"It is I, Mitsos," said the boy, "and I want to see you at once, Uncle Nicholas."
"Wait a minute, then," and from within came the sounds of the striking of a flint.
"I can't light this," said Nicholas; "come in, though."
Mitsos entered, feeling glad there was no light, for it made his story easier to tell.
"There is a powder-box where you can sit, little Mitsos," said Nicholas, "or sit on the end of the bed. Now, what brings you here?"
Mitsos felt in his pocket and found the paper.
"This, which I am holding out to you," he said. "On it is written that Poniropoulos, for the sum of two hundred pounds, will insure safety to Abdul Achmet and his house when Tripoli falls."
There was a moment's silence.
"The black devil!" said Nicholas. Then suddenly, "How came you by this, Mitsos?"
"That is what I am going to tell you."