She went slowly to the window and opened it, but leaning out she saw only what she knew already. Her cabin, situated next to the captain's own, was high above the level of the water. Perhaps, in her disappointment, she might even then have made up her mind to the hazardous dive, in a faint hope of escaping from her captors and the fate that lay ahead; but even that desperate course was denied her. All round the stern of the ship as she lay at anchor was clustered a mosaic of little boats, rowing boats, caiques and peramas, thronging round her, as they were round any other ship of any size, like so many baby chicks around their mother hens. More boats were plying back and forth across the water, ferrying passengers and goods from one shore to the other. To jump would have been tantamount to breaking her neck.

Marianne wandered miserably back to her cot and sank down on to it. It was not until then that she noticed they had removed the sheets. Apparently Sir James was determined to take no chances.

That reminded her of Theodoros, and she reflected rather bitterly that he must be a long way off by this time. He had been just in time to benefit from the captain's weakness for the little Marianne he remembered. No one would come and loose her bonds to let her escape.

The Greek had achieved his object. All that she had left was the faint, private satisfaction of having kept the oath that she had sworn on Santorini. In that respect, at least, she was free, if in no other.

The hottest hours of the day slipped by, one by one, each more oppressive than the last, and swifter. There was so little time left for her in Constantinople! And the nearness of the Sea Witch made the inevitable prospect of departure more desperate than ever.

Very soon now, with the coming of the new day, the British ship would hoist sail and carry off the Princess Sant'Anna to a dismal future, to be swallowed up in the fogs of England, without even the relieving spice of danger. They would simply put her away somewhere and that would be that. Unless Napoleon remembered her, she would probably be forgotten by all the world.

At sunset came the wailing cries of the muezzins, calling the faithful to prayer. Then darkness came and the tumultuous life of the harbour slackened and died, while the riding lights of the different vessels shone out one by one. With the darkness came a cold wind from the north, which blew into the cabin. Marianne shivered but she could not bring herself to close the window, because by leaning out a little she could still just manage to make out the bowsprit of Jason's ship.

A seaman came in bringing a lighted candle and was followed by another with a tray. These they set down without a word. Probably they were under orders. Their faces were so devoid of all expression as to have become curiously alike. Marianne said nothing, either by word or look, and they went away.

She cast her eye over the tray without interest. That they gave her food and light meant nothing to her. A prison is still a prison, however many comforts it contains.

Nevertheless, she realized that she was very thirsty and, pouring herself a cup of tea, she drank it and was in the act of pouring out a second when she heard a heavy thud which made her start and turn her head. There was something on the floor.

Bending, she saw that it was a jagged stone with a thin black thread tied tightly round it. The other end of the thread disappeared through the window.

She tugged it gently, her heart beating fast, and then more strongly. The thread yielded. More of it appeared and was followed by a stout rope knotted on to it. Realizing suddenly what it meant, Marianne hugged the hempen cord to her in a wild access of almost hysterical joy, pressing it to her lips and kissing it as if it were an angel of deliverance. She still had one friend at least!

Hastily snuffing out the candles, she went to the window and leaned out. Down below, in the dense shade of the waterfront, it seemed to her that she could distinguish a human form, but she wasted no time on idle speculation. If she wanted to escape, there was no time to waste. She tiptoed to the door and laid her ear against it. There was not a sound to be heard from the ship, except for the faint creaking of her timbers as she rode at anchor. Even the sentries outside her door were silent.

Moving as silently as she could herself, Marianne fastened the rope's end securely to the leg of her bed. Then she hoisted herself through the window, an operation of some delicacy since it was not very large, and immediately felt the rope held taut by some invisible hand. Slowly, she began the descent, taking care not to look down at the gaping blackness beneath and groping for toe-holds on the vessel's side. Fortunately, none of the windows in the lower decks were open. All the officers except those of the watch must be ashore, enjoying their one night of leave.

The descent was one interminable horror. The rope soon burned her hands raw. Then, at last, she felt arms round her, holding her.

'Let go of the rope,' said Theodoros' voice. 'You've arrived.'

She obeyed and dropped into the bottom of the small boat where he had been waiting for her, and groped in the darkness for his hand. She saw his giant shape loom over her and, at the knowledge that she was free, miraculously, from her floating prison, she was suddenly overflowing with speechless gratitude, struggling at the same time to get her breath and to find the words to tell him what she felt.

'I thought you were far away,' she whispered, 'and now you are here. You came to save me! Oh, thank you… thank you… But how did you guess? How did you know?'

'I didn't guess. I saw. I'd just left the boat when the tall, fair Englishman arrived, and I hid on a lighter close by, among a load of timber, to see what I should do. I had a view of what was happening on deck there and when the soldiers took you away, I knew something was wrong. Have they found out who you are?'

'Yes. Cockerell and Foster went to complain and they gave a description of me.'

'I ought to have killed him,' Theodoros muttered, listen, we can't stay here. We've got to get away, fast.'

He unshipped the oars and, softly fending off the perama, began rowing for open water.

'I'm going to row us round Galata point and land by the mosque of Kilij Ali. It's a quiet spot, and not far from the French embassy.'

He was bending vigorously to the oars when Marianne laid a hand on his arm. Not far away, the dark outline of the brig rose out of the black waters. There was only one riding light and from the forecastle a faint, fugitive gleam, but that was all.

'That's where I want to go,' Marianne said.

'There? To that ship? Are you mad? Why there?'

'Because it belongs to a friend – a very dear friend whom I had thought lost. It's the same one on board which the mutiny nearly cost me my life. But I must go.'

'And how do you know it's not still in the hands of the mutineers? Do you really want to reach this city, or only to add to your troubles? Haven't you had enough danger?'

'If it were still in their hands, then it would not be here. The man who stole it didn't want to come to Constantinople. Oh, please, Theodoros! Take me to that ship! It matters dreadfully to me! It's the thing that matters most in all the world because I thought that I should never see him again.'

She was strung taut, like a bowstring, striving with all her might to persuade him. Finally, in a low, breathless voice, as though she were ashamed after all that he had done, she said:

'If you won't take me, I'll go all the same. I'll swim. It's not very far.'

There was silence while the Greek sat with bowed head, thinking, and the little boat drifted gently with no pull at the oars. After a moment he said:

'Is he – the man you call Jason?'

'Yes.'

'Very well. If that is so, then I will take you, and God help us!'

He resumed his work at the oars and the perama began to slide again, silkily, through the water. Very soon, they were in the shadow of the Witch and her steep sides loomed above them. Here, too, there was no sound. Theodoros shipped the oars, frowning.

'It's as if there's no one aboard.'

'There must be! Jason would never leave his ship at night in a strange port. She isn't even berthed… And listen! I think I can hear voices.'

There was, in fact, a murmur of voices from the bows. Forgetting everything in her impatience, Marianne stood up and began groping with her hands along the side of the ship, looking for something to climb.

'Sit still!' the Greek grunted. Like a cat, he seemed as well able to see as in broad daylight. 'There's a companion ladder farther on… You'll have us over!'

He edged the perama gently along the hull, but when Marianne tried to catch hold of the ladder, he stopped her.

'Stay where you are. I don't like the look of this. There's something odd about it and I didn't get you away from the English just to let you walk into another trap. You wait here. I'm going up.'

'No! I can't!' Marianne broke out wildly, no longer able to contain her impatience. 'I've waited days and days for this moment when I could set foot on that ship again, and now you want me to stay here in the boat and wait? Wait for what? Everything I want is there, a few feet away! You must see I can't bear it any longer!'

Seeing that no power on earth could restrain her, Theodoros gave in with a bad grace.

'All right, come on then, but try not to make a noise. I may be wrong, but I think they're speaking Turkish.'