heavily handicapped by youthful cocksureness and want of ballast.

They discussed many things in that dingy bedroom. Lance's past; Uncle Jimmy's little allowance, mortgaged many years in advance; the creditors to whom, together with the law of the land, he was indebted for the presence beneath his roof of the versatile Mr Mould; his future; the journalistic work which was promised him as soon as he should be fit again; Mrs Lance; and also Mr Hali

burton.

а

Joan's name was barely mentioned. Lance exhibited newborn delicacy in the matter. His officious solicitude on his sister's behalf was dead; he knew now that no woman need ever regret having trusted Hugh Marrable; and he was content to leave it at that.

"Well, I must be moving," said Hughie at last. "Buck up, and get fit! It's good to hear that there's work waiting for you when you get about again. Grand tonic, that! So long!"

He shook Lance's hand, and the two parted undemonstratively. Lance made no set speech: he appreciated Hughie's desire that there should be no returning of thanks or contrite expressions of gratitude. he said was—

All

"Hughie, you are a sportsman!"

Then he settled down on his pillow with a happy sigh. He

had paid Hughie the highest compliment it was in his power to bestow-and that costs an Englishman an effort.

So they parted. But Mrs Lance did not let Hughie off so easily. As she accompanied him downstairs to open the door for him, she suddenly seized his hand and kissed it. Tears were running down her cheeks.

Hughie grew red.

"I say, Mrs Lance," he said in clumsy expostulation, "it's all right, you know! He'll soon be quite well again."

Let me cry,' ," said said Mrs Lance comfortably. "It does me good."

They stood together in the obscurity of the shabby little hall, and Hughie, surveying the flamboyant but homely figure before him, wondered what the future might hold in store for this little household. It all depended, of course, on

"Mrs Lance," he said suddenly, "tell me do you-love him?"

"I do!" replied Mrs Lance, in a voice which for the moment relegated her patchouli and dyed eyebrows to nothingness.

“And does he love you?" "He does-thank God!" "You are both all right, then," said Hughie, nodding a wise head. "Nothing matters much-except that!"

mer.

"That's true," said Mrs Gay"But I wonder how you knew!" she added curiously. "Good-bye!" said Hughie.

IF there is a place in the world where East and West do meet it is Canea. On one side of the quay the old Venetian fortress carries the flags of Europe, on the other the minaret of a mosque rises above the busy cafés. The street of the coppersmiths might be in the heart of Tangier, and many a red fez and black veil remain to show that Turk vanquished Venetian three centuries ago upon the walls of Candia.

It was at six o'clock in the morning on the 25th of March 1909 that we landed in this enchanting city, and it was as we were rowed over the green waters of the harbour that we made the acquaintance of the first of the many friends whom we left behind us in Crete three weeks later. The great lesson to be learned in that light-hearted land is that it is the unexpected which happens, and before many days had passed it seemed natural to look for friends in every village, every inn, and every gendarmerie post upon the way, and not seldom to find them; but even on this, the morning of our arrival, we began to realise a little of the greatness of Monsieur Gallance. He met us upon the ship and took charge of us at once and for ever. He told us that he came from the hotel of which madame his mother was the VOL. CLXXXVI.-NO. MCXXVIII.

proprietress; he pointed out to us the windows and balconies overlooking the harbour and quay which were destined for us; he mentioned as a huge jest that he had not been to bed all night lest our ship should come in and find him unprepared, and within five minutes he had won all our hearts; but it was at the actual moment of landing that we had a taste of his real quality. "Are the customs very strict here?" we asked, seeing a row of officials watching the approach of our rowboat. 66 Extremely," said Monsieur Gallance, "but do not derange yourselves, for your boxes will not be opened. Say nothing, and I will arrange it." Accordingly we landed, and walked along the quayside, objects of extreme interest to the bystanders, but unquestioned by the douaniers. Presently Monsieur Gallance rejoined us. "Your luggage is passed," said he. "How did you do it?" we asked. "I said," replied he mysteriously, that you were British officers. That suffices. They believed me, and the baggage of officers is not opened."

These were the circumstances under which we first set foot in Canea, and in reflecting upon them one could not but feel that it is not only the Cretans who are sometimes liars ! Indeed, there never 2 N

in the world. Though he spoils his fruit in the gathering and his wine in the making, the riches of his land are as evident as they were in Lithgow's day. But swords must be beaten into ploughshares and spears into pruning-hooks before Crete indeed becomes the "Garden of the Universe," for hitherto revolutions have always seemed more attractive than agriculture to its inhabitants. On the spurs of the low hills which enclose this very valley the signs of devastation appear in the ruined houses of a group of Turkish villages, which have never been rebuilt since the fighting in 1898.

Through the plain the road passes, and then rises to the red cliffs which border Suda Bay. Looking up and down over its calm waters it is not difficult to understand the importance of its splendid natural harbour-finest anchorage of all the Eastern Mediterranean -broad and deep enough to allow the navy of a great nation to lie within its shelter. The road climbed high above it, and the horses stopped to rest.

it is not much more than ten years since the gendarmes came into being. Cretans themselves, they fulfil many of the functions performed by the Irish Constabulary nearer home, and it seems that they are hardly less efficient. It was a very short time after passing the place of Monsieur Gallance's disaster that we made our first acquaintance with one of them.

He was our appointed escort, and joined us at the village of Kaleyvis, where we left the carriage and had our midday meal. A table was prepared for us by the side of a stream which ran through the village square, and upon the opposite bank he appeared, a martial form in tight blue uniform, with fiercely curling moustaches. We exchanged salutes, and presently there came across to us a little boy with a bunch of iris in his hands.

"For madame, from the gendarme," explained Monsieur Gallance. Such was the ingratiating fashion of our introduction.

That meal would have been an embarrassing one judged by Anglo-Saxon standards. Our table by the running water, under the shade of a great walnut-tree, was in the midst of the cluster of white hovels which which calls itself Kaleyvis. Every doorway was crowded, and those householders whose dwellings were not conveniently situated for seeing the show took up positions behind our seats. The bridge over the brook accommodated the younger generation, and a row of little brown legs swung to and