She never gave a thought to personal danger, and though a fragile creature, not five feet high, she was capable of cowing the most brutal of the barbarians who were gathered around us at Khalepa, and, whether to keep the consulate for me while I was away, or to navigate the yacht to meet me on my return from my visits to Greece, nothing made her hesitate to do what she thought her duty.

In the three years of almost breaking strain of our residence in the midst of the anarchy of the insurrection, she had only the few days' relief from anxiety of her stay in Syra, while waiting the arrival of the Kestrel, but in all that time I never saw her make the least display of trepidation or anxiety, until the dispatch came from Secretary Washburn to tell us that the salary would be stopped.
I was asked then, as the reader may ask now, why I did not take her away when I found that she was failing.

I had not the means to pay my passage to any other country.

I was myself nearly prostrated mentally and physically, and unfit for anything but my photography.

I was in debt so deeply that I could not honestly borrow, and my brother was dead.