flashed round the galley, with the black behind it a close second.

"Is that the hamari's boat next the leader?"

Thus the Princess, and upon the answer, she added: "It looks as if the
Holy One might find servants among the irreclaimables in the valley."

Had the Gypsies at last a partisan?

The two rivals were now clear of the galley. For a time there was but
one cry heard--"Stenia! Stenia!" The five oarsmen of that charming town
had been carefully selected; they were vigorous, skilful, and had a
chief well-balanced in judgment. The race seemed theirs. Suddenly--it
was when the homestretch was about half covered--the black flag rushed
past them.

Then the life went out of the multitude. "St. Peter is dead!" they
cried--"St. Peter is dead! It is nothing to be a Greek now!" and they
hung their heads, refusing to be comforted.

The Gypsies came in first; and amidst the profoundest silence, they
dropped their oars with a triumphant crash on the marble revetment. The
hamari wiped the sweat from his face, and put on his jacket and sandals;
pausing then to toss his purse to the foreman, and say: "Take it in
welcome, my friends. I am content with my share of the victory," he
stepped ashore. In front of the judge's stand, he knelt, and said:
"Should there be a dispute touching the prize, O Princess, be a witness
unto thyself. Thine eyes have seen the going and the coming; and if the
world belie thee not--sometimes it can be too friendly--thou art fair,
just and fearless."