The little shop was closed. The fruit-trays had been carried in and the shutters¹ put up, and from an upper window a line of light gleamed on the deserted² street. Achilles glanced at it and turned into an alley³ at the side, groping his way toward the rear. He stopped and fumbled⁴ for a knob and rapped sharply. But a hand was already on the door, scrambling⁵ to undo⁶ it, and an eager face confronted him, flashing white teeth at him. “You come!” said the boy swiftly.  
He turned and fled up the stairs and Achilles followed. A faint sense of onions was in the air. Achilles sniffed⁷ it gratefully. He remembered suddenly that he had not eaten since morning. But the boy did not pause for him—he was beckoning⁸ with mysterious hand from a doorway⁹ and Achilles followed. “Alcie—got hurt,” whispered the boy. He was trembling with fear and excitement, and he pointed¹⁰ to the bed across the room.
 
Achilles stepped, with lightest tread, and looked down. A boy, half asleep, murmured and turned his head restlessly. A red-clotted¹¹ blur¹² ran along the forehead, and the face, streaked¹³ with mud, was drawn¹⁴ in a look of pain. As Achilles bent¹⁵ over him, the boy cried out and threw up a hand; then he turned his head, muttering, and dozed¹⁶ again.
 
Achilles withdrew lightly, beckoning to the boy beside him.
 
Yaxis followed, his eyes on the figure on the bed. “All day,” he said, “he lie sick.”
 
Achilles closed the door softly and turned to him. “Tell me, Yaxis, what happened,” he said.
 
The boy’s face opened dramatically. “I look up—I see Alcie—like that—” his gesture fitted to the room—“He stand in door—all covered mud—blood run—cart broke—no fruit—no hat.” The boy’s hands were everywhere, as he spoke¹⁷, dispensing¹⁸ fruit, smashing carts and filling up the broken words with horror and a flow of blood. Achilles’s face grew grave. The Greeks were not without persecution¹⁹ in the land of freedom, and his boy had lain all day suffering—while he had been lost in the great house by the lake.
 
He took off his coat and turned back his sleeves. “You bring water,” he said gently. “We will see what hurts him.”
 
But the boy had put his supper on t............