A FRIEND WORTH HAVING
Curtis sat down upon the edge of the fountain. There was a faint smell
of powder in the air. He heard a shot now and again in the distance.
A bugle sounded. Fortunately no more of the Bashi Bazouks passed
through the square.
"Gone!" said Curtis; "gone!"
The Greeks began to come in, talking excitedly and gesticulating like
madmen. They seemed to be in high spirits. They gathered about
Curtis, and, pointing at the dead bodies, all talked at once. They
enraged him. He could hardly resist the desire to jump up and lay
about among them with the butt of his musket. Lindbohm pushed his way
through the crowd. Holding his gun in his left hand, he brought the
right to his forehead, saluting gaily with the imaginary sword.
"Well, my friend, we had a little fun with them, didn't we? The
ambush, however, would have been more of a success had the men obeyed
my orders. If I had my way I would yust shoot a soldier who disobeyed
orders. Still, we taught them a lesson. We have killed, let me see
how many, one two, three--
"Hell!" interrupted Curtis, rising suddenly.
"What!" said Lindbohm, turning upon him, "what's the matter?"
"She's gone."
Lindbohm clutched at the shoulder of a bystanding insurgent.
"Panayota!" he gasped.
"Huh! Where were you? Eh? Where were you? Here they came, six of
'em, right down here, and the girl and I all alone. What could I do,
one against six? You're a healthy soldier, you are--scatter all over
the country! Lindbohm, you're to blame for this. You've got to answer
to me--somebody's got to settle for this." Flinging his rifle down
among the stones, he turned his back contemptuously and limped toward
one of the houses. A kindly insurgent sprang to his assistance.
"Right up through there they went, carrying her with them. Four men
could have stopped 'em. Where were you, damn you?" and, pushing the
insurgent from him, he shook his fist in his face. "Get out of my
sight, get out!" he cried.
Lindbohm was sitting on the side of the basin, his face buried in his
hands. He was sobbing and talking to himself in Swedish. Those who
stood near heard the word "Panayota." Reason returned to Curtis as
speedily as he had lost it. His blind rage passed away, and in its
place came a resolve to recover Panayota and to settle with Kostakes
according to the present debt and all that might accrue. The spirit of
Crete had taken thorough possession of him. He had been wronged by the
Turk, he lived only for vengeance. His eye fell upon a Cretan in the
act of pulling a boot from a dead Turk's foot. He was tugging with all
his might. All at once he flew over backwards with the boot in his
hands. His comrades broke into laughter. Lindbohm did not look up.
"They don't feel this thing about Panayota as badly as Lindbohm and I
do," soliloquized Curtis. "Poor old Lindbohm! I'll tell him I'm in
love with Panayota, and then he'll see how foolish it is for him to
take on so. He ought to stand it if I can."
The insurgent detached the other boot and brought the pair to him.
"Will those fit?" he asked. "Good boots."
Curtis took the boots and went over to the drinking fountain. He
patted Lindbohm on the back. "Cheer up, old man," he said. "They
can't get away from us. There's another day coming."
It was impossible to get the boot upon the sore foot, so one of the
insurgents cut it off at the ankle and slit it down nearly to the toe.
Then he punched a number of holes, and Curtis was able, by means of a
string, to lace on this improvised shoe. As the leather was soft, it
proved very comfortable. Lindbohm staggered to his feet, stretched
himself like a man awakening from sleep, and ran his finger through his
blonde pompadour.
"That's right, old man," said Curtis; "we must brace up. Of course,
you feel bad because we sort of fumbled the thing. But consider what
my feelings must be. Lindbohm, I love that girl."
The Swede started violently.
"You have made court to her?" he asked.
"Why, I told her that I loved her--yes, yes, several times."
"And, pardon me, she said that she loved you?"
"Now that you ask me, I don't believe she did. No, she didn't. But I
didn't have much time, you see."
Lindbohm held out his big, soft hand, and, as Curtis grasped it, said:
"We will not turn back; we will find Panayota. And if Kostakes has
insulted her we will punish him, though he flee to the ends of the
earth."
"Old man, you're a friend worth having," cried Curtis, wringing the
hand which he held. "I'll never forget this till the last day of my
life."
One of the insurgents, a former resident of Canea, spoke some French.
It was through the medium of this man that Lindbohm had communicated
with his troop thus far. He called him now and told him to get the men
together, as they must march. He feared lest Kostakes, surmising the
smallness of their numbers, might return to the attack.
So they set forth in the moonlight, taking with them the arms and other
spoils of the dead Turks, of whom the number proved to be eight. Their
plan was to conceal themselves somewhere in the fields and get some
sleep. But half a mile out of Galata they encountered a band of fifty
Cretan insurgents, young men of the region, armed to the teeth, and
thirsting for vengeance. These, learning that Lindbohm was a foreign
officer of approved mettle, put themselves also under his leadership.
Thus reinforced he returned and camped in Galata. The next morning he
pushed on vigorously after Kostakes--a pursuit that was destined to
last several weeks, and that was prosecuted with a continually
increasing band. Several encounters took place, and three Turkish
villages were destroyed, by way of reprisal. They did not succeed in
capturing Kostakes, but two wounded Turks that fell into their hands at
different times, told them that Panayota was in his camp.