'Yes?' said I. 'And at that moment--'

'The lord's hand on his shoulder,' she answered, 'which had rested lightly before, would grow heavy as lead and with a great sudden impulse the other would be hurled forward, and the lord would be alone again with the secret, and alone the holder of power in Neopalia.'

This was certainly a pretty secret of empire, and none the less although the empire it protected was but nine miles long and five broad. I took the lantern from Phroso's hand, saying, 'Let's have a look.'

I stepped a pace or two forward, prodding the ground with Hogvardt's lance before I moved my feet: and thus I came to the spot where the Stefanopoulos used with a sudden great impulse to propel his enemy down. For here the rocks, which hitherto had narrowly edged and confined the path, bayed out on either side. The path ran on, a flat rock track about a couple of feet wide, forming the top of an upstanding cliff; but on either side there was an interval of seven or eight feet between the path and the walls of rock, and the path was unfenced. Even had the Stefanopoulos held his hand and given no treacherous impulse, it would have needed a cool-headed man to walk that path by the dim glimmer of a torch. For, kneeling down and peering over the side, I saw before me, some seventy feet down as I judged, the dark gleam of water, and I heard the low moan of its wash.

And Phroso said:

'If the man escaped the sharp rocks he would fall into the water; and then, if he could not swim, he would sink at once; but if he could swim he would swim round, and round, and round, like a fish in a bowl, till he grew weary, unless he chanced to find the only opening; and if he found that and pa.s.sed through, he would come to a rapid, where the water runs swiftly, and he would be dashed on the rocks. Only by a miracle could he escape death by one or other of these ways. So I was told when I was of age to know the secret. And it is certain that no man who fell into the water has escaped alive, although their bodies came out.'

'Did Stefan's body come out?' I asked, peering at the dark water with a fascinated gaze.

'No, because they tied weights to it before they threw it down, and so with the head. Stefan is there at the bottom. Perhaps another Stefanopoulos is there also; for his body was never found. He was caught by the man he threw down, and the two fell together.'

'Well, I'm glad of it,' said I with emphasis, as I rose to my feet. 'I wish the same thing had always happened.'

'Then,' remarked Phroso with a smile, 'I should not be here to tell you about it.'

'Hum,' said I. 'At all events I wish it had generally happened. For a more villainous contrivance I never heard of in all my life. We English are not accustomed to this sort of thing.'

Phroso looked at me for a moment with a strange expression of eagerness, hesitation and fear. Then she suddenly put out her hand, and laid it on my arm.

'I will not go back to my cousin who has wronged me, if--if I may stay with you,' she said.

'If you may stay!' I exclaimed with a nervous laugh.

'But will you protect me? Will you stand by me? Will you swear not to leave me here alone on the island? If you will, I will tell you another thing--a thing that would certainly bring me death if it were known I had told.'

'Whether you tell me or whether you don't,' said I, 'I'll do what you ask.'

'Then you are not the first Englishman who has been here. Seventy years ago there came an Englishman here, a daring man, a lover of our people, and a friend of the great Byron. Orestes Stefanopoulos, who ruled here then, loved him very much, and brought him here, and showed him the path and the water under it. And he, the Englishman, came next day with a rope, and fixed the rope at the top, and let himself down.

Somehow, I do not know how, he came safe out to the sea, past the rocks and the rapids. But, alas, he boasted of it! Then, when the thing became known, all the family came to Orestes and asked him what he had done. And he said:

'"Sup with me this night, and I will tell you." For he saw that what he had done was known.

'So they all supped together, and Orestes told them what he had done, and how he did it for love of the Englishman. They said nothing, but looked sad; for they loved Orestes. But he did not wait for them to kill him, as they were bound to do; but he took a great flagon of wine, and poured into it the contents of a small flask. And his kindred said: "Well done, Lord Orestes!" And they all rose to their feet, and drank to him. And he drained the flagon to their good fortune, and went and lay down on his bed, and turned his face to the wall and died.'

I paid less attention to this new episode in the family history of the Stefanopouloi than it perhaps deserved: my thoughts were with the Englishman, not with his too generous friend. Yet the thing was handsomely done--on both sides handsomely done.

'If the Englishman got out!' I cried, gazing at Phroso's face.

'Yes, I mean that,' said she simply. 'But it must be dangerous.'

'It's not exactly safe where we are,' I said, smiling; 'and Constantine will be guarding the proper path. By Jove, we'll try it!'

'But I must come with you; for if you go that way and escape, Constantine will kill me.'

'You've just as good a right to kill Constantine.'

'Still he will kill me. You'll take me with you?'

'To be sure I will,' said I.

Now when a man pledges his word, he ought, to my thinking, to look straight and honestly in the eyes of the woman to whom he is promising. Yet I did not look into Phroso's eyes, but stared awkwardly over her head at the walls of rock. Then, without any more words, we turned back and went towards the secret door. But I stopped at Spiro's body, and said to Phroso:

'Will you send Denny to me?'

She went, and when Denny came we took Spiro's body and carried it to where the walls bayed, and we flung it down into the dark water below.

And I told Denny of the Englishman who had come alive through the perils of the hidden chasm. He listened with eager attention, nodding his head at every point of the story.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WE TOOK SPIRO'S BODY AND FLUNG IT DOWN.]

'There lies our road, Denny,' said I, pointing with my finger. 'We'll go along it to-night.'

Denny looked down, shook his head and smiled.

'And the girl?' he asked suddenly.

'She comes too,' said I.

We walked back together, Denny being unusually silent and serious. I thought that even his audacious courage was a little dashed by the sight and the a.s.sociations of that grim place, so I said:

'Cheer up. If that other fellow got through the rocks, we can.'

'Oh, hang the rocks!' said Denny scornfully. 'I wasn't thinking of them.'

'Then what are you so glum about?'

'I was wondering,' said Denny, freeing himself from my arm, 'how Beatrice Hipgrave would get on with Euphrosyne.'

I looked at Denny. I tried to feel angry, or even, if I failed in that, to appear angry. But it was no use. Denny was imperturbable. I took his arm again.

'Thanks, old man,' said I. 'I'll remember.'

For when I considered the very emphatic a.s.sertions which I had made to Denny before we left England, I could not honestly deny that he was justified in his little reminder.

CHAPTER VIII

A KNIFE AT A ROPE

Some modern thinkers, I believe--or perhaps, to be quite safe, I had better say some modern talkers--profess to estimate the value of life by reference to the number of distinct sensations which it enables them to experience. Judged by a similar standard, my island had been, up to the present time, a brilliant success; it was certainly fulfilling the function, which Mrs Kennett Hipgrave had appropriated to it, of whiling away the time that must elapse before my marriage with her daughter and providing occupation for my thoughts during this weary interval. The difficulty was that the island seemed disinclined to restrict itself to this modest sphere of usefulness; it threatened to monopolise me, and to leave very little of me or my friends, by the time that it had finished with us. For, although we maintained our cheerfulness, our position was not encouraging. Had matters been anything short of desperate above ground it would have been madness to plunge into that watery hole, whose egress was unknown to us, and to take such a step on the off-chance of finding at the other end the Cypriote fishermen, and of obtaining from them either an alliance, or, if that failed, the means of flight. Yet we none of us doubted that to take the plunge was the wiser course. I did not believe in the extreme peril of the pa.s.sage, for, on further questioning, Phroso told us that the Englishman had come through, not only alive and well, but also dry. Therefore there was a path, and along a path that one man can go four men can go; and Phroso, again attired, at my suggestion, in her serviceable boy's suit, was the equal of any of us. So we left considering whether, and fell to the more profitable work of asking how, to go. Hogvardt and Watkins went off at once to the point of departure, armed with a pick, a mallet, some stout pegs, and a long length of rope. All save the last were ready on the premises, and that last formed always part of Hogvardt's own equipment; he wore it round his waist, and, I believe, slept in it, like a mediaeval ascetic.

Meanwhile Denny and I kept watch, and Phroso, who seemed out of humour, disappeared into her own room.

Our idea was to reach the other end of the journey somewhere about eight or nine o'clock in the evening. Phroso told us that this hour was the most favourable for finding the fishermen; they would then be taking a meal before launching their boats for the fishing-grounds.