condescension, "but I believe you will find mine better."
From his pocket he drew his own case, and passed it to my brother.
"Excellent!" exclaimed Mano. "I know the brand."
"They were a present from his Holiness, the Bishop of Xanthy."
"Do you still give the church five per cent. of your—your revenues?" my brother inquired. "I heard his Holiness mention this devotion of yours to the church."
Our host laughed pleasantly. "So his Holiness said that, did he?"
Two men came into the room carrying a lamb made ready for roasting. They held it while a third impaled it on a long iron bar. Then the bar was laid across two iron projections, over the bed of embers, and a handle was fitted to the end of the bar. One of the brigands squatted down and began slowly turning the spit, and the others shovelled more embers into the cavity underneath the lamb. We could feel the heat even where we sat.
We all watched with interest the man rhythmically turning the lamb over the fire. Gradually he began to hum a song in time to his turning. It was one of the folk songs about the Armateloi and Kleftai, those patriotic bandits who waged a guerrilla warfare against the Turks for years
