But Curtis put his hand gently over her mouth, whispering:
"Hush! Perhaps it is a ruse."
The moon had not yet arisen, and the darkness was like ink. Some one stumbled, and a musket fell "ching!" among the rocks.
"Take care!" said an imperious voice in Greek.
"That's Kyrios Lindbohm," whispered Panayota. "I know his voice."
"Lindbohm don't know any Greek," replied her companion.
"He could not be in Crete one day without learning the word for 'take care!' I tell you it's Lindbohm. Who that has ever heard that voice could forget it? I should know it," murmured the girl, "if I heard it in my grave."
Curtis was too excited to take note of the singular remark.
The men were now passing them quite close and several of them were conversing in low tones. The girl leaned forward, listening. Then suddenly she called in a loud voice:
"Patriotai, where are you?"