Luckily, Maurice, by his prompt action, had gained a good start, and was already outside the breakwater, making for the western side of the island, where he hoped to re-enter through the western pass. He could see Alcibiades and Caliphronas gesticulating fiercely on the beach and urging their companions to follow, so, just as the fugitives came in sight of the wreck of The Eunice, their enemies started in pursuit. “Thank God for that earthquake!” said Maurice thankfully, taking off his cap. “It saved our lives.” “Don’t holler till you’re out of the wood, sir,” said Gurt dryly, pointing to the sea. “I’ve seed that sort o’ thing at Thera, and it ain’t no child’s play.” The waters around them were boiling like a furnace, and had changed from their normal blue tint to the color of milk. Maurice, in astonishment, dipped his hand over the side of the boat into this opalescent sea, but withdrew it immediately with a cry of pain. The water was boiling hot! “Bless you, sir, there’s lots of that sort of thing about here.” said Gurt in a philosophical tone. “I’ve seed it a-bilin’ round Santorin like a kittle. These Greeks don’t mind it much.” “Don’t they?” replied Maurice in a disbelieving tone. “Well, Alcibiades and his lot seemed pretty sick.” “While it lasts they’re frightened enough, but they soon get over it, sir. Look at ’em follering.” By this time they were rounding the angle of Melnos, and the breakwater of the western harbor was in sight; but the boat containing Alcibiades, manned by able rowers, was gradually gaining on them. Two of the Melnosians, though they tugged away pluckily, were yet in great pain from wounds, while Gurt, feeble from loss of blood, could hardly rise to his feet. “Give way, men!” cried Maurice in Greek, as he examined his revolver. “I’ve got two shots left, Gurt, so, if that boat comes too near, I’ll try to pick off one of the rowers.” “We’re not far from home now, sir,” said Gurt hopefully; “and Mr. Crispin will be at the gate.” “I hope he will, Gurt; but this earthquake must have demoralized everything, and perhaps Mr. Crispin went back to see Justinian.” “Not he, sir; he’d send Temistocles. But Mr. Justinian must think us dead.” “It’s not improbable. However, we will soon show him we’re alive, though the tunnel is closed up forever.” “Good job too, sir,” replied Gurt cheerfully; “there’s no getting in that way now; so if these villains want to take Melnos, they’ll only have the western pass to enter by. I guess that there rock, sir, killed a few.” “What with the battle and the earthquake, they must have lost at least a hundred men, while our deaths are comparatively small.” “We’ve got nigh on a hundred left, I think, sir; but if it weren’t fur you, sir, gittin’ that idear of the boat, we’d be all dead men, for sure.”