CHAPTER IV
YANNI PAYS A VISIT TO THE TURK
Their last day's journey to Panitza was no more than a five hours'going, and by mid-day the two boys had crossed the ridge of mountainwhich toppled above it, and saw it nestled in a hollow below them.There, too, they found Petrobey himself, who had ridden out to meetthem, both to give them news and take theirs. After they had eaten,Mitsos told their story, at which the soul of Petrobey was lifted highwithin him, and he was filled with an exceeding joy when he heard ofthe fate of Krinos.
"But all this spying and suspicion among the Turks make the next orderthe more necessary," he said, when Mitsos had finished. "Yanni, lad, Iam very sorry, but it is Tripoli for you and Nauplia for Mitsos."
Yanni looked up at Mitsos.
"Oh, lucky one!" he said, below his breath, "see that Suleima hasforgotten you not."
Then aloud:
"When shall I have to go to that kennel, father?" he said.
"You can stay here two days or three, and then you and Mitsos will gotogether. That Mehemet Salik has a sharp nose; but you shall be redherring to him, Yanni, and he will smell no farther afield."
Yanni wrinkled up his face with an expression of pungent disgust.
"I want no Turk smelling round me," he said. "It is the devil'sbusiness. How long must I be there, think you?"
"Not long, I hope. A month, perhaps. It will be an experience worthpaying for, even for you. They will treat you royally, for they have nodesire to make enemies among the clan. I want Mitsos to go with you asyour servant for a day or two, so that he too may have free access tothe governor's house and know where you will be in case they get morealarmed and keep you close, so that when the time comes for your escapehe may easily find you."
"That will be a fine day for me," said Yanni.
"And what for me," asked Mitsos, "after I leave Yanni there?"
"You go to Nauplia with a letter from me for Nicholas, but I expectyou will stay there just as long as the gull when he dips in the seaand out again. There will then be another journey for you northwardto Patras to speak with Germanos. However, Nicholas will tell you allthat."
Yanni sat up and pulled Mitsos' hair.
"O lazy dog," he said, "is it for this I pay you wages, that you shouldlie in the grass by your master"--and he felt in his pouch and foundhis tobacco gone--"and, by the Virgin! take his tobacco, and then notbe able to fill a pipe fit for a Turk to smoke?"
"Fill it for me, Yanni," said the other, returning the tobacco, "andlet go my hair before there is trouble for a little cousin of mine."
"You shall brush my clothes and sew my buttons," continued Yanni, "andlay my supper, and eat of my leavings. It is a fine thing to have agood strong servant. There's your pipe."
Mitsos reached out a huge hand, plucked Yanni's pipe from his mouth,and lit his own at it.
"There is a good clean smell abroad to-day," he said. "It is the firstof spring. Just think; last year only I went out picking flowers withthe little boys and girls on this day, and here am I now a man of war.It was good to sleep under the pines and wake to them whispering; wasit not, Yanni? Perhaps that will come again when the kennel-work isover."
"Easter candles give I to the Mother of God," said Yanni, "for the daysthat are gone, and a candle more for every day we journey together,Mitsos."
"The Blessed Mother of God will have a brave lighting up one night,then," said Petrobey, "if things go well with us. There's many a trampfor you both yet. And who will be paying for the candles, little Yanni?"
The third day after, the two set out for Tripoli, Yanni trinketed outin his best clothes, as was fit for the son of a great chief, and goingforward on a fine gray horse, Mitsos behind him on his own pony, in thedress of a servant, leading the baggage-mule. Four days' travelling,for they rode but short hours, being in no way very eager to get tothe "kennel-work," as Mitsos called it, brought them to Tripoli, whereYanni went straight to the governor's house, leaving Mitsos outside inthe square with the beasts.
The house stood on one side of the square, but to those outsideshowed only a bald face of wall, pierced here and there with a fewiron gratings. As Mitsos waited he saw a woman's face thickly veiledpeering out from one of these, and guessed rightly that here were thewomen's quarters. An arched gateway leading into the garden and closedby a heavy door, which had been opened to Yanni by the porter, andshut again immediately after he had entered, alone gave access to thepremises. After waiting a few minutes the door was again opened, and aTurkish servant came out to help him to carry in the luggage. But theluggage was but light and Mitsos carried it all in himself, while theporter, leaning on his long stick, and resplendent in his embroideredwaistcoat and red gaiters trimmed with gold, looked at him withindolent insolence, playing with the silver-chased handle of his longdagger. Behind the gate stood a small room for the porter, and on theleft, as he entered, the side of the block of building he had seen fromthe street. A door was pierced in the middle of it, but the windows,as outside, were narrowly barred. The path was bordered on each sideby a strip of gay garden-bed, and following the porter's directions hewent straight on and past the corner of the main block, from the endof which ran out another narrow building right up to the bounding wallaway from the street. In front of this lay a square garden planted withorange-trees and flowering shrubs, the house itself running from thesquare to the bounding wall at the back.
This second block of narrow buildings was two-storied, the upperstory being faced by a balcony which was reached from below by anoutside staircase. Four rooms opened onto this, and, still followinghis directions, he knocked at the first of the doors and a young Turkcame out, who, seeing Mitsos with the luggage, reached down a key andproceeded to open the doors of the next two rooms. These, he said toMitsos, were his master's rooms, and the end room was a slip of a placewhere he could sleep if his master wished to have him near. So Mitsos,as Yanni did not appear, unpacked his luggage and waited for him.
Yanni came up presently, accompanied by the porter, and was shown intohis rooms, where Mitsos was busy arranging things. He shut the doorhastily, and, waiting till the steps of the porter had creaked awaydown the balcony steps, broke out with an oath.
"The very devil, Mitsos," he said; "but this is no good job we are on.Here am I, and from within this kennel-place I may not stir. I sleepand am fed, and for exercise I may walk in that pocket-handkerchief ofa garden and pick a flower to smell, but out of these walls I don'tmove."
Mitsos whistled.
"It is then good that I came," he said. "I suppose this Turk next dooris your keeper. Oh, Yanni, but we shall have bitter dealings with himbefore you get out of this. I shall stop here to-night--there is a roomI may use next this--and you inside and I outside must just examine thelie of things. I will go out now, round to the stables to see if thehorses are properly cared for, and before I come back I will have goneround the outside of this place and seen what is beyond these walls.And you look about inside."
Mitsos returned in about an hour. "It wasn't good," he said, "but itmight have been worse." From the square it was impossible to get intothe place, except through the gate, and equally impossible to get out.To the right of the gate stood the corner house of the square, andnext to it a row of houses opening out on the street leading from thesquare, and there was no getting in that way. On the left the long wallof the back of the house looked out blankly into another correspondingstreet running into the square, but farther down things were nothopeless; for the house next Mehemet's stood back from the street inthe middle of its garden, and was enclosed by an eight-foot wall. "Noneso high," quoth Mitsos, "but that a bigger man than you could get up."Standing on the top of the wall, it would be possible to get onto theroof of the block of buildings in which they were, and from there downonto the balcony, which was covered in and supported by pillars, one ofwhich stood in front of Yanni's door. "And where a man has come, theremay two go," said Mitsos, in conclusion; "so do not look as if themarrow had left your bones; Yanni."
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"It's all very good for you," said Yanni, mournfully; "but here amI cooped up like a tame hen for a month, or it may be more, in thisdevil-kennel place, with a garden to walk in and an orange to suck. Eh,Mitsos, but it will be a gay life for me sitting here in this scentedtown. A fat-bellied, slow-footed cousin will you find when you come forme. I doubt not I shall be sitting cross-legged on the floor with anarghile, and a string of beads, and a flower in my hair."
"Oh, you'll soon get fit again on the mountains," said Mitsos,cheerfully. "I expect it will be quick going when I come to fetch youout of this."
Yanni nodded his head towards the Turk's room next door.
"Some night when you come tramping on the roof overhead," he said,"will he not wake and pluck you by the two heels as you come down ontothe balcony?"
Mitsos grinned.
"There will be fine doings that night," he said. "If only you lookedinto the street we could arrange that you should be at the window everynight, and I could whistle you a signal; but here, bad luck to it! Icould whistle till my lips were in rags and you would not hear. I shallhave to come in myself."
Mitsos stopped in Tripoli two days, and before he left Yanni hadplucked up heart again concerning the future. However much the Turksmight in their hearts distrust the scornful clan, they could not affordto bring that nest of hornets about their ears without grave reason.Yanni had but to ask for a thing and he had it; it was only not allowedhim to set foot outside the house and garden. About his ultimate safetyhe had no shadow of doubt. Mitsos had examined the wall again, anddeclared confidently that he would not find the slightest difficulty ingetting in, and that their exit, with the help of a bit of rope, wasin the alphabet of the use of limbs. The Turk who was Yanni's keeperwas the only other occupant of that part of the house, the story belowbeing kitchens and washing-places not tenanted at night. "And for theTurk," said Yanni, "we will make gags and other arrangements." In themean time he announced his intention of being a model of discretion andpeacefulness, so that no suspicion might be aroused.
Mitsos was to start on the third day, and it was still the graynessthat precedes sunrise when he came into Yanni's room equipped forgoing. Yanni had told Mehemet Salik that his father could not spare himlonger, and that he was to go home at once; whereat Mehemet had verycourteously offered to put another Turkish servant at his disposal,a proposition which Yanni declined with some alacrity, as such anarrangement would mean another Turk in that block of building.
"And, O little Mitsos," said Yanni, "come for me as quick as may be. Ishall be weary for a sight of you. Dear cousin, we have had good daystogether, and may we have more soon, for I have a great love for you."
Mitsos kissed him.
"Yes, Yanni," he said, "as soon as I can come I will, and nothing,not Suleima herself, shall make me tarry for an hour till you are outagain."
"Ah! you have Suleima," said Yanni; "but for me, Mitsos, there is nonelike you. So, good-bye, cousin; forget me not, but come quickly."
And Mitsos swore the oath of the clan to him that neither man, woman,nor child, nor riches, nor honor, should make him tarry as soon as itwas possible for him to come again, and gave him his hand on it, andthen went down to saddle his pony with a blithe heavy-heartedness abouthim, for on one side he was leaving an excellent good comrade, but onin front there was waiting Suleima.
All day he travelled, and the moon which rose about midnight showedhim the bay just beneath him, all smooth and ashine with light. He hadtaken a more roundabout path, so as to avoid passing through Argos atnight, and another hour of quick going brought him down to the head ofthe sandy beach where he had fished with Suleima, and when he saw ithis heart sang to him. A southerly breeze whistled among the rushes,and set tiny razor-edged ripples prattling on the pebbles, and sweetwas the well-remembered freshness of the sea, and sweet, but with howexquisite a spice of bitterness, the remembrance of one night threeweeks ago. Then on again down the narrow path, where blackthorn andolive brushed him as he passed, by the great white house with thesea-wall he knew well, and into the road just opposite his father'shouse. The dog rushed out from the veranda intent on slaughter of thismidnight intruder, but at Mitsos' whispered word he jumped up fawningon his hand, and in a couple of minutes more Nicholas, who was a lightsleeper, and had been awakened by the bark, unfastened the door.
"Mitsos, is it little Mitsos?" said the well-known voice.
"Yes, Uncle Nicholas," he said, "I have come back."
Mitsos slept late the next morning, and Nicholas, though he waitedimpatiently enough for his waking, let him have his sleep out, forthough he despised the necessities of life, such as eating anddrinking, he had the utmost respect for the simpler luxuries, such asthe fill of sleep and washing, and it was not till after nine thatMitsos stirred and awoke with a great lazy strength lying in him.Nicholas had had the great wooden tub filled for his bath, and while hedressed made him coffee and boiled his eggs, for times had gone hardwith Constantine, and he could no longer keep a servant. And as soon asMitsos had finished breakfast he and Nicholas fell to talk.
First Mitsos described his adventure down to his parting with Yanni,and the man of few words spoke not till he had finished. Then hesaid--and his words were milk and honey to the boy:
"It could not have been better done, little Mitsos. Now for Petrobey'sletter."
He read it out to Mitsos:
"Dear Cousin,--This will Mitsos bring you, and I desire no better messenger. He will tell you what he has been doing; and I could hear that story many times without being tired. Yanni, poor lad, is kennelled in Tripoli, and in this matter some precision will be needed, for now we are already being rung to the feast ['Petrobey will not stick to home-brewed words,' remarked Nicholas], and my poor lad must remain in Tripoli till the nick of the moment. Once he is safe out we will fall to, and he must not be out till the last possible moment. Oh, Nicholas, be very careful and tender for the boy. Again, the meeting of primates is summoned for early in March. Moles and owls may not see what this means. Some excuse must be found so that they go not; therefore, cousin, lay hands on that weaving brain of yours until it answers wisely ['What a riddling fellow this is!' growled the reader], and talk with Germanos through the mouth of Mitsos. A further news for you. The monks of Ithome have turned warmly to their country, so there will be no lack of hands in the south, and they from Megaspelaion had better keep to their own country, and outbreak at the same time as we at Kalamata, so shall then be the more magnificent confusion, and from the north as well as the south will the dogs run into Tripoli. Some signal will be needed, so that on the day that we rise in the south they too may make trouble in the north; some device of fiery beacons, I should say."
Here Petrobey's epistolary style broke down and he finished in goodcolloquial Greek:
"Oh, cousin, but a feast day is coming, and there will be a yelp and a howl from Kalamata to Patras. By God! I'd have given fifty brace of woodcock, though they are scarce this year, to see that barbarian nephew of yours throw Krinos under the millstone; and my boy Yanni has the cunning of an old grandfather. I think Mitsos can tell you all else. Come here yourself as soon as you safely may. The mother of God and your name-saint protect you!
"Petros Mavromichales.
"Tell Mitsos about the devil-ships. There will not be much time afterwards."
Nicholas thumped the letter as it lay on the table.
"Now, Mitsos," he said, "tell me all that you have to do. Yes, take apipe and give yourself a few minutes to think."
Mitsos smoked in silence a few minutes, and then turned to Nicholas.
"This is it," he said. "First of all, I go to Patras--no, first I shallgo to Megaspelaion to tell the monks that they will be wanted in thenor
th and not the south, and arrange some signals, so that we fromTaygetus or Panitza or Kalamata can communicate with them. Then I goto Patras, bearing some message from you to Germanos, whereby he shallexcuse himself from going to Tripoli with all the primates, for thatis a trap to get them into the power of the Turk. Then there is somebusiness about devil-ships which I do not understand, and at the last Ihave to get Yanni safely out of Tripoli. But before that I imagine youwill have gone to my cousin Petrobey."
Nicholas nodded approvingly.
"You have a clear head for so large a boy," he said, "though apparentlyyou are not so crafty as Yanni. Now what we have to do, now thismoment, is to invent some excuse whereby Germanos and the primates willfind means to disobey Mehemet Salik when he summons them to Tripoli.Oh, Mitsos, but it is a wise man's thoughts that we want."
Mitsos knitted his forehead.
"Can't they go there and then escape, as Yanni is to do?" he said,precipitately.
Nicholas shook his head in reproof.
"Fifty cassocked primates climbing over a town wall! Little Mitsos, youare no more than a fool."
Mitsos laughed.
"So Yanni often told me," he said. "I'm afraid it's true."
"Try and be a shade more sensible. Think of all the impossible ways ofdoing it, and then see what is left, for that will be the right way.Now first, they must either refuse to go point-blank or seem to beobeying. Certainly they must not refuse outright to go; so that leavesus with them seeming to obey."
"Well, they mustn't get there," said Mitsos; "so they must stop on theway."
"That is true. Why should they stop on the way? We will go slow here."
"There must be something that stops them," said Mitsos, with extremecaution.
"Yes, you are going very slow indeed, but it is a fault on the rightside. Something must stop them, which even in the eyes of the Turkswill seem reasonable and enable them all to disperse again, for theywill all go together from Patras. Oh, why did my mother give birth to afool?"
Mitsos suddenly got up and held his finger in the air.
"Wait a minute," he cried, "don't speak to me, Uncle Nicholas.... Ah,this is it. We will imagine there is a Turk in Tripoli friendly toGermanos. We will imagine he sends a letter of warning to Germanos. Doyou see? Germanos reads the letter aloud to the fathers, and they sendto Tripoli demanding assurance of their safety, and so disperse. Quick,Uncle Nicholas, write a letter from the friendly Turk in Tripoli toGermanos, which he will read the fathers on the journey."
Nicholas stared at Mitsos in sheer astonishment for a moment.
"Out of the mouth of big babes and sucklings!" he ejaculated. "Oh,Mitsos, but it is no less than a grand idea. Tell me again."
Mitsos was flushed with excitement.
"Oh, Uncle Nicholas, but it's plainer than the sun," he cried. "I go toPatras, and before now the summons for the primates and bishops willhave come. I take to Germanos your instructions that they assembleas if to go, and make a day's journey or two days' journey. Then onemorning there comes to Germanos a letter from Tripoli, from a Turk towhom he has been a friend. 'Do not go,' it says, 'without an assuranceof your safety, for the Turks are treacherous.' So Germanos sends backa messenger to Tripoli to ask for an assurance of safety, and meantimethey all disperse again, and by the time the Turks can bring themtogether with an assurance of safety or what not, why the feast, as mycousin Petrobey says, will be ready."
Nicholas sat silent a moment.
"Little Mitsos," he said, at length, "but you are no fool. I was one tosay so."
Mitsos laughed.
"Will it do then?"
"It is of the best," said Nicholas.
The more Nicholas thought it over, the more incomparable did Mitsos'scheme appear. It was amazingly simple, and, as far as he could see,without a flaw. It seemed to solve every difficulty, and made the wholeaction of the primates as planned inevitable. It would be impossiblefor them to go to Tripoli, and by the time the demand for safety hadreached Mehemet Salik, and been granted, they would have dispersed.
The second piece of business was to let them know at the monasterythat their arms and men would not be needed, as Nicholas had expected,in the south, but for a simultaneous outbreak in the north; and therewas also to be arranged some code of signals that could travel inan hour or two from one end of the Peloponnesus to the other. Thesimplest system, that of beacon-fires, seemed to be the best, and waspeculiarly well suited to a country like the Peloponnesus, where therewere several ranges of mountains which overtopped the long interveningtracts of hills and valleys, and were clearly visible from one another.From Taygetus three intermediate beacons could probably carry news tothe hills above Megaspelaion, and two beacons more to Patras.
There were, then, two messages to be conveyed to Megaspelaion--thefirst, that their arms would be required in the north, so that therewas no need of their beginning to make depots of them southward, asNicholas had suggested in his last visit there; and the second, toarrange a system of beacons with them. It was not necessary that Mitsosshould give the first message himself, as Nicholas had told them tobe ready to receive a messenger--man, woman, or child--who spoke ofblack corn for the Turk, though it must be delivered at once; but forthe second it were better that he carried with him not only a letterfrom Nicholas, but also one from Germanos, with whom they would have toarrange the beacons between Patras and the monastery. Also, he wishedMitsos to take a message to Corinth, and go from there to Patras,where he would see Germanos, and thence return by Megaspelaion, not toNauplia, for Nicholas would already have joined Petrobey, but back toPanitza.
Mitsos nodded.
"But who will take the first message to Megaspelaion?" he asked.
Nicholas turned to Constantine.
"Whom do we know there? Stay, did not one Yanko Vlachos, with his wifeMaria, move on to monastery land a month or two ago?"
"Maria?" said Mitsos. "Maria is a very good woman. But I doubt ifVlachos is any use. He is a wine-bibbing mule."
"Where does he live?" asked Nicholas.
"At Goura, a day's journey from Nemea."
"Goura? There are plenty of good folk there. You had better go out ofyour way at Nemea, Mitsos, spend the night with Yanko, and arrange forthe message being taken; and then go back next day to Nemea, and soto Corinth, where you will take ship. Pay him horse-hire and wage forfour days, if it is wanted. I will give you letters to Priketes andGermanos. What else is there?"
"Only the business of the devil-ships, of which I know nothing; and toget Yanni out of the kennel."
"The devil-ships can wait till Panitza. When will you be ready tostart?"
Mitsos thought of the white wall, and his heartstrings throbbed withinhim.
"I could go to-morrow," he said. "The pony will need a day to rest."
Nicholas rose from the table and walked up and down once or twice.
"I don't want Yanni to stop at the house of that Turk longer thanis necessary," he said. "It was a bold move and a clever one ofPetrobey's, but it may become dangerous."
Mitsos said nothing, for it was a hard moment. Had not the thoughtof this evening--the white wall, the dark house on the bay withSuleima--been honey in the mouth for days past, and become ineffablesweetness as the time drew nearer? Yet, on the other hand, had he notsworn to Yanni the oath of the clan--that neither man, woman, nor childshould make him tarry? He desired definite assurance on one point.
"Uncle Nicholas," he said, at length, "if I went to-day would Yanni getout of Tripoli a day sooner?"
Nicholas turned round briskly.
"Why, surely," he said; "when this business is put through there isstill but little more to do, but until it is all done Yanni is clappedin his kennel. The moment it is over he is out."
Mitsos sat still a moment longer.
"I will start to-day," he said. "It is only a short day's journey toNemea. Write your letter, please, Uncle Nicholas, and then I will go."
"I don't know whether it really matters if you go to-day
orto-morrow," said Nicholas, seeing that the boy for some reason wishedto stop.
"No, no," broke out Mitsos. "You think it is better for me to goto-day. The sooner the business is over the sooner Yanni comes out. Yousaid so."
Nicholas raised his eyebrows at this outburst. He did not understand itin the least.
"I will write, then, at once," he said. "It is true that the soonerYanni comes out the better."
Mitsos stood with his back to him, looking out of the window, and twogreat tears rose in his eyes. He was giving up more than any one knew.
Nicholas saw that something was wrong, but as Mitsos did not careto enlighten him, it was none of his business. But he had a greataffection for the lad, and as he passed he laid his hand on hisshoulder.
"You are a good little Mitsos," he said. "The letters will be readyin an hour. You will have dinner here, will you not, and set outafterwards? You cannot go farther than Nemea to-night."
So after dinner Mitsos set out again, and it seemed to him as he wentthat the heart within him was being torn up as the weeds in a vineyardare rooted for the burning. And on this journey there was no thoughtthat he would soon come back. He was to return, Nicholas told him,not to Nauplia, but to Panitza, where there would be work for himto do until the time came for him to get Yanni out of Tripoli. Bythen everything would be ready, the beacons would flare across thePeloponnesus, and simultaneously in the north and at Kalamata theoutbreak would begin. The reason for this was twofold. The Greek forceswere not yet sufficiently organized to conduct the siege of Tripoli,which was strongly fortified, well watered, and heavily garrisoned.Kalamata, however, was a more pregnable place, the water supply wasbad inside the citadel, and the garrison not numerous. Again, it was aport, and by getting possession of the harbor, which was not defended,and separate from the citadel, they would drive those who escapedinland to Tripoli. The movements in the north, too, would have the sameeffect. Tripoli was the strongest fortress in the Peloponnesus, and bythe autumn, when, as Nicholas hoped, the Greeks would be sufficientlyorganized to undertake the siege, it would be the only refuge left forthe Turks who were still in the country. Then it would be that thegreat blow would be struck which would free the whole Peloponnesus. Inthe interval the plan was as far as possible to cut the country offfrom the rest of the world by a fleet which was being organized inthe islands, and by means of the fire-ships which should destroy theTurkish vessels seeking to leave it, and prevent others from cominginto the ports. For practical purposes there were only four ports--atCorinth, Patras, Nauplia, and Kalamata. The first two would be thecare of the leaders of the revolution in the north; for Kalamata andNauplia, Nicholas and Petrobey had arrangements in hand.
That night Mitsos slept at Nemea, and all next day travelled across thegreat inland plain where lie the lakes. Through the length and breadthof that delectable country the spirit of spring was abroad--crocusesand the early anemones burned in the thickets, and the dim purple iriscradled bees in a chalice of gold. Brimming streams crossed the path,and the sunlight lay on their pebbly beds in a diaper of amber andstencilled shadow, and Mitsos' pony at the mid-day halt ate his fill ofthe young, juicy grass. But in the lad's heart the spring woke no echo;he went heavily, and the glorious adventure to which he had sacrificedhis new-found manhood, fully indeed and without a murmur, seemed tohim a thing of little profit. And if he had known what hard days werewaiting for him, and the blank agonies and bitterness through which hewas to fulfil his destiny, he would, it is to be feared, have turnedhis pony's head round and said that an impossible thing was asked ofhim. But he knew nothing beyond this two-week task now set him, and tothis he was committed, not only by his promise to Nicholas--and, to dohim justice, his own self-respect--but by the oath of the clan, whichrather than fail in he would have sooner died.
The second evening a little before sunset he saw Goura close beforehim, standing free and roomily on a breezy hill-side, and ringed withvineyards. Behind lay the great giants of the mountain range--Helmoscowled in snow, and Cyllene all sunset-flushed. Yanko's house proved tobe at the top of the village, and there he found Maria with a face allsmiles for his welcoming. Yanko was still in the fields, and Mitsos andMaria talked themselves up to date with each other till he came home.
Oh yes, he was a good husband, said Maria, and he earned a fine wage.He was as strong as a horse, and when he let the wine-shop alone hedid the work of two men. "And I am strong too," said she, "and when hedoesn't come home by ten in the evening it will be no rare thing for meto bring him back with a clout over the head for his foolishness. Andwhy are you here, Mitsos?"
"Business," he said; "business for Nicholas. It is Yanko who can do itfor us. I may tell you about it, Maria, for so Nicholas said. He iswanted to take a message to the monastery. Four days' horse-hire, ifhe wishes, will be paid, and he will be doing a good work for many."
"On business against the Turk?" asked Maria.
"Surely."
Maria shook her head doubtfully.
"Yanko is a good man," she said, "but he is a man of the belly. So longas there is food in plenty, and plenty of wine, he does not care. Buthe will not be long; you shall ask him. It is so good to see you again,Mitsos. Do you remember our treading the grapes together in the autumn?How you have grown since then! Your height is two of Yanko, but thenYanko is very fat."
Maria looked at him approvingly with her head on one side; shedistinctly felt a little sentimental. Mitsos reminded her of Nauplia,and of the days when she was so proud of being engaged to Yanko whilestill only seventeen, and of having Mitsos, whom she had always thoughtwonderfully good-looking and pleasant, if not at her feet, at any rateinterested in her. She had been more than half disposed, as far as herpersonal inclination had gone, to put Yanko off for a bit and try herchance with the other; but she was safe with Yanko, and he did quitewell. But it both hurt her and pleased her to see Mitsos again--hewas better looking than ever, and he had a wonderful way with him, anair of breeding--Maria did not analyze closely, but this is what shemeant--to which the estimable Yanko was quite a stranger. And thisbrave adventure of his, of which he told her the main outlines; hiskinship to, and rapturous adoption by, the great Mavromichales' clan,lent him a new and powerful attraction. And when Yanko's heavy stepwas heard outside Maria turned away with a sigh and thought he seemedearlier and fatter than usual.
"AFTER SUPPER MITSOS EXPOUNDED"]
Yanko, always sleek, had grown rather gross, and his red, shiny faceand small, boiled-looking eyes presented a strong contrast to Mitsos'thin, bronzed cheeks and clear iris. But the husband seemed glad to seehim, and agreed that Mitsos' errand had best wait till after supper.
So after supper Mitsos expounded, and Yanko shifted from one foot tothe other, and seemed uncomfortable. "And," said Mitsos, in conclusion,"I can give you horse-hire for four days."
Yanko sat silent for a while, then abruptly told his wife to drawanother jug of wine. Maria had a sharp tongue when her views weredissentient from his, and he would speak more easily if she were notthere. Maria, who had listened to Mitsos with wide, eager eyes and aheightened color, went off quickly and returned in equal haste, anxiousnot to lose anything.
"It's like this," Yanko was saying. "What with this and that I've a lotof farm work on my hands, and, to tell the truth, but little wish tomix myself up in the affair; and as for four days' horse-hire, it willpay my way, but where's my profit?"
Mitsos frowned.
"You won't go?" he said, half rising; "then I mustn't wait, but findsome one else."
At this Maria burst out:
"Shame, Yanko!" she said. "I have a mule-man for a husband. It is thatyou think of nothing but piastres, and are afraid of taking on yourselffor two days such work as Mitsos spends his months in. Am I to sit hereand see you drinking and eating and sleeping, and never lift a handfor the sake of any but yourself? Ah, if I was a man I would not havechosen a wife with as little spirit as my husband has."
Maria banged the wine-jug down on the table, and cas
t a scornful lookat Yanko. Then she crossed over to Mitsos and took his glass to fillit, filling her own at the same time.
"This to you," she said, clinking her glass at his, "and to the healthof all brave men."
Then with another scowl at Yanko:
"Can't you even drink to those who are made different to yourself, ifthey are of a finer bake?" she said; "or is there not spirit in you forthat? I should have been a mile on the way by this time," she said toMitsos, "if it had pleased the good God to make me a man and send youwith such a message to me."
"You, Maria?" said Mitsos, suddenly.
"Yes, and how many days of horse-hire does Yanko think I should haveasked for my pains? Nay, I should have lit candles to the Virgin in thejoy of having such work given me to do, if I had had to beg my way."
Mitsos remembered Nicholas's directions.
"Will you go?" he said. "You would do it as well as any man. It is justFather Priketes you have to ask for, and give the message."
"Nonsense, Maria," said Yanko; "a woman can't do a thing like that."
Maria's indignant speeches had a touch of the high rhetorical aboutthem, but Yanko's remark just stamped them into earnestness.
"You'll be drawing your own wine for yourself the next few days," shesaid, "and I shall be over the hills doing what you were afraid of. I'mblithe to go," she said to Mitsos, "and to-morrow daybreak will see meon the way."
Yanko, on the whole, was relieved; it would have been a poor thing tosend Mitsos to another house in quest of a sturdier patriot than he,and Maria's offer had obviated this without entailing the journey onhimself. Poor Yanko had been born of a meek and quiet spirit, and thepossession of the earth in company with like-minded men would haveseemed to him a sufficiently beatified prospect. He had no desirefor brave and boisterous adventure, new experiences held for himno ecstasy: even in the matter of drinking, which was the chiefestpleasure of his life, he maintained a certain formula of moderation,never passing beyond the stage of a slightly fuddled head; and awholesome fear of Maria--not acute, but steady--as a rule, drove himhome while he was still perfectly capable of getting there. The ruleof his life was a certain sordid mean, which has been the subject forpraise in the mouth of poets, who have even gone so far as to call itgolden, and is strikingly exemplified in the lives of cows and otherruminating animals. He was possessed of certain admirable qualities, acapacity for hard work and a real affection for his eminent wife beingamong them, but he was surely cast in no heroic mould. He had no fine,heady virtues which carry their own reward in the constant admirationthey excite, but of the more inglorious excellences he had an averageshare.
Mitsos arrived at Corinth next night after a very long day, and found acaique starting in an hour or two for Patras. He had just time to leaveNicholas's message to the mayor of the town, get food, and bargain fora passage to Patras for himself and his pony. The wind was but lightand variable through the night, but next day brought a fine singingbreeze from the east, and about the time that he landed at Patras Mariasaw below her from the top of a pass the roof of the monastery ashinewith the evening sun from a squall of rain which had crossed the hillsthat afternoon.
Her little pinch-eared mule went gayly down through the sweet-smellingpine forest which clothed the upper slope below which the monasterystood, and every now and then she passed one or two of the monksengaged on their work--some burning charcoal; some cleaning out thechannels which led from the snow-water stream, all milky and hurrying,after a day of sun, down to the vineyards; others, with their cassockskilted up for going, piloting timber-laden mules down home, and allgave Maria a "Good-day" and a "Good journey."
Outside the gate a score or so of the elder men were enjoying the lasthour of sunlight, sitting on the stone benches by the fountain, smokingand talking together. One of these, tall and white-bearded, let hisglance rest on Maria as she rode jauntily down the path; but when,instead of passing by on the road, she turned her mule aside up theterrace in front of the gate, he got up quickly with a kindled eye andspoke to the brother next him.
"Has it come," he said, "even as Nicholas told us it might?" and hewent to meet Maria.
"God bless your journey, my daughter!" he said, "and what need you ofus?"
Maria glanced round a little nervously.
"I want to speak to Father Priketes, my father," she said.
"You speak to him."
"Have you corn, father?" she said.
A curious hush had fallen on the others, and Maria's words were audibleto them all. At her question they rose to their feet and came a littlenearer, and a buzzing whisper rose and died away again.
"Corn for the needy or corn for the Turk?" asked Priketes, while roundthere was a silence that could have been cut with a knife.
"Black corn for the Turk. Let there be no famine, and have fifteenhundred men ready to carry it when the signal comes, and that willbe soon. Not far will they have to go. It will be needed here, atKalavryta."
Maria slipped down from her mule and spoke low to Priketes.
"And oh, father, there is something more, but I cannot remember thewords I was to use; but I know what it means, for Mitsos, the nephew ofNicholas, told me."
Father Priketes smiled.
"Say it then, my daughter."
"It is this: if you have guns stored in readiness southward, get themback. It will not happen just as Nicholas expected. You will want allyour men and arms here."
"It is well. What will the signal be?"
"I know not; but in a few days Mitsos will come from Patras. Oh, youwill know him when you see him--as tall as a pillar, and a face like aspring morning or a wind on the hill--and to see him does a body good.He knows and will tell you."
"I will expect Mitsos, then," said Priketes. "You will stay hereto-night; there shall be made ready for you the great guest-room--foryou are an honored guest--the room where the daughter of an emperoronce lodged."
Maria hesitated.
"I could get back to some village to-night," she said. "I ought not todelay longer than I need."
"And shame our hospitality?" said Priketes. "Besides, you are aconspirator now, my daughter, and you must use the circumspection ofone. What manner of return would you make at dead of night to whereyou slept before, with no cause to give? To-morrow you shall go back,and say how pleased your novice brother was to see you--and the liebe laid to the account of the Turk, who fill our mouths perforce withthese things--and how you had honor of the monks. Give your mule to thelad, my daughter. It shall be well cared for."
So Maria had her chance, and took it. An adventure and a quest forthe good of her country were offered her, and she embraced them. Forthe moment she rose to the rank of those who work personally for thegood of countries and great communities, and then passed back into herlevel peasant life again. Goura, as it turned out, took no part in thedeeds that were coming. Its land was land of the monastery, and theTurks never visited its sequestered valley with cruelty, oppression,or their lustful appetites. Yet the great swelling news that came tothe inhabitants of that little mountain village, only as in the ears ofchildren a sea-shell speaks of remotely breaking waves, had to Mariaa reality and a nearness that it lacked to others, and her life wascrowned with the knowledge that she had for a moment laid her fingerharmoniously on the harp which made that glorious symphony.
Mitsos' work at Patras was easily done. Germanos was delighted with theidea of the forged letter from the Turk, and was frankly surprised tohear that the notion was born of the boy's brain. Being something ofa scholar, he quoted very elegantly the kindred notion of Athene, whowas wisdom, springing full-grown from the brain of Zeus, for Mitsos'idea, so he was pleased to say, was complete in itself, mature from itsbirth. Mitsos did not know the legend to which the primate referred,and so he merely expressed his gratification that the scheme wasconsidered satisfactory. The affair of the beacons took more time,for Mitsos on his journey south back to Panitza would have to makearrangements for their kindling, and it was thus necessary t
hat theirsituation should be accessible to villages where Nicholas was known,and where the boy could find some one to undertake to fire the beaconas soon as the next beacon south was kindled. Furthermore, thoughGermanos knew the country well, it would be best for Mitsos to verifythe suitability of the places chosen, "for," as the archbishop said,"you might burn down all the pine-woods on Taygetus, and little shouldwe reck of it if Taygetus did not happen to be visible from Lycaon; butwe should stand here like children with toy swords till the good blackcorn grew damp and the hair whitened on our temples."
As at present arranged, Mitsos would be back at Panitza on the 10thof March, after which, as Nicholas had told him, there would be morework to do before he could go for Yanni at Tripoli. It was, therefore,certain--taking the shortest estimate--that the beacon signal couldnot possibly occur till March 20th, but that on that evening and everyevening after the signalmen must be at their posts waiting for theflame to spring up on Taygetus. For the beacons between Patras andMegaspelaion there would be no difficulty; two at high points on themountains would send the message all the way, and the only doubtfulpoint was where to put the beacon which should be intermediate betweenthat on Taygetus and that on Helmos, which latter could signal to onedirectly above the monastery. Germanos was inclined to think that acertain spur of Lycaon, lying off the path to the right, some fourmiles from Andritsaena, and standing directly above an old temple,which would serve Mitsos as a guiding point, would answer the purpose.If so, it could be worked from Andritsaena, and the priest there, atwhose house Mitsos would find a warm welcome if he stayed for thenight, would certainly undertake it.
Mitsos went off again the next day, with the solemn blessing of thearchbishop in his ears and the touch of kindly hands in his, andreached Megaspelaion in two days. Here he had news of Maria's safearrival. "And a brave lass she is," said Father Priketes. The businessof the beacons was soon explained, and next morning Father Priketeshimself accompanied Mitsos on his journey to the top of the pass abovethe monastery, in order to satisfy himself that from there both thepoints fixed upon--that on the spur of Helmos, and also that towardsPatras--were visible.
Their way lay through the pine-woods where Maria had come three daysbefore, and a hundred little streams ran bubbling down through theglens, and the thick lush grass of the spring-time was starred withprimroses and sweet-smelling violets. Above that lay an upland valley,all in cultivation, and beyond a large, bleak plateau of rock, on thetop of which the beacon was to burn. Another half-hour's climb saw themthere, a strange, unfriendly place, with long parallel strata of grayrock, tipped by some primeval convulsion onto their side, and lyinglike a row of razors. In the hollows of the rocks the snow was stilllying, but the place was alive with the whisper of new-born streams. Afew pine-trees only were scattered over these gaunt surfaces, but inthe shelter of them sprang scarlet wind-flowers and hare-bells, whichshivered on their springlike stalks.
A few minutes' inspection was enough to show that the place was wellchosen--to the south rose the great mass of Helmos, and they couldclearly see a sugarcone rock, the proposed beacon site, standingrather apart from the main mountain, some fifteen miles to the south,just below which lay the village of Leondari, whither Mitsos wasbound, and towards Patras the contorted crag above Mavromati. Here, soPriketes promised, should a well-trusted monk watch every evening fromMarch 20th onward, and as soon as he saw the blaze on Helmos, he wouldlight his own beacon, waiting only to see it echoed above Mavromati,and go straight back with the news to the monastery. And the Turks atKalavryta, so said Priketes--for it was on Kalavryta that the firstblow was to descend--should have cause to remember the vengeance of thesword of God which His sons should wield.