Phroso Part 35

'I have some power in Neopalia,' he reminded me, with a threatening gleam in his eye.

'No doubt, but the power has to be carefully exercised when British subjects are in question--men, if I may add so much, of some position.

I can't be considered an islander of Neopalia for all purposes, my dear Pasha.'

He seemed not to hear or not to heed what I said; but he both heard and heeded, or I mistook my man.

'I don't give up what I have resolved upon,' said he.

'You describe my own temper to a nicety,' said I. 'Now I have resolved to marry Phroso.'

'No,' said Mouraki. I greeted the word with a scornful shrug.

'You understand?' he continued. 'It shall not be.'

'We shall see,' said I.

'You don't know the risk you're running.'

'Come, come, isn't this rather near boasting?' I asked contemptuously.

'Your Excellency is a great man, no doubt, but you can't afford to carry out these dark designs against a man of my position.' Then I changed to a more friendly tone, saying, 'My dear Pasha, had you defeated me I should have taken it quietly. Won't you best consult your dignity by doing the same?'

A long silence followed. I watched his face. Very gradually his brow cleared, his lips relaxed into a smile. He, in his turn, shrugged his shoulders. He took a step towards me; he held out his hand.

'Wheatley,' said he, 'it is true, I am a fool. A man is a fool in such matters. You must make allowances for me. I was honestly in love with her. I thought myself safe from you. I allowed my temper to get the better of me. Will you shake hands?'

'Ah, now you're like yourself, my dear friend,' said I, grasping his hand.

'We'll speak again about it to-morrow. But my anger is over. Fear nothing. I will be reasonable.'

I murmured grateful thanks and appreciation of his generosity.

'Good-night, good-night,' said he. 'I wish I hadn't found you to-night. I should not have lost my composure like this at any other time. You're sure you forgive my hasty words?'

'From the bottom of my heart,' said I earnestly; and we pressed one another's hands. Mouraki pa.s.sed on to the stairs and began to mount them slowly. He turned his head over his shoulders and said:

'How will you settle with Miss Hipgrave?'

'I must beg her forgiveness, as I must yours,' said I.

'I hope you'll be equally successful,' said he, and his smile was in working order by now. It was the last I saw of him as he disappeared up the stairs.

'Now,' said I, sitting down, 'he's gone to think how he can get my throat cut without a scandal.'

In fact, Mouraki and I were beginning to understand one another.

CHAPTER XV

A STRANGE ESCAPE

Yes, Mouraki was dangerous, very dangerous: now that he had regained his self-control, most dangerous. His designs against me would be limited only by the bounds which I had taken the opportunity of recalling to his mind. I was a known man. I could not disappear without excuse. But the fever of the island might be at the disposal of the Governor no less than of Constantine Stefanopoulos. I must avoid the infection. I congratulated myself that the best antidote I had yet found--a revolver and cartridges--was again in my possession.

These, and open eyes, were the treatment for the sudden fatal disease that threatened inconvenient lives in Neopalia.

I thought that I had seen the Pasha safely and finally to bed when he left me in the hall after our interview. I myself had gone to bed almost immediately, and, tired out with the various emotions I had pa.s.sed through, had slept soundly. But now, looking back, I wonder whether the Governor spent much of the night on his back. I doubt it, very much I doubt it; nay, I incline to think that he had a very active night of goings to and fro, of strange meetings, of schemes and bargainings; and I fancy he had not been back in his room long before I rose for my morning walk. However of that I knew nothing at the time, and I met him at breakfast, prepared to resume our discussion as he had promised. But, behold, he was surrounded by officers. There was a stir in the hall. Orders were being given; romance and the affairs of love seemed forgotten.

'My dear lord,' cried Mouraki, turning towards me with every sign of discomposure and vexation on his face, 'I am terribly annoyed. These careless fellows of mine--alas, I am too good-natured and they presume on it!--have let your friend Constantine slip through their fingers.'

'Constantine escaped!' I exclaimed in genuine surprise and vexation.

'Alas, yes! The sentry fell asleep. It seems that the prisoner had friends, and they got him out by the window. The news came to me at dawn, and I have been having the island scoured for him; but he's not to be found, and we think he must have had a boat in readiness.'

'Have you looked in the cottage where his wife is?'

'The very first thought that struck me, my dear friend! Yes, it has been searched. In vain! It is now so closely guarded that n.o.body can get in. If he ventures there we shall have him to a certainty. But go on with your breakfast; we needn't spoil that for you. I have one or two more orders to give.'

In obedience to the Pasha I sat down and began my breakfast; but as I ate, while Mouraki conferred with his officers in a corner of the hall, I became very thoughtful concerning this escape of Constantine. Sentries do sleep--sometimes; zealous friends do open windows--sometimes; fugitives do find boats ready--sometimes. It was all possible: there was nothing even exactly improbable. Yet--yet--!

Whether Mouraki's account were the whole truth, or something lay below and unrevealed, at least I knew that the escape meant that another enemy, and a bitter one, was loosed against me. I had fought Constantine, I had touched Mouraki's shield in challenge the night before: was I to have them both against me? And would it be two against one, or, as boys say, all against all? If the former, the chances of my catching the fever were considerably increased; and somehow I had a presentiment that the former was nearer the truth than the latter. I had no real evidence. Mouraki's visible chagrin seemed to contradict my theory. But was not Mouraki's chagrin just a little too visible? It was such a very obvious, hearty, genuine, honest, uncontrollable chagrin; it demanded belief in itself the least bit too loudly.

The Pasha joined me over my cigarette. If Constantine were in the island, said the Pasha, with a blow of his fist on the table, he would be laid by the heels before evening came; not a mole--let alone a man--could escape the soldiers' search; not a bird could enter the cottage (he seemed to repeat this very often) un.o.bserved, nor escape from it without a bullet in its plumage. And when Constantine was caught he should pay for this defiance. For the Pasha had delayed the punishment of his crimes too long. This insolent escape was a proper penalty on the Pasha's weak remissness. The Pasha blamed himself very much. His honour was directly engaged in the recapture; he would not sleep till it was accomplished. In a word, the Pasha's zeal beggared comparison and outran adequate description. It filled his mind; it drove out last night's topic. He waved that trifle away; it must wait, for now there was business afoot. It could be discussed only when Constantine was once more a prisoner in the hands of justice, a suppliant for the mercy of the Governor.

I escaped at length from the torrent of sincerity with which Mouraki insisted on deluging me, and went into the open air. There were no signs of Phroso. Kortes was not to be seen either. I saw the yacht in the harbour, and thought of strolling down; but Denny had, no doubt, heard the great news, and I was reluctant to be out of the way, even for an hour. Events came quick in Neopalia. People appeared and disappeared in no time, escaped and--were not recaptured. But I told myself that I would send a message to the yacht soon; for I wanted Denny and the others to know what I--what I was strangely inclined to suspect regarding this occurrence.

The storm which had swept over the island the evening before was gone.

It was a bright hot day; the waves danced blue in the sun, while a light breeze blew from off the side of the land on which the house stood and was carrying fishing-boats merrily out of the harbour. If Constantine had found a boat, the wind was fair to carry him away to safety. But had he? I glanced up at the cottage in the woods above me.

A thought struck me. I could run up there and down again in a few moments.

I made my way quickly back to the house and into the compound behind.

Here, to my delight, I found Kortes. A word shewed me that he had heard the news. Phroso also had heard it. It was known to every one.

'I'm going to see if I can get a look into the cottage,' said I.

'I'm told it is guarded, my lord.'

'Kortes, speak plainly. What do you say about this affair?'

'I don't know; I don't know what to think. If they won't let you in--'

'Yes, I meant that. How is she, Kortes?'

'Well, my sister says. I haven't seen her. Run no risks, my lord. She has only you and me.'

'And my friends. I'm going to send them word to be on the look-out for any summons from me.'

'Then send it at once,' he counselled. 'You may delay, Mouraki will not.'