"This was better than belonging to Turkey, but it was not enough. We wanted all the land that belonged to us and this we could not get. The island of Crete especially wanted to be Grecian but the Turks would not let it go.

"At last in 1897, came the war in Macedonia, in which our poor soldiers were shot down by the hundred and we had to turn our backs upon the foe. It was then that Spiro Rhizares fought and died, and many, many splendid fellows as brave as he. It was a terrible war, Little One. War is easy when a man marches toward the foe. He is never tired or hungry or footsore. But when he is ordered back and must march away, his knapsack grows heavier at each step; he is hungry and cold and weary, and his heart is within him like lead. Our men could have fought like heroes and Macedonia would now be ours; but the orders came always, 'Retreat! Back to Velestino!' and what could they do?

"The Powers forbade the Turks to conquer further, or we might be slaves again. Never mind, the day will come when every Grecian shall arm himself, and the detestable Turks shall be swept from our borders and all Greece shall once more be free!"

Marco's eye kindled and his face flushed.

"Thank you so much for telling me about it, Marco, I hope you'll never have to go to fight, but I wish Greece could have all the land that belongs to her. I am afraid I must go now. Aunt Anna will be displeased if I am late. It is growing dark. Are you not afraid all alone here in the mountains?"

"Afraid of what, Little One?" asked Marco, his hand on the hunting-knife which he carried in the soft sash at his waist. "You see I am not alone, I have a good friend here."

"Yes, but you might see a bear or a brigand!" she said. "Oh, Marco, what is that?" A tall figure appeared as she spoke from out of the rocks above them. "It is a brigand I am sure!" she whispered and clung close to her cousin.

"Nonsense," he answered. "Nobody ever sees brigands now, Zoe," but as he spoke he tightened his grasp on his dagger and put his arm around his cousin, for every Grecian knows there are brigands in the mountains of Thessaly, though they are much less frequently seen than they used to be.

Zoe gave a frightened gasp, "It is, I know it is! Pana yea,[12] save me!" she said as the stranger approached, but Marco said pleasantly,