“It’s not,” she cried, with a stamp of her foot.  And without more she walked straight by me and disappeared over the ledge of rock.  Two minutes later I saw her figure defined against the sky, a black shadow on the deep gray ground.  Then she disappeared.  I set my face straight for the cottage under the summit of the hill.  I knew that I had only to go straight, and I must come to the little plateau, scooped out of the hillside, on which the cottage stood.  I found not a path, but a sort of rough track that led in the desired direction, and along this I made my way very cautiously.  At one point it was joined at right angles by another track, from the side of the hill where the main road across the island lay.  This, of course, afforded an approach to the cottage without passing by my house.  In twenty minutes the cottage loomed, a blurred mass, before me.  I fell on my knees and peered at it.

There was a light in one of the windows; I crawled nearer.  Now I was on the plateau; a moment later I was under the wooden veranda and beneath the window where the light glowed.  My hand was on my revolver.  If Constantine or Vlacho caught me here, neither side would be able to stand on trifles; even my desire for legality would fail under the strain.  But for the minute everything was quiet, and I began to fear that I should have to return empty-handed; for it would be growing light in another hour or so, and I must be gone before the day began to appear.  Ah!  There was a sound—­a sound that appealed to me after my climb—­the sound of wine poured into a glass; and then came a voice I knew.

“Probably they have caught her,” said Vlacho the innkeeper.  “What of that?  They will not hurt her.  And she’ll be kept safe.”

“You mean she can’t come spying about here?”

“Exactly.  And that, my lord, is an advantage.  If she came here—­”

“Oh the deuce!” laughed Constantine.  “But won’t the men want me to free her by letting that infernal crew go?”

“Not if they think Wheatley will go to Rhodes and get soldiers and return.  They love the island more than her.  It will all go well, my lord.  And this other here?”

I strained my ears to listen.  No answer came; yet Vlacho went on as though he had received an answer.

“These cursed fellows make that difficult, too,” he said.  “It would be an epidemic.”  Then he laughed, seeming to see wit in his own remark.

“Curse them, yes.  We must move cautiously,” said Constantine.  “What a nuisance women are, Vlacho.”

“Ay, too many of them,” laughed Vlacho.

“I had to swear my life out that no one was here—­and then, ’If no one’s there, why mayn’t I come?’ You know the sort of thing.”

“Indeed, no, my lord.  You wrong me,” protested Vlacho, humorously; and Constantine joined in his laugh.

“You’ve made up your mind which, I gather?” asked Vlacho.

“Oh, this one, beyond doubt,” answered his master.