A RAID AND A RAIDER.

It was between eight and nine o'clock when the first of the enemy
appeared on the road, in the persons of two smart fellows in gleaming
kilts and braided jackets. It was no more than just dusk, and I saw that
they were strangers to me. One was tall and broad, the other shorter,
and of very slight build. They came on towards us confidently enough. I
was looking over Denny's shoulder; he held Constantine's rifle, and I
knew that he was impatient to try it. But inasmuch as might was
certainly not on our side, I was determined that right should abide with
us, and was resolute not to begin hostilities. Constantine had at least
one powerful motive for wishing our destruction; I would not furnish him
with any plausible excuse for indulging his desire. So we stood, Denny
and I at one window, Hogvardt and Watkins at the other, and watched the
approaching figures. No more appeared; the main body did not show
itself, and the sound of the fierce chant had suddenly died away. But
all at once a third man appeared, running rapidly after the first two.
He caught the shorter by the arm, and seemed to argue or expostulate
with him. For a while the three stood thus talking; then I saw the last
comer make a gesture of protest, and they all came on together.

"Push the barrel of that rifle a little farther out," said I to Denny,
"It may be useful to them to know it's there."

Denny obeyed. The result was a sudden pause in our friends' advance; but
they were near enough now for me to distinguish the last comer, and I
discerned in him, although he wore the native costume, and had discarded
his tweed suit, Constantine Stefanopoulos himself.

"Here's an exercise of self-control," I groaned, laying a detaining hand
on Denny's shoulder.

As I spoke, Constantine put a whistle to his lips and blew loudly. The
blast was followed by the appearance of five more fellows. In three of
them I recognized old acquaintances--Vlacho, Demetri, and Spiro. These
three all carried guns; and the whole eight came forward again, till
they were within a hundred yards of us. There they halted, and, with a
sudden, swift movement, three barrels were levelled at the window where
Denny and I were looking out. Well, we ducked. There is no use in
denying it. For we thought that the fusillade had really begun. Yet no
shot followed, and, after an instant, holding Denny down, I peered out
cautiously myself. The three stood motionless, their aim fu