mselves as
much as possible, and nearly every one seemed supremely happy.

Occasionally there was a fight, and knives were used with unerring
skill; but the mounted police who patrolled the streets, though
overtaxed, managed to preserve a certain amount of order.

Gregorio took very little notice of the scenes through which he passed.
He knew every inch and corner of the quarter that had been his home for
years, and was familiar with most of its inhabitants. He sighed a little
as he thought of the money being lost and won in the stuffy ill-lighted
rooms at the back of the houses, shut out from view of the authorities.
Like most of his race, he was fond of the excitement of gambling. But
of what use were regrets and sighs? he had no money, and must needs go
home. It was vain to try and borrow or to ask credit for his losses; in
these gambling hells what is lost must be immediately paid, for tempers
are inflamed by drink and knives are worn at each player's belt.

But he sighed, none the less, at the hard necessity that compelled him
to pass down the street without once entering the doors of a tavern. It
was very hot, and he had smoked many cigarettes. He would have been glad
to call for a drink. The tavern-keepers, though they were his friends,
expected to be paid. One or two women beckoned to him, who would have
willingly offered him wine, but he was proud enough to ignore them.

He became more moody and dejected as he went along, silent and sober
amid so much revelry. When he reached his house he saw a drunken man
lying on the threshold asleep. He stooped to look into his face and
recognised an Englishman, the foreman of some tramp in the harbour. He
kicked the recumbent form testily as he strode over it.

"These English, what beasts they are!" he growled, "and I--I have not a
piastre for a single glass of wine."

II--CONCERNING A DEBT

Gregorio found, on entering his house, that his wife was already in bed.
He went into the tiny kitchen and saw a plate of macaroni ready for
his supper. He tried to eat some, but it stuck in his throat. He took a
bottle of cheap Cretan wine from a shelf and drank from it; but the wine
was sour, and he spat it from his mouth with a curse.

Taking up the lamp, he went into the bedroom. His wife was fast
asleep with the boy in her arms. For a moment a smile flickered round
Gregorio's mouth as he looked at them. Then he took off his boots and
his coat, blew out the lamp, and l