delivered an answer all ready-made. With many professions of desire to obey the command of the Pasha, he said that in this instance it was impossible to put his orders in execution, because the man in question, not being at Patmos, could not possibly be sent, as the Pasha requested, to Rhodes. All this was so plausibly and logically worded that I was taken quite aback, and said, "There is the Pasha's letter, answer it as you think proper; he has been informed, and I have been informed, that the man is here; you say he is not. We shall know how to deal with you if you are deceiving us." The Greeks, not the least disconcerted, began to overpower me with civilities. On my proposing to go up to the town to see the monastery, they forthwith offered mules, and invited me to dine with them. Knowing what all this meant, I broke away very unceremoniously from their escort, and managed to get up the steep ascent to the town about five minutes before them. In a case of this kind, the people who wish to mislead you never lose sight of you for a second during the day, for fear anybody else should get the opportunity of putting in an observation. My manœvre of walking up the hill alone enabled the Mudir to get hold of Biliotti for a moment, when he whispered to him in Turkish, "The man is here, but I did not dare say so before the Demarchia."
When I got up to the town, I called on the Archbishop of Rhodes, who is now staying at Patmos, and found him in a curious old room, where were two or three faded pictures in the school of Cana-
