CHAPTER I
MITSOS MEETS HIS COUSINS
Since August Nicholas had been travelling about the Peloponnesus,being received everywhere with a sober, secret welcome as one of theaccredited leaders of the revolution. The Turks, through whose Kismetthe truth of the ever-increasing rumors had begun to break, had longheld him in indolent suspicion, but had taken no steps to counteractthe report of his death, for they hoped--if Turks can be said tohope--somewhat ingeniously, but wholly mistakenly, that such news wouldprove to be a cooling draught to this ill-defined fever of revolution.The Greeks, however, as Germanos had said, knew "that Nicholas was notthe sort of man who died," and Turkish ingenuity went strangely wide ofits aim. In fact, it enabled Nicholas to move about more freely, and totake a liberal advantage of the fact that he was supposed to be beyondthe reach of war and rumor of war. Indeed, in October, finding himselfback at Corinth, where he had business with one of his fellow-workers,he had filled an idle afternoon with carving a little wooden crosson which he painted his name, and below, with a two-handled meaning,the text, "The trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised." Hewas to leave Corinth that night, and after the dark had fallen he andhis host went to the Greek cemetery and planted this eloquent littlemonument over a newly made grave. When it was discovered it caused acertain amount of intelligent amusement among the Greeks; but the Turksseemed to miss the point of the joke. Not even they would have dared todisturb a Greek cemetery, for the dead had in their eyes a sacrednesswhich the living altogether lacked; and it remained there for a year,when subsequent events saw it planted over the most honored grave inGreece.
December and the first half of January Nicholas had spent in thecountry of his kin, south of Sparta, and it was from there he had fledin haste to Nauplia, for his presence in Maina, which was notablypatriotic, had become too insistent to be disregarded, and the Turkishgovernor of Tripoli, Mehemet Salik, had demanded of the Greek beyof that district, Petros Mavromichales, usually known as Petrobey,that he should be given up on the old charge of brigandage. Petrobey,like Germanos, was of high rank, and the Turks seemed to have had nosuspicion that he himself was a leader of the revolution; but, as amatter of fact, he and Nicholas, who was staying with him at the time,read the letter together and consulted what should be done.
Nicholas was disposed to shrug at it altogether, or merely to sendback an answer that he was officially declared to be dead andburied--witness the grave and its monument; but Petrobey thoughtotherwise. His own usefulness to the cause was immensely increased bythe fact that he at present stood outside suspicion, and he advisedNicholas to retire where they were not likely to look for him, while hehimself would prosecute a vigorous and indubitably unsuccessful searchelsewhere, as an evidence of his own unimpeachable fidelity. Had notNicholas got a brother-in-law--his own cousin--at Nauplia? Naupliawas an excellent hiding-place, for it was under the very nose of theTurkish governor, and people always looked everywhere else first. Butit would be necessary to have some extremely trustworthy person whocould communicate between them; and Nicholas had spoken to him of hisnephew. This nephew lived at Nauplia, did he not? How very convenient!Nicholas should go to Nauplia and send his nephew back to Maina, wherehe could be very useful.
With this, Petrobey wrote an exceedingly polite letter to MehemetSalik, saying that his house was Mehemet's house, and that he himselfwas honored by the commands of the deputy of the Shadow of God.Nicholas, it was true, as he had learned by inquiry, had been seenlately in Maina, or so gossip would have it; but as they had been toldthat he was dead not long ago at Corinth, there might be some confusionon this point. However, the bearers of the letter to the deputy of theSerene Presence would be his witnesses that he had sent out twenty mento scour the country-side, and no doubt the hound of hell, if stillalive, would be found. He should in this case be sent with spitting toTripoli.
Petrobey was the head of the numerous and powerful clan of theMavromichales, the thews and sinews of the revolution. He himself,though a Greek, was governor of the district of Maina, and had beenappointed to this post by the Sultan, for the attempt to put thegovernment of Maina, or rather of the Mavromichales, into the hands ofa Turkish official, had not proved a success, the last three Turkishgovernors not having been permitted by the clan to hold office for morethan a month. His brothers and cousins were mayors and land-ownersof the villages for miles around, and, like Nicholas's family, withwhom they were connected twenty times in marriage, it was theirpride that they had kept their blood clean and not mated with devils,and the wrong done to Nicholas's wife they took for a wrong done tothemselves, demanding, so they swore, "a red and hot apology." So when,in the presence of the five soldiers who had brought Mehemet's letter,Petrobey sent for his brother-in-law Demetri, and told him that thatbastard cousin of the clan, Nicholas Vidalis, was being sought for bythe deputy of the Shadow of God who cast his serene effulgence overTripoli, Demetri was suitably astounded, and the Turkish soldiers weremuch impressed. They had the further satisfaction an hour later ofseeing twenty mounted men set off southwards in search of Nicholas,following well-authenticated information; and later in the afternoonthey themselves took horse on their return journey to Tripoli, havingdrunk a little more than was good for them at Petrobey's expense, thebearers of that reply the sentiments and wording of which were anedification.
Nicholas and he supped together, and it was arranged that Nicholasshould start that night from Panitza, so as to reach Gythium beforemorning.
"I regret," said Petrobey, "my dear cousin, that I cannot speed you onyour way myself, and can send none of our clan with you; but perhapsit would be outstepping the bounds of prudence if I went myself, and,as you know, the Mavromichales of this immediate district have gone tolook for you southwards. They will no doubt be back from their questbefore midnight; but I should advise your setting out before then."
Nicholas laughed.
"I shall do very well, my cousin," he said. "I shall reach Nauplia intwo days or three, and send Mitsos back at once. He is absolutely andentirely trustworthy. I think I told you of the test."
"You did. He should be very useful to us; for it is time, I think, thatthe mills were set grinding, and a boy like that can go freely to andfro without suspicion. Your health, dear cousin; I will break my customand drink wine with you. I drink to you and to vengeance."
The men clinked glasses, emptied them, and filled them again.
"I do not easily forget," said Nicholas, "and the Turk shall not easilyforget me. The corn will grow high this summer, for the fields will berich. Your health, dear cousin, and the memory of one whom we forgetnot!"
They sat in silence for a space, for Petrobey knew that Nicholas spokeof his wife, and having finished their meal they drank their coffee,and Nicholas's horse was brought round. The two men walked to the endof the village together, the lad leading the horse behind, and therethey stopped a moment.
"I may not see you again," said Nicholas, "till the feast is ready.And on that day, my cousin, you and I will fall to with good appetite.I wish you a good appetite for that feast." And after the manner ofrelations and friends they kissed each other, and Nicholas mounted androde off.
Eight days after his departure Mitsos arrived, having passed withoutimpediment through Tripoli and Sparta. Following Nicholas's directions,he had kept his ears very wide open at Tripoli in his lodging ata Greek inn, and he had heard things which he thought might be ofinterest. First and foremost the letter which Petrobey had written tothe deputy of the Shadow of God had been received, and was supposedto have given satisfaction, for Mitsos had fallen in with one of theTurkish soldiers who had taken it, who reported that the matter was tobe left entirely in Petrobey's hands, which seemed a mark of confidencein his fidelity. Also, the meeting of primates and bishops at Tripoli,which usually took place at the beginning of April, was summoned forthe beginning of March. Lastly, Mehemet Salik was fortifying withfeverish haste the walls of the city.
Mitsos had spent the second night at Sparta; the
third at Marathonisi,a town on the coast; and the noon of the fourth day saw him climbingthe steep hill into Panitza. His horse was tired with the four days'journey, and a couple of miles below the village he got off and walkedbehind it, cracking his whip every now and then, partly to encourageit, and partly because he could crack a whip louder than mortalman. Petrobey, who was outside the big cafe at the entrance to thevillage, saw the tired horse and the extremely vigorous-looking younggiant walking by its side as they passed, and, after a few moments'inspection, said to a young man who was sitting with him:
"That is he, no doubt. Nicholas seems to have chosen well."
The two got up and followed the boy till he, seeing them, stopped andasked for Petros Mavromichales's house.
"And what do you want with Petrobey?" asked that gentleman.
Mitsos surveyed him with easy indifference, raising his eyebrowsslightly at the question.
"See, friend," he said, "I have my business, and you, for all I know,have yours. If you will tell me where is his house, good; if not, Iwill ask some one else."
"MITSOS SURVEYED HIM WITH EASY INDIFFERENCE"]
Petrobey laughed.
"You are Mitsos, no doubt," he said. "Welcome, cousin, for Nicholas'ssake and your own."
"I really am very sorry," said the boy; "but how should I know? I havecome from Nauplia. Uncle Nicholas arrived safely."
"That is good, and you have arrived safely, which is also good. This ismy son Yanni, Mitsos, and your cousin. Yanni, take your cousin's horseand then join us."
Mitsos hesitated a moment before giving the bridle to Yanni.
"Thank you very much," he said; "but I can put the horse up myself ifyou will show me where. My father told me always to put it up myself.They laughed at me at the inn at Tripoli for doing so."
"Indeed," said Petrobey, glancing at the boy's shoulders; "I wouldnever laugh at you, Mitsos. What did you do?"
"I knocked one of them down," said Mitsos, genially, "and thus therewas no more laughter."
"The horse will be all right here," said Petrobey, smiling. "Give Yannithe bridle, lad."
Mitsos obeyed, and they went into the house, where dinner was being gotready. Dinner was a daily crisis in the house of Petrobey, and, leavingthe two boys in the veranda, he went round to the kitchen for fear thatthe cook, who, he said, was a man to whom God had not granted a palate,should be too harsh on the sucking-pig which they were to eat.
"Can you conceive," he said, on his return, spreading out his handswith a gesture of eloquent despair, "the fool stuffed the last oneI ate with garlic! Sucking-pig stuffed with garlic! A man without apalate, little Mitsos!"
Yanni burst out laughing at this, and Petrobey turned to him withgood humor shining in his great rosy face, which he tried mostunsuccessfully to school into severity.
"Yanni, too," he went on, "that lumpy son of mine, does not know quailfrom woodcock, and lights his pipe before he has finished his wine.Come, boys, dinner first; we will talk afterwards. Bring the mastic,son of a locust," he bawled into the kitchen.
During dinner Petrobey hardly spoke, because speech spoils food. He atesparingly and slowly, dwelling on each mouthful as on a mathematicalproblem. His face grew anxious as the time for sucking-pig approached,and his deep-gray eyes bore an expression of profound thought ashe laid down his knife and fork, after putting the first piece ofcrackling into his mouth. Then his face cleared again, and he drank alittle water briskly, for, except rarely, he did not touch wine.
"Hardly crisp enough," he said, curling his long gray mustache up fromhis lips. "Hardly crisp enough, but creditable. What say you, Mitsos?"
The latter exhibited a phenomenal appetite after his journey fromMarathonisi, and Yanni looked on in admiration, which eventuallyexpressed itself Homerically:
"You are a good man," he said, "because you eat well."
After dinner they sat out in the sun under the shelter of the southernveranda, and here Mitsos learned what he had to do.
"Your uncle Nicholas," said Petrobey, "has told me that I can trust youcompletely; and I have many things to tell you, any of which, if youchose to give information to the Turk, would see me, and many othersbesides, strung to the gallows."
Yanni, who was lying on a straw mat near Mitsos, refilled his pipe andgrinned.
"Me among them, Mitsos," he said, glancing up at his big cousin. "Youwill please to remember that."
But Mitsos did not answer, and only looked gravely at Petrobey.
"We shall no longer be cursed by these devils," continued he, "forthe Turks will vanish out of our land like snow in summer. What youand Yanni have to do is to go through a certain district, calling atcertain villages, and speaking to certain men. This first journey, onwhich you will set out to-morrow, will take you a fortnight or so--ah,but the victuals will be poor, little ones, but perhaps you don't mindthat--and then you will come back here. And remember, Mitsos, thatyou will be doing what none of us could do; for two boys, dressed aspeasants dress, driving a couple of seedy mules laden with oranges,can pass where Nicholas and I could not. On this first journey Yanniwill go with you, for he knows the country, but after that there willprobably be other work for him to do, and also for you--plenty. Youwill go to the houses of these men and ask this question, 'Are yougrinding corn?' and they will answer, 'Corn for the hungry, or corn forthe Turk?' And you will say, 'Black corn for the Turk. If you have notbegun grinding, begin, and grind quickly.'"
Mitsos was listening breathlessly.
"What does it all mean?" he asked.
Petrobey smiled, and unslinging his powder-flask from his belt, shookout a little into his hand, and tossed it into the air.
"Pouf!" he said; "black corn for the Turk."
Mitsos' eyes flashed.
"I understand," he said; "black corn, and good for Turks."
"For the first journey that will be all," went on Petrobey. "Yanni willbe with you, and it will be simple enough. After that you may have togo here, there, anywhere. You will certainly have to go to Nauplia,where you will find Nicholas; and Yanni will, I am afraid, have to goto Tripoli for a little while."
"The black devil take Tripoli," muttered Yanni.
"And why does Yanni go to Tripoli?" asked Mitsos.
"Perhaps he will not, but if he goes it will be as a hostage for mygood conduct. But there is no need to be so round-eyed, Mitsos; weare not going to have him murdered. I shall not behave badly till heis safe again. Dear me, yes, I wish I could go instead. Mehemet Salikhas a cook of a thousand. But--who knows?--idle words may reach theTurks at Tripoli, and if so I shall send Yanni as a hostage. But aboutthis journey you must be as quick and quiet as you can. Never answerany questions about Nicholas or me or yourselves--you cannot be toocareful. Never sleep in a village when you have given a message. Sleepmostly by day out in the woods and travel at night, though you mustbe careful to arrive at the village where you give these messages byday in the manner of ordinary peasants. Finally, be ready to run, ifrunning is possible; if not, to fight. Which would you prefer?"
Mitsos kicked out a leg tentatively.
"I have no marked choice," he said; "perhaps I would rather fight."
"I hope no need will come. Try to avoid any suspicion. I don't thinkyou need provoke any. But if you do, remember that you must try to runaway first. The point is that you should do your business quietly."
Yanni turned round and looked at Mitsos.
"You would prefer fighting, would you not, cousin?" he said. "But Idon't see how there will be either fighting or running to do, father.We only go to friends, give our message, and pass on."
Petrobey got up.
"That is what I hope," he said, "but you cannot tell. Some of thosewhom we thought our friends may be treacherous. And now I have to seeDemetri, and you boys can stop here, or you can take Mitsos to see someof his cousins, Yanni. We will talk again this evening."
Petrobey whistled to the great sheep-dog, wolfish and savage, whogot up, and with all his hackles raised made
a second examination ofMitsos' legs, growling gently to himself. The boy sat quite still underthis somewhat trying inspection, and the dog after a few moments laidhis head on his knee and looked him in the face. Mitsos lifted his handvery gently and stroked the brute's ears, while Petrobey watched them.
"There, go along," said Mitsos, after a few moments, and the statelydog turned and walked across to Petrobey.
"That is curious," said the latter. "Osman is not usually friendly. Isuppose he saw you were not afraid of him."
Mitsos looked up smiling.
"I was horribly afraid," he said, "but I tried not to show it. Big dogsare fools; they never understand."
"You will find that men are even greater fools; they always mistakebluff for bravery," said Petrobey, walking off.
Yanni got up from where he was lying and sat himself in his father'schair. He was a big-made young Greek, rather above the average height,with a look of extreme fitness about him. His movements were all sharpand nimble, like the movements of some young animal, and he rolledhimself a compact and uniform plug of tobacco for his chibouk with afew passes of his quick fingers. His hands, like his father's, werelong and finely made, and Mitsos watched him admiringly nip off theloose ends of the tobacco.
"How quickly you did that," he said. "Will you fill my pipe, too? I amso glad we are going together, cousin."
"I, too. It is good to hunt in couples. It is a halving of the cold andthe tiredness, and a doubling of all that is pleasant. This is Turkishtobacco, Mitsos, and it is better than ours. Father never smokes. Sowhen a Turk sends him a present of tobacco it is good for me. Have youever smoked the Turkish?"
Mitsos started, and a flush spread under the brown of his cheek.
"Yes, the other day only. I found it very good. Tell me more of thejourney."
"Old clothes, even very old clothes," said Yanni, "like poor peasants,"and his Mavromichales's nose went in the air. "Old mules, and veryslow-going; but a pistol each, new pistols with two mouths that speaklike the lightning. Father gives us one each. On the mules a load ofstupid oranges and a couple of blankets each. Come to the other side ofthe house, cousin; we can see our first day's journey from there."
Panitza stood high on the scrub-covered slope leading up to the pineforests and the naked crags of Taygetus. Sixteen miles to the northrose the spearhead of the range, Mount Elias, sheathed in snow for acouple of thousand feet down, and cut against the intense blue ofthe sky with the keenness and edge of steel. From Panitza their pathlay for five or six miles along the upward slope, and where it struckthe ridge they could see the huddled roofs of a village, which Yannisaid was Kalyvia, where they delivered their first message. From therethe track crossed a pass and went down the other side towards thesea. It was rough, cold going on the heights, and it would be a fullday's journey to get down to Platsa, where they would sleep. Afterthat they would travel chiefly by night, and sleep when and where theycould, avoiding as far as possible all villages but those where theywere charged with messages. "Oh, it will be very good," said Yanni.Mitsos' thoughts went aching back to the bay of Nauplia; but he agreed.Besides, he would go to Nauplia again soon.
It had been an immense relief to him that he was not going alone,though in that moment when Nicholas had told him that the time was comehe had made his self-surrender absolute, and would have taken upon himany outrageous task which might have been imposed. But the four daysof travelling alone from Nauplia had been like a sick man's dream. Hehad set off at daybreak, and taking the same path by which Nicholas hadcome the evening before, he reached in an hour the little bay where hehad fished, and sat down under the clump of rushes where they had sattogether, looking at the well-known places with the eyes of a dog thatcomes back to a deserted house which has once been home. In the sand hecould see the footprints made by his own bare feet as he came up fromthe water, and close beside them the print of Suleima's little pointedshoes. They had overlooked two or three small fish, which were lyingstill fresh and clean after the cool night, where they had emptiedthe creel to count their spoils, and by them was the dottle of thepipe he had smoked. And at the sight of these little things the childwithin him cried out against his fate. Nothing in the world seemed ofappreciable account except the need of Suleima. Yet it was no lessimpossible to go back: even as he said to himself that he would return,he knew that Nicholas's gray, questioning eyes were unfaceable. He washedged in by impossibilities on every side. And then because there wassomething more than the child within him, some stuff out of which realmen are made, he got up, and mounting again went on his way. All thatday and the next days his heart-sickness rode him like a night-hag,and it was but a heavy-souled lad who trudged so bravely into Panitzacracking his whip. But to be among people again, and men who receivedhim cousin-fashion--for in those days the tie of blood was a warmreality--had an extraordinary sweetness for him, for he felt lonelyand sick for home; above all, to find that for the present he would bewith Yanni, a boy of his own age, who took for granted that they weregoing to have the best of hours together, and only knew one side ofthings, and that the cheerful side, was surpassingly pleasant. Again,because he was beginning to be a man, the confidence placed in himmade him feel self-reliant, and because he was still a boy the unknownadventurous days in front of him were very tonic to the spirit. And soit was, that when they set out early next morning, Petrobey, lookingafter them, said to Demetri that Nicholas was a very wise man; andMitsos whacked his mule gayly over the rump, and whistled the "Song ofthe Vine-diggers" with more than cheerfulness of lip, and took the roadwith an open heart.