Phroso Part 27

Then, for the first time that day, Phroso's eyes sought mine in a rapid glance, in which I read joy for my safety; but the glance fell as I answered it, and she turned away in confusion. Her avowal, forgotten for an instant in gladness, recurred to her mind and dyed her cheeks red. Averting my eyes from her, I looked down the slope of the street towards the sea. The thought of her and of nothing else was in my mind.

Ah, my island! My sweet capricious island!

A sudden uncontrollable exclamation burst from my lips and, raising my hand, I pointed to the harbour and the blue water beyond. Every head followed the direction of my outstretched finger; every pair of eyes was focussed on the object that held mine. A short breathless silence--a momentary wonder--then, shrill or deep, low in fear or loud in excitement, broke forth the cry:

'The Governor! The Governor!'

For a gunboat was steaming slowly into the harbour of Neopalia, and the Turkish flag flew over her.

The sight wrought transformation. In a moment, as it seemed to me, the throng round me melted away. The street grew desolate, the houses on either side swallowed their eager occupants; Kortes alone, with his prisoner, knew nothing of the fresh event, only Phroso and Francesca stood their ground. Demetri was slinking hastily away. The old priest was making for his home. The shutters of dead Vlacho's inn came down, and girls bustled to and fro, preparing food. I stood unwatched, unheeded, apparently forgotten; festival, tumult, trial, condemnation seemed pa.s.sed like visions; the flag that flew from the gunboat brought back modern days, the prose of life, and ended the wild poetic drama that we had played and a second One-eyed Alexander might worthily have sung. How had the Governor come before his time, and why?

'Denny!' I cried aloud in inspiration and hope, and I ran as though the foul fiends whom Demetri had heard were behind me. Down the steep street and on to the jetty I ran. As I arrived there the gunboat also reached it, and, a moment later, Denny was shaking my hand till it felt like falling off, while from the deck of the boat Hogvardt and Watkins were waving wild congratulations.

Denny had jumped straight from deck to jetty; but now a gangway was thrust out, and I pa.s.sed with him on to the deck, and presented myself, with a low bow, to a gentleman who stood there. He was a tall full-bodied man, apparently somewhat under fifty years old; his face was heavy and broad, in complexion dark and sallow; he wore a short black beard; his lips were full, his eyes acute and small. I did not like the look of him much; but he meant law and order and civilisation and an end to the wild ways of Neopalia. For this, as Denny whispered to me, was no less a man than the Governor himself, Mouraki Pasha. I bowed again yet lower; for I stood before a man of whom report had much to tell--something good, much bad, all interesting.

He spoke to me in low, slow, suave tones, employing the Greek language, which he spoke fluently, although as a foreigner. For Mouraki was by birth an Armenian.

'You must have much to tell me, Lord Wheatley,' he said with a smile.

'But first I must a.s.sure you with what pleasure I find you alive and unhurt. Be confident that you shall not want redress for the wrongs which these turbulent rascals have inflicted on you. I know these men of Neopalia: they are hard men; but they also know me, and that I, in my turn, can be a hard man if need be.' His looks did not belie his words, as his sharp eye travelled with an ominous glance over the little town by the harbour. 'But you will wish to speak with your friends first,' he went on courteously. 'May I ask your attention in half-an-hour's time from now?'

I bowed obedience. The great man turned away, and Denny caught me by the arm, crying, 'Now, old man, tell us all about it.'

'Wait a bit,' said I rather indignantly. 'Just you tell me all about it.'

But Denny was firmer than I, and my adventures came before his. I told them all faithfully, save one incident; it may perhaps be guessed which. Denny and the other two listened with frequent exclamations of surprise, and danced with exultation at the final worsting of Constantine Stefanopoulos.

'It's all right,' said Denny rea.s.suringly. 'Old Mouraki will hang him just the same.'

'Now it's your turn,' said I.

'Oh, our story's nothing. We just got through that old drain, and came out by the sea, and all the fishermen had gone off to the fishing-grounds, except one old chap they left behind to look after their victuals. Well, we didn't know how to get back to you, and the old chap told us that the whole place was alive with armed ruffians, so--'

'Just tell the story properly, will you?' said I sternly.

At last, by pressing and much questioning, I got the story from them, and here it is; for it was by no means so ordinary a matter as Denny's modesty would have had me think. When the consternation caused by the cutting of our rope had pa.s.sed away, a hurried council decided them to press on with all speed, and they took their way along a narrow, damp and slippery ledge of rock which encircled the basin. So perilous did the track seem that Hogvardt insisted on their being roped as though for a mountaineering ascent, and thus they continued the journey. The first opening from the basin they found without much difficulty. Now the rope proved useful, for Denny, pa.s.sing through first, fell headlong into s.p.a.ce and most certainly would have perished but for the support his companions gave him. The track turned at right angles to the left, and Denny had walked straight over the edge of the rock.

Sobered by this accident and awake to their peril (it must be remembered that they had no lantern), they groped their way slowly and cautiously, up and down, in and out. Hours pa.s.sed. Watkins, less accustomed than the others to a physical strain, could hardly lift his feet. All this while the dim glimmer which Denny had seen retreated before them, appearing to grow no nearer for all their efforts. They walked, as they found afterwards--or walked, crawled, scrambled and jumped--for eleven hours, their haste and anxiety allowed no pause for rest. Then they seemed to see the end, for the winding tortuous track appeared at last to make up its mind. It took a straight downward line, and Denny's hard-learned caution vanishing, he started along it at a trot and with a hearty hurrah. He tempted fate. The slope became suddenly a drop. This time all three fell with a splash and a thud into a deep pool, one on the top of the other. Here they scrambled for some minutes, Watkins coming very near to finding an end of the troubles of his eventful service. But Denny and Hogvardt managed to get him out. The path began again. Content with its last freak, it pursued now a business-like way, the glimmer grew to a gleam, the gleam spread into a glad blaze. 'The sea, the sea!' cried Denny. A last spurt landed them in a cave that bordered on the blue waters. What they did on that I could by no means persuade them to tell; but had I been there I should have thanked G.o.d and shaken hands; and thus, I dare say, did they. And besides that, they lay there, dog-tired and beaten, for an hour or more, in one of those despondent fits that a.s.sail even brave men, making sure that I was dead or taken, and that their own chances of escape were small, and, since I was dead or taken, hardly worth the seeking.

They were roused by an old man, who suddenly entered the cave, bearing a bundle of sticks in his arms. At sight of them he dropped his load and turned to fly; but they were on him in an instant, seizing him and crying to know who he was. He had as many questions for them; and when he learned who they were and how they had come, he raised his hands in wonder, and told Hogvardt, who alone could make him understand, that their fears were well grounded. He had met a Neopalian but an hour since, and the talk in all the island was of how the stranger had killed Vlacho and been taken by Kortes, and would die on the next day; for this was the early morning of the feast-day. Denny was for a dash; but a dash meant certain death. Watkins was ready for the venture, though the poor fellow could hardly crawl. Hogvardt held firm to the chance that more cautious measures gave. The old man's comrades were away at their fishing-grounds, ten miles out at sea; but he had a boat down on the beach. Thither they went, and set out under the fisherman's guidance, pulling in desperate perseverance, with numb weary limbs, under the increasing heat of the sun. But their wills asked too much of their bodies. Watkins dropped his oar with a groan; Denny's moved weakly and uselessly through the water that hardly stirred under its blade; Hogvardt at last flung himself into the stern with one groan of despair. The old fisherman cast resigned eyes up to heaven, and the boat tossed motionlessly on the water. Thus they lay while I fought my duel with Constantine Stefanopoulos on the other side of Neopalia.

Then, while they were still four miles from the fishing-fleet, where lay their only known chance of succour for me or for themselves, there came suddenly to their incredulous eyes a shape on the sea and a column of smoke. Denny's spring forward went near to capsizing the boat. Oars were seized again, weariness fled before hope, the gunboat came in view, growing clear and definite. She moved quickly towards them, they slowly, yet eagerly, to her; the interval grew less and less. They shouted before they could be heard, and shouted still in needless caution long after they had been heard. A boat put out to them: they were taken on board, their story heard with shrugs of wonder. Mouraki could not be seen. 'I'll see him!' cried Denny, and Hogvardt plied the recalcitrant officer with smooth entreaties. The life of a man was at stake! But he could not be seen. The life of an Englishman! His Excellency slept through the heat of the day. The life of an English lord! His Excellency would be angry, but--! The contents of Denny's pocket, wild boasts of my power and position (I was a favourite at Court, and so forth), at last clinched the matter. His Excellency should be roused; heaven knew what he would say, but he should be roused. He went to Neopalia next week; now he was sailing past it, to inspect another island; perhaps he would alter the order of his voyage. He was fond of Englishmen. It was a great lord, was it not? So, at last, when Hogvardt was at his tongue's end, and Denny almost mad with rage, Mouraki was roused. He heard their story, and pondered on it, with leisurely strokings of his beard and keen long glances of his sharp eyes. At last came the word, 'To the island then!' and a cheer from the three, which Mouraki suffered with patient uplifted brows. Thus came Mouraki to Neopalia; thus came, as I hoped, an end to our troubles.

More than the half-hour which the Governor had given me pa.s.sed swiftly in the narrative; then came Mouraki's summons and my story to him, heard with courteous impa.s.sivity, received at its end with plentiful a.s.surances of redress for me and punishment for the islanders.

'The island shall be restored to you,' said he. 'You shall have every compensation, Lord Wheatley. These Neopalians shall learn their lesson.'

'I want nothing but justice on Constantine,' said I. 'The island I have given back.'

'That goes for nothing,' said he. 'It was under compulsion: we shall not acknowledge it. The island is certainly yours. Your t.i.tle has been recognised: you could not transfer it without the consent of my Government.'

I did not pursue the argument. If Mouraki chose to hand the island back to me, I supposed that I could, after such more or less tedious forms as were necessary, restore it to Phroso. For the present the matter was of small moment; for Mouraki was there with his men, and the power of the Lord--or Lady--of Neopalia in abeyance. The island was at the feet of the Governor.

Indeed such was its att.i.tude, and great was the change in the islanders when, in the cool of the evening, I walked up the street by Mouraki's side escorted by soldiers and protected by the great gun of the gunboat commanding the town. There were many women to watch us, few men, and these unarmed, with downcast eyes and studious meekness of bearing. Mouraki seemed to detect my surprise.

'They made a disturbance here three years ago,' said he, 'and I came.

They have not forgotten.'

'What did you do to them?' I made bold to ask.

'What was necessary,' he said; and--'They are not Armenians,' added the Armenian Governor with a smile which meant much; among other things, as I took it, that no tiresome English demanded fair trial for riotous Neopalians.

'And Constantine?' said I. I hope that I was not too vindictive.

'It is the feast of St Tryphon,' said his Excellency, with another smile.

We were pa.s.sing the guardhouse now. An officer and five men fell out from the ranks of our escort and took their stand by its doors. We pa.s.sed on, leaving Constantine in this safe keeping; and Mouraki, turning to me, said, 'I must ask you for hospitality. As Lord of the island, you enjoy the right of entertaining me.'

I bowed. We turned into the road that led to the old grey house; when we were a couple of hundred yards from it, I saw Phroso coming out of the door. She walked rapidly towards us, and paused a few paces from the Governor, making a deep obeisance to him and bidding him welcome to her poor house in stately phrases of deference and loyalty. Mouraki was silent, surveying her with a slight smile. She grew confused under his wordless smiling; her greetings died away. At last he spoke, in slow deliberate tones:

'Is this the lady,' said he, 'who raises a tumult and resists my master's will, and seeks to kill a lord who comes peaceably and by lawful right to take what is his?'

I believe I made a motion as though to spring forward. Mouraki's expressive face displayed a marvelling question; did I mean such insolence as lay in interrupting him? I fell back; a public remonstrance could earn only a public rebuff.

'Strange are the ways of Neopalia,' said he, his gaze again on Phroso.

'I am at your mercy, my lord,' she murmured.

'And what is this talk of your house? What house have you? I see here the house of this English lord, where he will receive me courteously.

Where is your house?'

'The house belongs to whom you will, my lord,' she said. 'Yet I have dared to busy myself in making it ready for you.'

By this time I was nearly at boiling point, but still I controlled myself. I rejoiced that Denny was not there, he and the others having resumed possession of the yacht, and arranged to sleep there, in order to leave more room for Mouraki's accommodation. Phroso stood in patient submission; Mouraki's eyes travelled over her from head to foot.

'The other woman?' he asked abruptly. 'Your cousin's wife--where is she?'

'She is at the cottage on the hill, my lord, with a woman to attend on her.'

After another pause he motioned with his hand to Phroso to take her place by him, and thus we three walked up to the house. It was alive now with women and men, and there was a bustle of preparation for the great man.

Mouraki sat down in the armchair which I had been accustomed to use, and, addressing an officer who seemed to be his _aide-de-camp_, issued quick orders for his own comfort and entertainment; then he turned to me and said civilly enough:

'Since you seem reluctant to act as host, you shall be my guest while I am here.'

I murmured thanks. He glanced at Phroso and waved his hand in dismissal. She drew back, curtseying, and I saw her mount the stairs to her room. Mouraki bade me sit down, and his orderly brought him cigarettes. He gave me one and we began to smoke, Mouraki watching the coiling rings, I furtively studying his face. I was in a rage at his treatment of Phroso. But the man interested me. I thought that he was now considering great matters: the life of Constantine, perhaps, or the penalties that he should lay on the people of Neopalia. Yet even these would seem hardly great to him, who had moved in the world of truly great affairs, and was in his present post rather by a temporary loss of favour than because it was adequate to his known abilities.

With such thoughts I studied him as he sat smoking silently.

Well, man is very human, and great men are often even more human than other men. For when Mouraki saw that we were alone, when he had finished his cigarette, flung it away and taken another, he observed to me, obviously summarising the result of those meditations to which my fancy had imparted such loftiness:

'Yes, I don't know that I ever saw a handsomer girl.'