CHAPTER IX

HATS OFF TO ST TRYPHON!

A man's mind can move on more than one line; even the most engrossing selfish care may fail entirely to occupy it or to shut out intruding rivals. Not only should I have been wise, but I should have chosen, in that risky walk of mine through the wood that covered the hill-slope, to think of nothing but its risk. Yet countless other things exacted a share of my thoughts and figured amongst my brain's images. Sometimes I was with Denny and his faithful followers, threading dark and devious ways in the bowels of the earth, avoiding deep waters on the one side, sheer falls on the other, losing the track, finding it again, deluded by deceptive glimmers of light, finding at last the true outlet; now received hospitably by the Cypriote fishermen, now fiercely a.s.sailed by them, again finding none of them; now making allies of them, now carried prisoners by them to Constantine, again scouring the sea with vain eagerness for a sight of their sails. Then I was off, far away, to England, to my friends there, to the gaiety of London now in its full rushing tide, to Mrs Hipgrave's exclusive receptions, to Beatrice's gay talk and pretty insolence, to Hamlyn's gilded dulness, in rapid survey of all the panorama that I knew so well. Then I would turn back to the scene I had left, and again bid my farewell under the quiet sky, in prospect of the sea that turned to gold. So I pa.s.sed back and forward till I seemed myself hardly a thinking man, but rather a piece of blank gla.s.s, across which the myriad mites of the kaleidoscope chased one another, covering it with varying colours, but none of them imparting their hue to it. Yet all this time, by the strange division of mental activity of which I have spoken, I was crawling cautiously but quickly up the mountain side, with eyes keen to pierce the dusk that now fell, with ears apt to find an enemy in every rustling leaf and a hostile step in every woodland sound. Of real foes I had as yet seen none. Ah! Hush! I dropped on my knees. Away there on the right--what was it leaning against that tree-trunk? It was a tall lean man; his arms rested on a long gun, and his face was towards the old grey house. Would he see me? I crouched lower. Would he hear me? I was as still as dead Spiro had lain in the pa.s.sage. But then I felt stealthily for the b.u.t.t of my revolver, and a recollection so startling came to me that I nearly betrayed myself by some sudden movement. In the distribution of burdens for our proposed journey, Denny had taken the case containing the spare cartridges which remained after we had all reloaded. Now I had one barrel only loaded, one shot only left. That one shot and Hogvardt's lance were all my resources. I crouched yet lower. But the man was motionless, and presently I ventured to move on my hands and knees, sorely inconvenienced by the long lance, but determined not to leave it behind me. I pa.s.sed another sentry a hundred yards or so away on the left; his head was sunk on his breast and he took no notice of me.

I breathed a little more freely as I came within fifty feet of the cottage.

Immediately about the house n.o.body was in sight. This however, in Neopalia, did not always mean that n.o.body was near, and I abated none of my caution. But the last step had to be taken; I crawled out from the shelter of the trees, and crouched on one knee on the level s.p.a.ce in front of the cottage. The cottage door was open. I listened but heard nothing. Well, I meant to go in; my entrance would be none the easier for waiting. A quick dart was safest; in a couple of bounds I was across, in the verandah, through the entrance, in the house. I closed the door noiselessly behind me, and stood there, Hogvardt's lance ready for the first man I saw; but I saw none. I was in a narrow pa.s.sage; there were doors on either side of me. Listening again, I heard no sound from right or left. I opened the door to the right. I saw a small square room: the table was spread for a meal, three places being laid, but the room was empty. I turned to the other door and opened it. This room was darker, for heavy curtains, drawn, no doubt, earlier in the day to keep out the sun, had not been drawn back, and the light was very dim. For a while I could make out little, but, my eyes growing more accustomed to the darkness, I soon perceived that I was in a sitting-room, spa.r.s.ely and rather meanly furnished. Then my eyes fell on a couch which stood against the wall opposite me. On the couch lay a figure. It was the figure of a woman. I heard now the slight but regular sound of her breath. She was asleep. This must be the woman I sought. But was she a sensible woman? Or would she scream when I waked her, and bring those tall fellows out of the wood? In hesitation I stood still and watched her. She slept like one who was weary, but not at peace: restless movements and, now and again, broken incoherent exclamations witnessed to her disquiet. Presently her broken sleep pa.s.sed into half-wakeful consciousness, and she sat up, looking round her with a dazed glance.

'Is that you, Constantine?' she asked, rubbing her hands across her eyes. 'Or is it Vlacho?'

With a swift step I was by her.

'Neither. Not a word!' I said, laying my hand on her shoulder.

I was, I daresay, an alarming figure, with the b.u.t.t of my revolver peeping out of my pocket and Hogvardt's lance in my right hand. But she did not cry out.

'I am Wheatley. I have escaped from the house there,' I went on; 'and I have come here because there's something I must tell you. You remember our last meeting?'

She looked at me still in amazed surprise, but with a gleam of recollection.

'Yes, yes. You were--we went to watch you--yes, at the restaurant.'

'You went to watch and to listen? Yes, I supposed so. But I've been near you since then. Do you remember the man who was on your verandah?'

'That was you?' she asked quickly.

'Yes, it was. And while I was there I heard--'

'But what are you doing here? This house is watched. Constantine may be here any moment, or Vlacho.'

'I'm as safe here as I was down the hill. Now listen. Are you this man's wife, as he called you that night?'

'Am I his wife? Of course I'm his wife. How else should I be here?'

The indignation expressed in her answer was the best guarantee of its truth, and became her well. And she held her hand up to me, as she had to the man himself in the restaurant, adding, 'There is his ring.'

'Then listen to me, and don't interrupt,' said I brusquely. 'Time's valuable to me, and even more, I fear, to you.'

Her eyes were alarmed now, but she listened in silence as I bade her.

I told her briefly what had happened to me, and then I set before her more fully the conversation between Constantine and Vlacho which I had overheard. She clutched the cushions of the sofa in her clenched hand; her breathing came quick and fast; her eyes gleamed at me even in the gloom of the curtained room. I do not believe that in her heart she was surprised at what she heard. She had mistrusted the man; her manner, even on our first encounter, had gone far to prove that. She received my story rather as a confirmation of her own suspicions than as a new or startling revelation. She was fearful, excited, strung to a high pitch; but astonished she was not, if I read her right. And when I ended, it was not astonishment that clenched her lips and brought to her eyes a look which I think Constantine himself would have shrunk from meeting. I had paused at the end of my narrative, but I recollected one thing more. I must warn her about the secret pa.s.sage; for that offered her husband too ready and easy a way of relieving himself of his burden. But now she interrupted me.

'This girl?' she said. 'I have not seen her. What is she like?'

'She is very beautiful,' said I simply. 'She knows what I have told you, and she is on her guard. You need fear nothing from her. It is your husband whom you have to fear.'

'He would kill me?' she asked, with a questioning glance.

'You've heard what he said,' I returned. 'Put your own meaning on it.'

She sprang to her feet.

'I can't stay here; I can't stay here. Merciful heaven, they may come any moment! Where are you going? How are you going to escape? You are in as much danger as I am.'

'I believe in even greater,' said I. 'I was going straight from here down to the sea. If I can find my friends, we'll go through with the thing together. If I don't find them, I shall hunt for a boat. If I don't find a boat--well, I'm a good swimmer, and I shall live as long in the water as in Neopalia, and die easier, I fancy.'

She was standing now, facing me, and she laid her hand on my arm.

'You stand by women, you Englishmen,' she said. 'You won't leave me to be murdered?'

'You see I am here. Doesn't that answer your question?'

'My G.o.d, he's a fiend! Will you take me with you?'

What could I do? Her coming gave little chance to her and robbed me of almost all prospect of escape. But of course I could not leave her.

'You must come if you can see no other way,' said I.

'Why, what other is there? If I avoid him he will see I suspect him.

If I appear to trust him, I must put myself in his power.'

'Then we must go,' said I. 'But it's a thousand to one that we don't get through.'

I had hardly spoken when a voice outside said, 'Is all well?' and a heavy step echoed in the verandah.

'Vlacho!' she hissed in a whisper. 'Vlacho! Are you armed?'

'In a way,' said I, with a shrug. 'But there are at least two besides him. I saw them in the wood.'

'Yes, yes, true. There are four generally. It would be death. Here, hide behind the curtains. I'll try to put him off for the moment.

Quick, quick!'

She was hurried and eager, but I saw that her wits were clear. I stepped behind the curtains and she drew them close. I heard her fling herself again on the couch. Then came the innkeeper's voice, its roughness softened in deferential greeting.

At the same time a strong smell of eau de Cologne pervaded the room.

'Am I well?' said Madame Stefanopoulos fretfully. 'My good Vlacho, I am very ill. Should I sit in a dark room and bathe my head with this stuff if I were well?'

'My lady's sickness grieves me beyond expression,' said Vlacho politely. 'And the more so because I am come from my Lord Constantine with a message for you.'

'It is easier for him to send messages than to come himself,' she remarked, with an admirable pretence of resentment.

'Think how occupied he has been with this pestilent Englishman!' said the plausible Vlacho. 'We have had no peace. But at last I hope our troubles are over. The house is ours again.'

'Ah, you have driven them out?'

'They fled themselves,' said Vlacho. 'But they are separated and we shall catch them. Oh, yes, we know where to look for most of them.'