'In the name of Almighty G.o.d, as you hope for mercy; in the name of our Lord the Saviour, as you pray for pity; in the name of the Most Blessed Spirit, whose Word is Truth; by the Most Holy Virgin, and by our Holy Saint--' began the old man. But Demetri cried hoa.r.s.ely:

'Take it away, take it away. I will not swear.'

'Let him swear,' said Phroso, and this time the whole throng caught up her command and echoed it in fierce urgency.

'Let him swear to tell the whole truth of what he knows, hiding nothing, according to the terms of the oath,' said the priest, pursuing his ritual.

'He shall not swear,' cried Constantine, springing up. But he spoke to deaf ears and won only looks of new-born suspicion.

'It is the custom of the island,' they growled. 'It has been done in Neopalia time out of mind.'

'Yes,' said the priest. 'Time out of mind has a man been free to ask this oath of whomsoever he suspected. Swear, Demetri, as our Lady and our law bid.' And he ended the words of the oath.

Demetri looked round to right, to left, and to right again. He sought escape. There was none; his way was barred. His arms fell by his side.

'Will you let me go unharmed if I speak the truth?' he asked sullenly.

'Yes,' answered Phroso, 'if you speak the whole truth, you shall go unhurt.'

The excitement was intense now; for Demetri took the oath, Constantine watching, with pale strained face. Then followed a moment's utter silence, broken an instant later by an irresistible outbreak of wondering cries, for Demetri said, 'Follow me,' and turned and began to walk in the direction of the town. 'Follow me,' he said again. 'I will tell the truth. I have served my lord well, but a man's soul is his own. No master buys a man's soul. I will tell the truth.'

The change in feeling was witnessed by what happened. At a sign from the priest Kortes and another each took one of Constantine's arms and raised him. He was trembling now and hardly able to set one foot before the other. The dogs of justice were hard on his heels, and he was a craven at heart. Thus bearing him with us, in procession we followed Demetri from the place of a.s.sembly back to the steep narrow street that ran up from the sea. On the way none spoke. In the middle I walked; and in front of me went Phroso, the woman who had come to comfort her still holding her arm in hers.

On Demetri led us with quick decisive steps; but when he came to the door of the inn which had belonged to that Vlacho whose body lay now deserted on the level gra.s.s above the seash.o.r.e, he halted abruptly, then turned and entered. We followed, Constantine's supporters bringing him also with us. We pa.s.sed through the large lower room and out of the house again into an enclosed yard, bounded on the seaward side by a low stone wall, towards which the ground sloped rapidly.

Here Demetri stopped.

'By my oath,' said he, 'and as G.o.d hears me! I knew not who this woman was; but last night Vlacho bade me come with him to the cottage on the hill, and, if he called me, I was to come and help him to carry her to the house of my Lord Constantine. He called, and I, coming with Kortes, found Vlacho dead. Kortes would not suffer me to touch the lady, but bade me stay with Vlacho. But when Kortes was gone and Vlacho dead, I ran and told my lord what had happened. My lord was greatly disturbed and bade me come with him; so we came together to the town and pa.s.sed together by the guardhouse.'

'Lies, foul lies,' cried Constantine; but they bade him be quiet, and Demetri continued in a composed voice:

'There Kortes watched. My lord asked him whom he held prisoner; and when he heard that it was the Englishman, he sought to prevail on Kortes to deliver him up; but Kortes would not without the command of the Lady Euphrosyne. Then my lord said, "Have you no other prisoner, Kortes?" Kortes answered, "There is a woman here whom we found in the cottage; but you gave me no orders concerning her, my lord, neither you, nor the Lady of the island." "I care nothing about her," said my lord with a shrug of his shoulders, and he and I turned away and walked some paces up the street. Then, at my lord's bidding, I crouched down with him in the shadow of a house and waited. Presently, when the clock had struck two, we saw Kortes come out from the guardhouse; and the woman was with him. Now we were but fifty feet from them, and the wind was blowing from them to us, and I heard what the lady said.'

'It happened as he says,' interrupted Kortes in a grave tone. 'I promised secrecy, but I will speak now.'

'"I must go to the Lady Euphrosyne," said she to Kortes,' continued Demetri. '"I have something to say to her." Kortes answered, "She is lodging at the house of the priest. It is the tenth house on the left hand as you mount the hill." She thanked him, and he turned back into the guardhouse, and we saw no more of him. The lady came slowly and fearfully up the road; my lord beside me laughed gently, and twisted a silk scarf in his hand; there was n.o.body in the street except my lord, the lady and me; and as she went by my lord sprang out on her, and twisted the scarf across her mouth before she could cry out. Then he and I lifted her, and carried her swiftly down the street. We came here, to Vlacho's inn; the door was open, for Vlacho had gone out; it had not yet become known that he would never return. We carried her swiftly through the house and brought her where we stand now, and laid her on the ground. My lord tied her hands and her feet, so that she lay still; her mouth was already gagged. Then my lord drew me aside and took five pieces of gold from his purse and said, looking into my eyes, "Is it enough?" I understood, and said, "It is enough, my lord,"

and he pressed my hand and left me, without going again near the woman. And I, having put the five pieces in my purse, drew my knife from its sheath and came and stood over the woman, looking how I might best strike the blow. She was gagged and tied and lay motionless. But the night was bright, and I saw her eyes fixed on mine. I stood long by her with my knife in my hand; then I knelt down by her to strike.

But her eyes burned into my heart, and suddenly I seemed to hear Satan by my side, chuckling and whispering, "Strike, Demetri, strike! Art thou not d.a.m.ned already? Strike!" And I did not dare to look to the right or the left, for I felt the Fiend by me. So I shut my eyes and grasped my knife; but the lady's eyes drew mine open again, although I struggled to keep them shut. Now many devils seemed to be round me; and they were gleeful, saying, "Oh, he is ours! Yes, Demetri is ours.

He will do this thing and then surely he is ours!" Suddenly I sobbed; and when my sob came, a gleam lighted the lady's eyes. Her eyes looked like the eyes of the Blessed Virgin in the church; I could not strike her. I flung down my knife and fell to sobbing. As I sobbed the noise of the devils ceased; and I seemed to hear instead a voice from above that said to me very softly, "Have I died to keep thy soul alive, and thou thyself wouldst kill it, Demetri?" I know not if any one spoke; but the night was very still, and I was afraid, and I cried low, "Alas, I am a sinner!" But the voice said, "Sin no more;" and the eyes of the lady implored me. But then they closed, and I saw that she had fainted. And I raised her gently in my arms and carried her across this piece of ground where we stand.'

He ended, and stood for a moment silent and motionless. None of us spoke.

'I took her,' said he, 'there, where the wall ends; for I knew that Vlacho had his larder there. The door of the larder was locked, but I set the lady down and returned and took my knife from the ground, and I forced the lock and took her in, and laid her on the floor of the larder. Then I returned to the house, and called to Panayiota, Vlacho's daughter, with whom I am of kin. When she came I charged her to watch the lady till I returned, saying that Vlacho had bidden me bring her here; for I meant to return in a few hours and carry the lady to some place of safety, if I could find one. Panayiota, fearing Vlacho and having an affection for me, promised faithfully to keep the lady safe. Then I ran after my lord, and found him at the house, and told him that the deed was done, and that I had hidden the body here; and I craved leave to return and make a grave for the body or carry it to the sea. But he said, "It will be soon enough in the evening. We shall be quit of troubles by the evening. Does any one know?" I answered rashly, "Panayiota knows." And he was enraged, fearing Panayiota would betray us; but when he heard that she and I were lovers, he was appeased; yet I could not find means to leave him and return to the lady.'

Demetri ended. Phroso, without a look at any one of us, stepped lightly to the spot he had described. There was a low hut there, with a stout wooden door. Phroso knocked on it, but there came no answer.

She beckoned to Kortes, and he, coming, wrenched open the door, which seemed to have been fastened by some makeshift arrangement. Kortes disappeared for an instant; then he came out again and motioned with his hand. We crowded round the door, I among the first. There, indeed, was a strange sight. For on the floor, propped against the side of the hut, sat a buxom girl; her eyes were closed, her lips parted, and she breathed in heavy regular breaths; Panayiota had watched faithfully all night, and now slept at her post. Yet her trust was not betrayed.

On her lap rested the head of the lady whom Demetri had not found it in his heart to kill; the bonds with which she had been bound lay on the floor by her; and she also, pale and with shadowed rings about her eyes, slept the sleep of utter exhaustion and weariness. We stood looking at the strange sight--a sudden gleam of peace and homely kindness breaking across the dark cloud of angry pa.s.sions.

'Hush,' said Phroso very softly. She stepped forward and fell on her knees by the sleeping woman, and she lightly kissed Constantine's wife on the brow. 'Praise be to G.o.d!' said Phroso softly, and kissed her again.

CHAPTER XII

LAW AND ORDER

At last the whirligig seemed to have taken a turn in my favour, the revolutions of the wheel at last to have brought my fortune uppermost.

For the sight of Francesca in Panayiota's arms came pat in confirmation of the story wrung from Demetri by the power of his oath, and his 'Behold!' was not needed to ensure acceptance for his testimony. From women rose compa.s.sionate murmurs, from men angry growlings which expressed, while they strove to hide, the shamefaced emotions that the helpless woman's narrow escape created. Her salvation must bring mine with it; for it was the ruin of her husband and my enemy.

Kortes and another dragged Constantine Stefanopoulos forward till he stood within two or three yards of his wife. None interposed on his behalf or resented the rough pressure of Kortes's compelling hand. And even as he was set there, opposite the women, they, roused by the subdued stir of the excited throng, awoke. First into one another's eyes, then round upon us, came their startled glances; then Francesca leapt with a cry to her feet, ran to me, and threw herself on her knees before me, crying, 'You'll save me, my lord, you'll save me?'

Demetri hung his head in sullen half-contrition mingled with an unmistakable satisfaction in his religious piety; Constantine bit and licked his thin lips, his fists tight clenched, his eyes darting furtively about in search of friends or in terror of avengers. And Phroso said in her soft clear tones:

'There is no more need of fear, for the truth is known.'

Her eyes, though they would not meet mine, rested long in tender sympathy on the woman who still knelt at my feet. Here indeed she remained till Phroso came forward and raised her, while the old priest lifted his voice in brief thanks to heaven for the revelation wrought under the sanction of the Holy Saint. For myself, I gave a long sigh of relief; the strain had been on me now for many hours, and it tires a man to be knocking all day long at the door of death. Yet almost in the instant that the concern for my own life left me (that is a thing terribly apt to fill a man's mind) my thoughts turned to other troubles: to my friends, who were--I knew not where; to Phroso, who had said--I scarcely knew what.

Suddenly, striking firm and loud across the murmurs and the threats that echoed round the ring in half-hushed voices, came Kortes's tones.

'And this man? What of him?' he asked, his hand on Constantine's shaking shoulder. 'For he has done all that the stranger declared of him: he has deceived our Lady Euphrosyne, he has sought to kill this lady here, we have it from his own mouth that he slew the old lord, though he knew well that the old lord had yielded.'

Constantine's wife turned swiftly to the speaker.

'Did he kill the old lord?' she asked. 'He told me that it was Spiro who struck him in the heat of the brawl.'

'Ay, Spiro or Vlacho, or whom you will,' said Kortes with a shrug.

'There was no poverty of lies in his mouth.'

But the old feeling was not dead, and one or two again murmured:

'The old lord sold the island.'

'Did he die for that?' cried Francesca scornfully; 'or was it not in truth I who brought him to death?'

There was a movement of surprised interest, and all bent their eyes on her.

'Yes,' she went on, 'I think I doomed him to that death when I went and told him my story, seeking his protection. Constantine found me with him, and heard him greet me as his nephew's wife, on the afternoon of the day that the deed was done. Can this man here deny it? Can he deny that the old lord was awaiting the return of the Lady Euphrosyne to tell her of the thing, when his mouth was shut for ever by the stroke?'

This disclosure, showing a new and vile motive for what Constantine had tried to play off as a pardonable excess of patriotism, robbed him of his last defenders. He seemed to recognise his plight; his eyes ceased to canva.s.s possible favour, and dropped to the ground in dull despair. There was not a man now to raise a voice or a hand for him; their anger at having been made his dupes and his tools sharpened the edge of their hatred. To me his wife's words caused no wonder, for I had from the first believed that some secret motive had nerved Constantine's arm, and that he had taken advantage of the islanders'

mad folly for his own purposes. What that motive was stood out now clear and obvious. It explained his act, and abundantly justified the distrust and fear of him which I had perceived in his wife's mind when first I talked with her on the hill. But she, having launched her fatal bolt, turned her eyes away again, and laying her hand in Phroso's stood silent.

Kortes, appearing to take the lead now by general consent--for Phroso made no sign--looked round on his fellow-countrymen, seeking to gather their decision from their faces. He found the guidance and agreement that he sought.

'We may not put any man to death on St Tryphon's day,' said he.

The sentence was easy to read, for all its indirectness. The islanders understood it, and approved in a deep stern murmur; the women followed it, and their faces grew pale and solemn. The criminal missed nothing of its implied doom and tottered under the strong hands that now rather supported than imprisoned him. 'Not on this day, but to-morrow at break of day.' The voice of the people had spoken by the mouth of Kortes, and none pleaded for mercy or delay.

'I will take him to the guardhouse and keep him,' said Kortes; and the old priest murmured low, 'G.o.d have mercy on him!' Then, with a swift dart, Phroso sprang towards Kortes; her hands were clasped, her eyes prayed him to seek some ground of mercy, some pretext for a lighter sentence. She said not a word, but everyone of us read her eloquent prayer. Kortes looked round again; the faces about him were touched with a tenderness that they had not worn before; but the tenderness was for the advocate, no part of it reached the criminal. Kortes shook his head gravely. Phroso turned to the woman who had comforted her before, and hid her face. Constantine, seeing the last hope gone, swayed and fell into the arms of the man who, with Kortes, held him, uttering a long low moan of fear and despair, terrible to listen to, even from lips guilty as his. Thus was Constantine Stefanopoulos tried for his life in the yard of Vlacho's inn in Neopalia. The trial ended, he was carried out into the street on his way to the prison, and we, one and all, in dead silence, followed. The yard was emptied, and the narrow street choked with the crowd which attended Kortes and his prisoner till the doors of the guardhouse closed on them.