BEFORE THE PARTHENON.
“There it is, boys—there it is!” exclaimed Professor Zenas Gunn, in a
voice that actually choked with deep emotion. “Behold ‘the casket of the
rarest architectural jewels of the world—the temple-crowned Acropolis’!”
“She seems to be a right big old rock,” observed Brad Buckhart; “or is
she just a hill?”
“Both a rock and a hill, Brad,” laughed Dick Merriwell. “It is mainly a
natural mass of rock, but in places it has been built up by substantial
masonry.”
“Correct, Richard,” nodded the professor, approvingly. “It is plain you
have posted up on the Acropolis and that you remember something of what
you read. I regret that, in spite of my advice, Bradley seems much
disinclined to post himself in advance concerning the historical spots
we choose to visit.”
“What’s the use?” said the Texan. “I know you’ll tell us all about them,
professor, and I’ll remember it a heap better by hearing you tell it,
than by reading it in a dry, old book. You have such a fascinating way
of telling things, you know, that any one who hears you can’t help
remembering every word you speak.”
“Hum! ha!” coughed Zenas, much flattered. “I presume that is true. I
think it quite probable you are correct. Under the circumstances,
Bradley, you are excusable.”
The two boys and the professor had arrived at the port of Athens near
sundown the previous day. The sail through Grecian waters on a fine
steamer was one long to be remembered. Repeatedly the professor reminded
them that they were traversing the scenes of famous maritime adventures
and struggles of ancient history, and that every shore they beheld had
been made famous by poets, philosophers and wise men of the days when
Greece was the pride, the glory, and the envy of the world.
Night had fallen before the trio reached the capital, which is located
six miles from the port. Therefore, being tired and somewhat spiritless,
they suppressed their desire to look around and waited for the following
day.
And now, beneath the bright morning sunshine, they viewed the Acropolis,
which, on account of its history, the professor declared was the most
wonderful sight in all the world.
On three sides this great mass of rock and masonry, which looms above
the modern city at its base, is practically perpendicular. On its summit
stand the white columns and pillars of its ruined temples, which two
thousand years ago were perfect in their grandeur and which are conceded
to have been specimens of architectual beauty never equaled in modern
times.
“Think,” said the professor; “think of Greece in the glorious days when
yonder rock was crowned with beautiful temples! We’ll mount to its
crest, boys, and soon our feet may touch the very stones once pressed by
the feet of Demosthenes. We will stand beside pillars whose shadows may
have fallen on Pericles and Phidias. Is it not enough to stir a heart of
stone! Let us hasten.”
The old pedagogue was actually trembling with eagerness and excitement.
“All right, professor,” said Dick. “Lead on and we’ll follow.”
“Yes,” said Brad, “hike as fast as you choose, and we’ll keep up with
you.”
To their surprise they found the city very modern in appearance, and
this surprise was increased on beholding a train of street cars drawn by
an ordinary steam engine. Still the people were interesting in their
native garments, and the language was what they had expected to hear.
At last they approached the Acropolis. As they drew near they beheld
around its base a mass of ruins of the most picturesque character.
“Whatever sort of buildings were those, professor?” inquired the Texan.
“They were theatres,” answered the old man. “The theatre of Bacchus, of
Odeon, and others stood at the base of the great rock. You behold the
ruins of those theatres. Somewhere in this vicinity is the dungeon of
Socrates, in which he drank the hemlock. We’ll find it ere we leave
Athens.”
They were compelled to make inquiry of a peasant before they found the
only path by which the great rock could be ascended. The professor found
it necessary to rest several times before the summit was reached, but
still his enthusiasm buoyed him up in a wonderful manner.
As they reached the plateau the professor turned to look back on the
city spread below them.
“Yes,” he said, nodding and speaking as if addressing himself, “I had
almost forgotten. Why, it was only a little more than half a century ago
that Athens was demolished by the Turks. Hardly a house in the place was
left in condition for human beings to inhabit it. That is why we see
this modern city here.”
Although they did not betray it as much as did the professor, both lads
were profoundly moved by their situation.
For a few moments Dick seemed to feel himself transported back to
Fardale, and he saw himself in his little room poring over Homer’s
electrifying verse or deep buried in Xenophon’s incomparable prose. He
knew that from this hour, as he stood by the pillared gateway of the
Acropolis, he would understand the old Greek poets and philosophers
better and appreciate them more.
“Come, boys,” said Professor Gunn, in a hushed tone, “we’ll pass through
this ruined gateway, which was called the Propylæa, and which cost two
and a half million dollars. Think of that! Think of it, and then behold
these ruins. Touch them reverently with your hands. You are treading on
sacred ground.”
When they had passed beyond the ruined gateway all halted in wonderment,
for before them spread the entire plateau and they saw it was literally
bestrewn with fallen columns and shattered statues. And directly before
them, at the highest point of the plateau, rose the ruins of a snowy
white temple, the Parthenon.
The spectacle was one to render them silent and speechless. They stood
quite still and gazed in awe at the ruins.
At last Zenas spoke. He had his hat in his hand, and he mopped his
forehead with a handkerchief, although the day was cool.
“Words fail me, boys,” he said. “I wonder if you understand what it is
to behold this spectacle. Look on this scene of desolation wrought by
the hand of ruthless man. It is quite enough to make the gods weep!”
“However was she ruined, professor?” inquired Brad.
“It occurred something like two hundred years ago. At that time the
Parthenon stood almost unchanged in its matchless magnificence. The
Turks used it as a powder magazine. The city was besieged by an army of
Venetians. They bombarded the town. One of their shells exploded in the
powder magazine. Behold the result!”
“Say, that was a whole lot bad!” exclaimed the Texan. “It sure was a
shame!”
“Let’s get nearer,” urged Dick.
They threaded their way amid the ruined columns and statues, drawing
nearer to the ruins of the Parthenon. The professor told them how the
Parthenon had been despoiled of its treasures.
At that moment they seemed to be quite alone on the plateau of the
Acropolis, but suddenly, from amid the pillars of the temple, dashed a
Grecian girl, who did not seem to be more than sixteen years of age. She
saw them and uttered a cry.
A moment later two men appeared in close pursuit of her. Both were
Greeks. One was a man of forty-five or a little more, while the other
could not have been much past twenty-one. They shouted for the girl to
stop.
She ran toward the boys and the old professor, and the cry that came
from her lips was one of terror and appeal. Her pursuers were close on
her heels.
“By the great horn spoon!” shouted Buckhart, “here is where we mingle in
a red-hot old scrimmage, pard! There will be something doing on the top
of the Acrop in a moment!”
“Boys, boys, boys!” exclaimed the professor, in great agitation and
alarm. “Do be careful! Those men look dangerous!”
“Would you have us see a woman in distress without showing our manhood?”
demanded Dick, as he also prepared for an encounter. “We’ll protect her,
Brad.”
“Now you’re shouting!” cried the Texan. “We’ll certain check the
careless behavior of those gents some.”
“Englishmen—good Englishmen!” cried the girl; “save me!”
She was panting and wild-eyed as she reached them. She seized Dick’s arm
with her shaking hands. In truth she was very pretty, with clear-cut
Grecian features and eyes as blue as the skies of Athens.
“We’re not Englishmen,” said Dick, “but you can count on us just the
same.”
“You bet you can, just as long as the American eagle flaps its wings to
the tune of Yankee Doodle,” asserted Brad.
Dick placed her behind them saying:
“Look out for her, professor, while we discuss the matter with these
boisterous gentlemen.”
“Boys, boys, boys!” again fluttered the old man. “Do be careful! Do be
discreet! You’ll get us all into no end of trouble.”
By this time the two men had reached the spot, and the elder at once
demanded in Greek the possession of the maiden.
“Although we’ve scanned that language under compulsion,” said Dick, “we
are not prepared to talk it. If you will use plain United States, we may
be able to chat with you.”
With an assumption of politeness, the man immediately begged their
pardon in fairly good English, saying he had not thought in his
excitement to address them in other than his own language.
“The girl,” he said; “I take her.”
“Wait a bit,” remonstrated Merriwell, declining to move. “As you can
talk a modern language, we’ll discuss this matter. The girl seems
frightened. What is all the trouble about?”
The elder man drew himself up haughtily, while the younger glowered on
the boys.
“It is no bus’ness to you,” was the answer.
“Then I opine we’ll have to make it our business,” muttered Buckhart.
“But she is frightened, and she seeks our protection,” said Dick. “It is
the habit of all decent Americans to protect women in distress.”
“Let him not touch me!” entreated the girl, speaking again with that
indescribably bewitching accent which Dick had noted in her first appeal
to them.
“She mere child,” said the man haughtily. “I am her uncle, and I take
her.”
“Oh, you’re her uncle?”
“I am.”
“Well, tell us why she fled from you and seemed so excited and
frightened.”
“No bus’ness to you,” again asserted the man.
“He want make me do something I hate!” exclaimed the girl. “He make me
marree Maro.”
“Oh, ho! And who is Maro?”
The girl pointed at the younger man.
“And you do not wish to marry Maro?” questioned Dick.
“Oh, no, no, no!”
“Don’t blame you,” put in Brad. “If Maro wears that thundercloud on his
mug all the time, he’d frighten a Hottentot, much more a civilized girl.
Go change your face, Maro.”
The young man did not seem to understand this fully, but he darted a
deadly look at Brad, then urged his companion to make a move at once.
“Look out, boys—look out!” panted Professor Gunn. “He says you are mere
children and easily crushed. He wants to attack you at once.”
“Whoop!” cried Brad, squaring away. “Let him wade right in! Let them
both break loose and come at us! They’ll find the children ready for
business, you bet your boots!”
“Steady, Brad,” cautioned Dick. “We’ll fight if we have to.”
“And I sure reckon we’ll have to, pard.”
“It looks that way, but let’s not rush matters. Keep a cool head.”
Dick feared the men were armed, which would give them an additional
advantage. Under ordinary circumstances it would not seem a difficult
thing for them to obtain the mastery over the two boys, but those boys,
in spite of their years, were remarkable athletes and clever fighters,
and they believed they could hold the Greeks good play unless deadly
weapons were produced. Neither lad counted on assistance from Professor
Gunn.
The elder man grew impatient and again demanded possession of the girl,
asserting that the boys would be punished for interfering, as he was the
one who had sole authority over her.
“Where is her father?” asked Dick. “Is he dead?”
“Not dead,” explained the girl quickly. “In India. He leaf me with
Tyrus.”
“So the old boy’s name is Tyrus?” muttered Brad.
“Tyrus Helorus,” said the man haughtily. “If wise, you not int’fere in
Greece with one who have name Helorus.”
“The Helorus you say!” grinned Brad.
“That what I say!”
“Thanks! You’re so kind! I reckon we’d better introduce ourselves.
Gents, this here is Dick Merriwell, a fighter from his toes to his scalp
lock. He lives on scrimmages. To him a good fight is the breath of life.
If he goes a whole day without a fight he loses flesh and becomes a
whole lot downcast. I’ve seen him whip seven men in concussion. He looks
young, but he’s fought enough to be older than these ruins. I’ll wager
the contents of my warbags that the professor and I can sit down and
look on comfortable while he wallops the both of you in one round.”
“That will about do,” muttered Dick.
“Wait,” urged Brad. “Don’t cut me out of presenting myself. I, gents, am
Bradley Buckhart, from the Rio Pecos country, Texas, U. S. I’ve been
brought up where they have man for breakfast every morning. It gets to
be a regular morning treat for us in Texas. I am some off my feed just
at present, not having had any man this morning. You’ve happened along
just in time to relieve my famished condition. So sail in, both of you,
and we’ll proceed to chaw you up. You hear me sweetly carol!”
The Greeks looked at him in bewilderment, and well they might. It is
likely that they took this talk for a bluff; but, if so, they were soon
to learn that Brad Buckhart was one of those rare bluffers who
invariably “made good.”
A silent chap with fighting blood in his veins is generally regarded as
formidable and dangerous when aroused, but once in a while it happens
that a talkative chap is just as dangerous.
Those who saw and heard Brad for the first time were almost certain to
fancy he would show the white feather at the last moment. Those who had
seen him often and knew him well never doubted that he would
unflinchingly enter a den of roaring lions if he felt it his duty to do
so.
The natural chivalry of Buckhart’s nature had been stirred by the
appearance of the girl and by her appeal for protection, and therefore
he was ready to lay down his life in defense of her right there on the
plateau of the Acropolis.
It was but natural that Professor Gunn should be much alarmed over the
situation, for he felt that, to a large extent, the safety of the boys
was in his hands and he was responsible for them.
Therefore the old man now proposed that they should all go to a
magistrate or some official who had proper authority and that the case
should be submitted to him.
To his astonishment this seemed to infuriate both the Greeks. They
cursed him and the boys for interfering and sneered at the proposal of
submitting the matter to any official. One more demand they made for
possession of the girl, and it was plain they meant to take her by force
if refused.
They were promptly refused by both boys, who placed themselves shoulder
to shoulder in front of the shrinking maiden.
With a snarl of rage, the younger Greek drew a knife.
“Oh, heavens!” moaned Professor Gunn. “There will be bloodshed!”
Then, to his greater horror, he saw Dick and Brad attack the men,
declining to wait to be attacked themselves.