,
however. In due course he looked in my direction, looked again with
attention, and I saw recognition come into his unprepossessing features.
He rose up, gathered together his writing materials, and came over to my
table. We shook hands. I invited him to have a drink, which he accepted
with alacrity. He still had the air of a dirty virtuoso. He was good
enough to say he remembered me perfectly in Ipsilon, of the _Manola_,
ah, yes. Well, he was doing extremely well, having taken up
international journalism. Was employed on the _Phos_, of which I might
have heard. He didn't look as though international journalism had done
much for him. His long French boots were burst at the sides and his
linen was far from fresh. To my enquiry as to the prosperity of the
great enterprise he raised his eyebrows and shoulders and exhibited a
pair of unwashed palms, his forearms resting on the marble table. In
time, in time, they would achieve success. But the conditions were
highly unfavourable to financial operations. There was great political
unrest. Revolution was in the air. Eventually Liberty would be
triumphant, which was glorious, but in the meanwhile, finance
languished. At present even a very sound scheme for building a dock was
hung up for lack of adequate support from responsible capitalists.

"'And Captain Macedoine--is he still in business?' I asked, casually. He
opened his eyes and drew down the corners of his lips. Very sad.
Confined to his apartment. He, M. Nikitos, the only friend faithful to
him. Deserted by his daughter even. But still planning for the
development of Macedonia. Colossal brain still working. Adverse
circumstances, aided by Gruenbaum's company, preventing success.

"This was surprising. Deserted by his daughter? I suggested to M.
Nikitos that he must be under a misapprehension. He looked at me
gloomily and shook his head. She had gone off, deluding her father with
a story of marriage. He himself knew how much there was in that.
Certainly she had got money from someone--but whom? Sooner or later he
would discover. He had his own interest in that affair. After he had
done everything for them when they first came to Saloniki, to show him
the door.... When he did discover her and her lover, we would see.
Straitened circumstances had prevented him from doing anything so far.
But wait.

"'Why, what would you do?' I asked, idly. The notion of this penurious
little humbug getting in the way of a serene and pow