h the Rue des Soeurs, not
daring to look up at the house wherein he dwelt. The muffled sounds
of voices and guitars from the far-away interiors seemed to mock his
footsteps as he passed the wine-shops; and all the other houses were
silent and asleep. At last he arrived on the quay, and the black lines
of the P. and O. stood out firmly before him against the pitiless blue
of sea and sky. He wandered over the hot stone causeway, but found no
one. The revenue officers were away, and not a labourer, not a sailor,
was visible. Beyond the breakwater little tufts of silvery foam flashed
on the rollers, and a solitary steamer steered steadily for the horizon.
He could see the Greek flag at her stern, and his eyes filled with
tears. Ah, how little his friends in Athens thought of the man who had
come to find fame and fortune in the far-off East! He sat down on the
parapet and watched the vessel until she became a tiny speck on the
horizon, and then he recommenced his search for work. His heart was
braver for a moment because of its pangs; he swore he would show these
countrymen of his who dwelt at home, and who in three days would see the
very ship he had been gazing at arrive in Grecian waters, that he was
worthy of his country and his kinsfolk.

But resolutions were useless, tenacity of purpose was useless. For two
long hours he wandered by the harbour, but met no one.

At last the sun fell behind the western waves, and the windows of the
khedive's palace glowed like a hundred flaming eyes; the flags fell from
the masts of the vessels; on the city side was a sudden silence, save
for the melancholy voices of the muezzins; then the day died; the bright
stars, suddenly piercing the heavens, mocked him with their brilliance
and told him that his useless search for bread was over.

Gregorio went back slowly to his home. Already the Rue des Soeurs was
crowded. The long street rang with music and laughter, and instead
of blinds covering the windows merry women leaned upon the sills and
laughed at the crowds below.

Gregorio, when he reached his house, would have liked to go straight to
bed. But it was not to be, for as he entered the tiny room he heard his
wife trying to persuade the hungry infant into sleep, and his footsteps
disturbed her tears. He had to calm them as best he could, and as he
soothed her he noticed the child had a crust in his hand which he gnawed
half contentedly. At the same moment the dim blue figure of an Ar