d quickly to
Hogvardt: "What's the game with those knives, Hog?"

"Well, my lord," said Hogvardt, surveying his dozen murderous
instruments, "I thought there was no harm in putting an edge on them, in
case we should find a use for them;" and he fell to grinding one with
great energy.

"I say, Charlie, I wonder what this yarn's about? I can't construe half
of it. It's in Greek, and it's something about Neopalia, and there's a
lot about a Stefanopoulos."

"Is there? Let's see;" and taking the book I sat down to look at it. It
was a slim old book, bound in calfskin. The Greek was written in an
antique style; it was verse. I turned to the title-page. "Hullo, this is
rather interesting," I exclaimed. "It's about the death of old
Stefanopoulos--the man they sing that song about, you know."

In fact, I had got hold of the poem which One-eyed Alexander composed.
Its length was about three hundred lines, exclusive of the refrain which
the islanders had chanted, and which was inserted six times, occurring
at the end of each fifty lines. The rest was written in rather barbarous
iambics; and the sentiments were quite as barbarous as the verse. It
told the whole story, and I ran rapidly over it, translating here and
there for the benefit of my companions. The arrival of the Baron
d'Ezonville recalled our own with curious exactness, except that he came
with one servant only. He had been taken to the inn, as I had, but he
had never escaped from there, and had been turned adrift the morning
after his arrival. I took more interest in Stefan, and followed eagerly
the story of how the islanders had come to his house, and demanded that
he should revoke the sale. Stefan, however, was obstinate; it lost the
lives of four of his assailants before his house was forced. Thus far I
read, and expected to find next an account of a _melee_ in the
hall. But here the story took a turn unexpected by me, one that might
make the reading of the old poem more than a mere pastime.

"But when they had broken in," said One-eyed Alexander, "behold, the
hall was empty and the house empty! And they stood amazed. But the two
cousins of the lord, who had been the hottest in seeking his death, put
all the rest to the door, and were themselves alone in the house; for
the secret was known to them who were of the blood of the Stefanopouloi.
Unto me, the bard, it is not known. Yet men say they went beneath the
earth, and there in the earth found the lord. And cer