Chapter II

Next day came news that Spetzas had openly joined the insurrection,

and two proselytizing brigs put into Hydra, to try to raise, if not

more ships, at any rate recruits. They both carried the new Greek

ensign, white and blue, and bearing the cross of Greece risen above the

crescent of Turkey. The tidings that the Capsina was going to join the

revolutionists with her ship had already spread through the town, and

when next morning she went down to the quay to speak with the captains

of the Spetziot vessels, she was like the queen bee to the swarm, and

the people followed her, cheering wildly. Their voices were music and

wine to her, and the thrill of exultation which belongs to acts of

leadership was hers.

Fierce and fine too was the news from Spetzas: the people had risen,

and after an immense meeting held on the quay had chosen a commander,

and broken open the treasury in which was kept the annual tribute

to the Ottoman government. The taxes had just been got in, and the

treasury was full. With this money eight brigs were being armed and

manned, and would set sail to Melos, at which island, as they knew,

were several Ottoman vessels making their annual cruise of conscription

for raising sailors. In such manner was the vintage of the sea to begin.

Round the Capsina and the Spetziot captains the crowd surged thickest.

One of these, Kostas Myrrides, had a certain loud and straight-hitting

gift of oratory, and the crowd gathered and swayed, and hung on his

words. There had been erected for him a sort of rude dais made of a

board placed upon two barrels, and from there he spoke to the people.

"The wine is drawn!" he cried; "to the feast then! Yet indeed there is

no choice. Greece is up in arms, and before long the armies and fleets

of the infidels will be on us. What will it profit you to stay still

and watch? Do you think that the Turks will sit in justice and examine

whether this man is an insurgent and the other is not? Is that their

way of dealing? The justice of the Turk! You have heard the proverb

and know what that means. The fire of war leaps from cape to cape and

mountain to mountain. Kindle it here. Already has one of you, and that

a woman whose name will not be forgotten, thrown in her lot with a

glorious cause--Greece, the freedom of Greece!"

The shout rose and broke in waves of sound, only to swell and tower

afresh when the speaker unfurled the new-blazoned flag, and waved it

above them. Truly, if the Turkish ship of conscription had come in

sight, there would have been short shrift for those on board.

The government of Hydra was in the hands of twelve primates, who

were responsible to the Ottoman government for the annual tribute in

specie (in itself but small), and also for the equipment and wages

of two hundred and fifty able-bodied seamen yearly to the Ottoman

fleet. To raise this more considerable sum a tax of five per cent. was

levied on the income of every man in the island. Now the ship-owners

were more than the bulk of the tax-payers, and it was clearer than

a summer noonday that if they joined the revolutionists, unless the

island revolution became general, or their ships met with immediate

success, the Ottoman fleet would descend on the Hydra, and the Shadow

of God would have a word for the primates, and a rope. Thus it came

about that while the uproar was still growing and fermenting on the

quay, the primates met together, and found grave faces. The Capsina,

they considered, was primarily responsible for this consternating

stroke, but to try to guide the Capsina back into the paths of peace,

they feared, was like attempting to lead the moon with a string,

and to quarrel with her was to quarrel with the clan, to whom she

was as a god, eccentric, perhaps, but certainly unquestionable. The

responsibility of debate, however, was not granted them, for before

they could devise any check on the Capsina, a new and tremendous burst

of cheering caused the president, Father Jakomaki Tombazes, to rise and

go to the window. Three vessels were leaving the port, two being the

Spetziot vessels, with the Greek flag blazoning its splendor to heaven,

and as for the other, there was no mistaking the build of the _Sophia_.

Tombazes gasped, then returned to the others.

"The Capsina has gone," he said. "And, by the Virgin," cried he, rising

to the heroical level of the event, and striking the table with his

fist, "she is a brave lass, and Hydra should be proud of her!"

This straightforward statement of the duty of Hydriots was not less

abhorrent to the assembled primates. The Capsina had gone, the clan

were shouting themselves hoarse on the beach, and, where an action of

the Capsina was concerned, it was not less idle to argue with the clan

than to employ rhetoric to a mad bull. The only courses open were to

fly for safety to the mainland, join the revolutionists, or employ

coercive measures with the rest, whereby they should not do so. Now the

tax-collectors were necessarily of their party, for the necks of all

the officials under the Turkish rule were, so to speak, in one noose,

and there were also a number of old, sedately minded or retired men who

would distinctly prefer to live out their lives in inglorious peace,

unless matters were already in the fire, than to burn squibs, for in

so small regard did the primates hold the revolution, under the very

nose of the Shadow of God. But, look at it as they might, they were

bound to confess that a sorrier party had never been got together.

Even Tombazes, by his remark about the duty of Hydra, showed he was of

no reliable stuff, and the primates seemed depressed. For the rest,

the island was capering in exultant frenzy on the beach, at what the

Capsina had done, and what they would do.

Tombazes, who as their president should have shown himself a pillar

of prudence, alone of them all sat with a glistening eye, and smiled,

showing his teeth in his black and scarcely gray-streaked beard. Then

throwing his head back, he burst out into a great crack of laughter.

"The Capsina is finer than we all," he said. "What a girl! She is the

only man among us, for all our long beards. Who knows she may not sail

straight for Constantinople, force her way into the Sultan's presence,

and set Michael at him. I can almost see her doing it, and indeed I

should dearly like to. 'Hi, Michael, at his throat, boy!' she would

cry. Yet I see her walking out again safe and leaving him lying dead

like a broken doll, for I cannot imagine three armies of Turks stopping

her. She would call them dogs and devils, and, the chidden dogs, they

would tuck their tails away and only snarl. Yes, my brothers, this is

not in order; I am but a fond dreamer. But let us come to the point.

The Capsina beats us. Oh, she beats us! We need not waste time in

making faces at that. But what next? Of course we must do our best to

stop this rising, but, though I would not have it said by others, my

heart is not wholly on our side, though my head shall be. Is not the

Capsina stupendous?"

He rose again from his place, and hurried to the open window for

another glance.

"They are all crowding on sail," he said, "but the Capsina's ship

is first--first by half a mile, I should say. She is always first.

Pre-eminently has she been first this morning. Yes, yes, I know, let us

come to the point. Perhaps Brother Nikolas will give us his views," and

the great burly man bent down his head to hide the inextinguishable joy

of his face.

Brother Nikolas's views were short, sour, eminently depressing, and as

follows:

The Turkish ships which were cruising for the conscription would be

at Hydra before the end of April--that is to say, in considerably

less than a month. Instead of two hundred and fifty able-bodied

recruits they would find twelve, or perhaps eleven, primates--here

his eyes looked lemon-juice at Tombazes--a quantity of unemployed

tax-collectors, some elderly gentlemen, some women, and some children.

This would probably be thought an unsatisfactory substitute. They

could fill in the probable course of subsequent events for themselves,

for one Turkish raid was very like another. He would suggest guarding

the treasury at the risk of their lives, to show that they, at any

rate, had no hand in the matter.

Others spoke in the same melancholy vein, and at the end Tombazes.

"The point, so I take it, is this," he said. "Unless we stop this

movement, or, if we are unable to stop it, unless we run away for

refuge to the insurgent armies in Greece or in other islands, we

are certainly dead men. Brother Nikolas has suggested that we have

a certain duty to the Turk; well, that is as it may be, but in any

case we are at present the vassals of the Sultan, and for the sake of

our own necks, this meeting, I am sure, would wish to repudiate the

movement. It will be no manner of good, but we must let that be known.

With your consent, I will send for the mayor, and make an official

inquiry as to what the tumult is about, and where and why the Capsina

has gone. Meantime, and with the utmost haste, I suggest that we stow

the island revenues in the church. It may be difficult, but I think it

will be possible if we do it quietly. The money will certainly be safer

there."

The primates dispersed: some to mingle with the crowd, and try to allay

this illicit enthusiasm, whereby certain men got infected with it;

some to make arrangements for the funds of the national treasury being

moved to the church; Tombazes alone, though burning to go down among

the people, waiting in the room where they had met for his conference

with the mayor, Christos Capsas. Indeed, he was in most unprelatical

vein, and the meeting of the two was very cordial; you would have said

they took the same side. Christos dwelt with extreme complacency on the

expedition of the Capsina--it was like the clan, he said, to take the

lead in adventure--and Tombazes, though officially he had bound himself

to deprecate it, gave a halting lip-service only to the cause of the

primates.

"And the men of the island, you say," says he, with a dancing eye, "are

resolved to follow this--this most imprudent and ill-advised example

set them by the Capsina? Man, do they realize what it means? Do they

not know that the Turks will descend on those they leave behind--their

women and their children?"

"Yet the women would have them go," said Christos.

"The more senseless they. Yet women are ever so. For what will happen

to them? Are the Turks so chivalrous? And will Turks make kind parents

to the children who will be fatherless?"

"Yet the children are sailing sticks and branches in the harbor, and

throwing stones at them. 'This,' they say to one another, 'we will do

to the Turks.'"

"By the Virgin, they are true Greeks, then!" shouted Tombazes, lustily,

forgetting himself for a moment but his voice ringing true. Then with

impatience: "What does it matter what the children do?" he asked. "It

is a new thing to take counsel of the children before we act."

"Yet you asked me of the children," said Christos, smiling, "and, as

you said, father, they are true Greeks."

Tombazes sat down, and motioned Christos to take a seat.

"You, then, are on the side of the women and the children," he said,

"or rather, if you look at it aright, against them; for sure is it

that you give them over to the Turks to treat--to treat as Turks treat

women and children. Your son Christos a servant in the harem--have you

thought of that?"

"I am on the side of the Capsina," said Christos.

Tombazes looked furtively round, as if to see that none other was

there, walked slowly to the window, and came back again with quicker

step. Twice he began to speak, twice stopped, but at the last he could

contain himself no longer.

"And so, by all the saints, am I!" he cried. "See, Christos, I trust

you, and this must not be known nor guessed. For sure I would, if

I followed my desire, sail after that splendid girl--yes, swim to

wherever she may go--with the Greek flag over me. Man, but my heart

burned when I saw that. The cross above the crescent, and soon no

crescent at all. Thus shall it be. But I and the others, and you, too,

are put over these people, and we must make them consider what will

follow. Nothing must be done wildly; because we are aflame with this

wonderful, prophetic flag, tinder to that spark, we must not act as

if the thing was done, as if the moment we take up arms, down go the

Turks like the walls of Jericho; and in this, Christos, I am speaking

with all the sincerity God gave me. No enthusiasm, no sudden rising

will do the work; the fight will be long and bitter, and if a new and

glorious thing is to spring up, it will be watered with tears and

with blood--with tears of the fatherless and widow, and blood of the

fathers. Tell me yourself, you are the father of a family, with a stake

in peace; what are you meaning to do?"

"The Capsina has lent me the _Hydra_, which was to have sailed to Syria

to-day with stuff for the Turkish governor. The stuff she has thrown

overboard, and I sail to-morrow for Nauplia, where I shall get orders."

"She threw the Turk's stuff overboard? I would it had been Turks! Great

is the Capsina!" and the primate capered barbarously up the room and

down again. "And now I will go down to the people," said he. "You and I

have a secret, Christos; but I wonder how long the devil will give me

strength to keep it."

Down on the quay matters had fared more briskly than among the

primates. A member and delegate of the Revolutionist Club, by name

Economos, had landed with the ships from Spetzas, and had been

preaching revolt and revenge to willing ears. Even before the departure

of the Capsina, whose sails were now a gull on the horizon, he had

begun enlisting volunteers, and before Tombazes reached the harbor,

he was already at the head of an armed band, including several

ship-captains, and was rapidly earning a cheap popularity by addressing

the mob as "citizens of Greece."

Tombazes, who, for his ruddy face and burly heartiness, was popular

with the people, made his way through to where the crowd was thickest,

and instantly interrupted the man's speeches.

"Now what is this all about?" he cried, good-humoredly, pushing his

way in. "What is all this disturbance? It is all most irregular. Ha,

Dimitri, you should be driving out the sheep instead of wasting time

on the quay, for all the world like a quacking goose that can't lay

an egg! You, too, Anastasi, now you are a less idiot than some, tell

me what this is about, and who is that holding a flag which I do not

remember to have seen before?"

He made his way through the people up to Economos.

"Now, my good fellow," he said, "just stop preaching for a moment.

We primates have a good deal of preaching to do, and so we have much

sympathy for those who listen. Who are you, where do you come from,

what's your business, and what's your name, and what are you talking

about? Oh, you silly folk!" he cried, aloud, as a discontented murmur

rose up. "You are all going to have fair play--that is why I am here.

But just let me learn what it is all about. Melesinas, don't brandish

your knife in that foolish way, or you will be cutting your own oaf's

hand off!"

Economos paused, and realizing that there was nothing to be gained by

insolence, seeing that this man was a friend evidently of the people,

stepped down from the table on which he was standing.

"My name is Antonios Economos," he said. "I am an emissary from the

Club of Patriots in Greece, and I am here to raise the revolt in Hydra

against the Turk."

"That is all very well," said Tombazes. "You want ships and support,

and for ships you want men, and for men money. Has the Club of Patriots

supplied you with that?"

"The treasury--the national treasury!" shouted several voices.

Tombazes looked up quickly, and, springing forward with an agility

which in a man of his bulk bordered on the miraculous, seized hold of

a big fellow whom he had seen shouting and shook him till his teeth

rattled in his head.

"Another word," he cried, "and I pop you into the harbor. You too,

George, I saw you shouting too. If I tell your wife it will be but

little supper you get. I am ready for you all, five under one arm

and six under the other. Oh, I will teach you to interrupt when I am

talking to another. Get back with you from the table, all of you, all

of you. And you there, Yanni, bring me wine and two glasses, this

gentleman and I have to talk together, and chairs--two chairs; and the

sooner the rest of you silly quacking folk clear away, the fewer there

will be for me to put into the sea, and that will save trouble for us

all: for me, in getting hot on so warm a day, for there are fat lubbers

among you; and for you, in having to change your clothes."

The crowd edged a little back, more good-humored than resentful, for

they were accustomed to be treated like children by Tombazes, and the

island knew him familiarly as "The Nurse." He was their doctor, a

practitioner of heroic simples, sun and sea being the staple of his

prescriptions, their spiritual consoler, herein also employing the

less morbid remedies. He could sail a boat against the best of their

seamen, and he had again and again, as they all knew, taken the side of

the people against the greedy and grabbing primates. The wine and the

chairs were brought, and he and Economos sat down, clinked glasses, and

settled down to talk.

"You will have found dry work in all that talking," said Tombazes,

"unless you are very fond of your own voice. Good wine is the gift of

God, and this is not bad. Now I heard what that man shouted, and so

did you. Now tell me straight, for this it will save trouble. Was it

you who suggested that they should get the money from the treasury, or

they?"

Economos, who had been playing the noisy demagogue all morning, and

was quite prepared to play it again, if advisable, determined for the

present to talk soberly.

"They suggested it," he said, dryly. "I'm willing also to tell you that

it struck me as an admirable notion."

"Did it so?" said Tombazes, musingly. "Then you are more easily pleased

than most men, for your idea of the admirable seems to me the silliest

thing I have ever heard tell of. And as I am older than you, and a

man of experience, it is likely I have run against many silly things

in this world. Now, man, sit down; this is my way of speaking; no man

in this island takes offence at what I say, for he knows that would

not help what he has his hand to--aye, and he would be like to get his

nose pulled, which is of the more immediate consequence. Now tell me

how many ships do you mean to victual and put into commission with your

admirable notions?"

"Four, to begin with," said Economos.

"Four, to begin with, says he!" exclaimed Tombazes, in a lamentable

treble voice. "And how many to end with, and with what will you be

paying the crews? Man, do you think you will find enough to keep them

in pipes and tobacco with what is in the treasury? Four, to begin

with!--save us all!"

"The crews will average sixty men each," continued Economos, "and that

will make two hundred and forty. Every year the treasury pays the wage

of two hundred and fifty men. I deal with facts, you see."

"Come, then, let's have facts," cried Tombazes, "and surely I will help

you. It's facts the man will be wanting. Why, you must have a fever or

an ague in your blood! You want bleeding, man, I see it in your eye. Do

you think we collect the taxes for a whole year together?"

"I suppose what there is in the treasury will last us a month."

"Well, say it lasts a month," said Tombazes. "What then? You will

return here for more money. Much will you find when you have taken from

the island just those men who pay the bulk of the taxes. I'm thinking

that your admirable notion is even sillier, if we look into it, than it

appeared on the surface. And even the look of it on the surface made me

think you had been better for blood-letting."

"See, father, listen to me," said Economos, with sudden earnestness.

"Have you heard what has happened? Surely you have not, or you would

not speak thus. Do you know that Kalamata has been taken by the Greeks,

that the beacons of liberty have flashed from one end of the country

to another? A free people have stood in the meadows round Kalamata and

sung the 'Te Deum' for that great and wonderful victory. Is that not a

thing to make the blood tingle? In the north, Germanos, archbishop and

primate, has raised the revolt. The monks of Megaspelaion are up in

arms; Petrobey and they of Maina have come forth like a herd of hungry

wolves."

Tombazes' eye flashed.

"It is fit that you should tell me all you have to say for their mad

scheme. Go on, man, go on. Tell me all you know. I--I can judge better

so."

Economos suspected the truth, that the primate was all tinder to the

flame, and, with a certain acumen, did not let him see this, nor did

he at present tax him with it. Instead, he spoke of the plans of the

revolutionists--how that the Turks were flocking into Tripolitza, from

which, when the time came, there would be no escape; how essential it

was to the success of the war that Greece should be cut off from the

headquarters of the Ottoman forces. This could not be done till the

coasts were in the hands of the insurgents, and their ships prevented

fresh arms and men being sent into the country. That was the part of

the Greek ports and islands. Spetzas had already joined; in Psara soon

would the standard of revolution be raised; was Hydra, the largest and

best-manned, she who should be both arms and sinews of naval Greece, to

stand neutral? Indeed, neutral she could not be. If she was not with

the insurgents the Turks would soon make her into an advanced point

from which they could the more easily reach the mainland. She would

be garrisoned; her harbor would be a cluster of Turkish ships--would

that be a pleasant thing for the Hydriots? Their only safety was in

fighting. Greece was in arms--what matter to the Turks if Hydra had

joined the insurgents or not? Would the mob of soldiers and sailors

spare them? Would they leave the Hydriots their houses while they

camped on the hillside? Would their women be spared because they were

loyal? And the danger to Greece was thus doubled. The Turks would be

holding an eyrie from which to swoop in the midst of the patriots.

"Indeed," concluded Economos, returning from his somewhat rhetorical

language to colloquialism, "we will have no wasps' nests in the seat of

our trousers, if you please."

This was too much for Tombazes, and motioning back the crowd, who had

begun to encroach again, he spoke low to the other.

"I shall surely burst unless I speak," he said. "Do you not see how

I am with you? Man, you are blinder than the worms if you do not see

that. But if you drop a word of that till I give you leave, I swear by

the lance of St. George and the coffee-pot which he made whole, that I

will kick you till my foot is sore and you are less like a man than a

jelly-fish! That treasury notion of yours is absurd. That I stick to,

and for the reasons I gave you. Give it up, I ask you, for the present.

Mark you, and listen to me. I am a traitor in my camp for a good cause,

and I can help you. If the primates and others are assured you are not

going to touch the national treasury--for its safety, they think, means

their safety from the Turk--half the opposition will be withdrawn. You

must raise money another way. Moreover, you want five times as much as

there is in the treasury. And what is the use of four ships? Eh, that

was what I meant when I said your notion seemed to me the silliest

thing I have ever heard. Did you not see that? Ah, well, God made the

blind men also! There are at least thirty in the harbor, which are all

capable of carrying guns and of outsailing those lubberly Turkish tubs.

You must have them all. And you must not leave the women and children

here defenceless. You must organize a body of men who will guard the

harbor and the town. Luckily there is no landing except this side the

island. Afterwards, of course, you will add the money in the treasury

to what must be collected by levying a tax. Milk the treasury dry, man.

The money will be stored in the Church of St. George, and I shall have

the key. Now mark the result of our conversation. I have persuaded

you, so I shall tell the primates, and you the people, not to touch

the treasury--that alone will quiet my party considerably. Propose to

the people to levy a tax on all the capital in the island, and submit

that to the primates as the only condition on which the treasury will

be untouched. The people will give willingly, the primates unwillingly,

but the money will be the same. Fill your glass; shake hands with me,

and I will go to my party. I drink to the freedom of Greece, and to

you. Viva!"

For the next two or three days negotiations went on between the

primates and the people, and often Tombazes had occasion to wear a

mighty grave face, whereby he should cloak the merriness of his heart.

The part he was playing, as he assured himself, was the only way of

fighting for the good cause, for had he openly joined the revolutionist

party, the confidence which the other primates felt in him would be

gone, and they would be the more eager to oppose tooth and nail to any

proposals. But what they regarded as his diplomatic victory with regard

to the national treasure, gave him a position of extraordinary security

among them, and Economos, perhaps partly for his own ends, and the

spurious credit which the people would give him of having successfully

fought down the opposition of the primates, was equally anxious to

conceal Tombazes' part in the affair.

At length a sum adequate to meet all immediate expenses was raised; the

crews were all paid one month's wages in advance, with the prospect of

prize-money won from the Turks, and the people seized on the national

treasury. Tombazes' ill-suppressed delight at this step, which was

conveyed to the primates in conclave, put him for the moment within an

ace of exposure.

Fresh intrigues began; the primates, to make the best of a bad job,

appealed to those sailors and captains who had formerly been in their

employment, offering fresh berths in their own service; for many of

them owned ships, and as the island was now pledged to the national

cause, they, too, proposed to have a finger in the prize-money.

Economos, on the other hand, failing to see how it was just that those

who had opposed the scheme should take a share in it now, organized

a revolutionary committee in whose hands should be the sole conduct

of the war, and naturally enough did not appoint any primate on it.

Eventually--for both sides were somewhat afraid of each other, and

wished to avoid open collision--a compromise was arrived at. Those

captains and men who had already definitely engaged themselves in the

service of the revolutionists during the opposition of the primates,

were forbidden to serve on the primates' ships. On the other hand, the

ships of the primates were to be admitted to the fleet, and should be

treated in the matter of prize-money with the others. Finally--and had

the primates known the cause of this, there would have been angry men

in Hydra--the command of the entire fleet was given to Tombazes.

On the morning of the 29th of April a solemn service was held in the

church, and Tombazes read out the declaration of the independence of

Hydra as part of the free state of Greece.

"It is determined by us," so ran the proclamation, "the primates and

governors of this island of Hydra, to serve no longer nor obey the

infidels who are the enemies of God and of His Christ, and of the

blessed mother of Christ, and from this day we declare that we will

make ourselves a free people of the realm of Greece. In the support of

this resolve it will be our duty to fight for our wives, our children,

our country, and we will fight till the death without counting the

cost, and giving whatever we possess--our goods, our obedience, and our

lives--to our country's cause. May He who is the Giver of Victory and

has already given us the will to fight, strengthen our arms and deliver

His foes and ours into our hands."

By the first week in May, such was the frenzy of expedition among the

men, the Hydriot contingent, numbering twenty sail, was ready to go to

sea. The eight brigs from Spetzas which had sailed to Melos to capture

the Turkish conscription ships had put in at Hydra, uniting themselves

with Tombazes' fleet, and reported complete success. The credit of the

capture however belonged, as they acknowledged, to a strange ship that

sailed as if by magic, and which no one knew. For as they were nearing

Melos, intending to get inside the harbor where they knew the Turks

were, and capture them before the Melian contingent got on board, and

while they were still a couple of miles out to sea, the wind, which

so far had been favorable, dropped, and the airs became so light and

variable that they lay for two days like painted ships, taken back

rather than making ground.

At this point, Tombazes, to whom the Spetziot captain was telling his

tale, got up from his chair and waved his arms wildly.

"It was she--I know it was she! Thank God it was she," he cried. "Go

on, man."

Captain Yassos looked at him a moment in surprised wonder.

"It certainly was a she," he said. "How did you know?"

"The spirit of prophecy was upon me!" cried Tombazes. "Finish your

tale."

"It was our desire to take the ships, you will understand," he said,

"before the Melian folk got aboard, while if we failed, they ran risk

of being murdered by the Turks, for fear of their helping us. But it

would seem God willed it otherwise, for He sent us no wind except as

it were the breath of a man cooling his broth. A little mist, too, was

rising seaward and spreading towards us, and when we who knew the sea

saw that, we thought it impossible we could get ten miles in time, for

the mist means a calm and windlessness."

"Oh, am I a boy who would be a sailor, that you tell me the alphabet of

things?" exclaimed Tombazes.

"You will see it all makes the thing more marvellous," said the other,

smiling, "so be patient with me. Well, we were cursing at the calm when

suddenly, on our starboard quarter--my ship being to starboard of all

the others--there came it seemed the shadow of a ship, white and huge,

with all sails spread and coming towards us. Dimitri, my son, who was

with me, said, 'Look, father, look!' and crossed himself, and I did the

same. Now I am no left-handed man at ship sailing, but when I saw that

ship moving slowly but steadily towards us while we lay like logs, I

thought it no canny thing. She passed half a cable's length from us,

and I saw her guns looking through the open ports, new so they seemed

to me; and on her topmast, and I blessed the Virgin when I saw that,

was the flag of Greece. One man stood at the tiller whose face seemed

familiar to me, and by him stood a woman, tall, and like the morning,

somehow, to look upon. In that still air I heard her say to him, 'A

point more to starboard,' so it seemed that she was the captain, and as

she passed us she waved her hand, and cried, 'Do you not wish a share

in this, or am I to go alone? Come, comrades, follow, follow. I bring

you the wind.'

"On her word the wind awoke, the slack ropes began to run through the

blocks, and in a few seconds the sail was full. Up went our helm, and

we followed. But it was like following a hare on the mountains to

follow that great white ship. She swam from us as a fish swims from

a man in the water, and before we had turned the cape behind which

lies the harbor we heard her guns. Twice before we came up she had

sailed round the largest of the three ships, pouring in broadside

after broadside, the other replying clumsily and hardly touching her,

and just as I, who was ahead of the rest, fired at one of the others,

the ship she was battering struck its colors, and anchoring, she

let down the boats, and with two boat-loads of her crew she put off

to board them. Then those treacherous devils of hell under the flag

of truce, you mind, again opened fire on her. But it seems she had

calculated on that, and on the instant her ship blazed again, firing

over their heads and raking the deck where the Turks were. This time,

as I could see, they fired red-hot ball, and one, I suppose, struck

the powder-magazine, for it was as if the end of the world came, and

a moment after the Turk sank. The boarding party was not far from the

ship, and the explosion showered boards and wreckage round them, but

thereat they turned and rowed back again, their work being done for

them. For me, I had my own affairs ready, and for ten minutes we blazed

and banged at each other, but before it was over I looked round once,

and saw already at the harbor's mouth the ship which had come out of

the mist beating out to sea again. Now, father, you seem to know who

that woman was; who was it?"

"Glory be to God!" said Tombazes. Then, "But, man, you are an ignorant

fool. Who could it be but the Capsina of Hydra? But where has she gone?

Why is she not with you?"

"I know not: she was gone before we had finished with the others."

With the combined squadron from Spetzas and Hydra had joined nine ships

from Psara. There was half a day's trouble with them, for they refused

at first to recognize the command of Tombazes, and said it was fitter

that the three islands should cast lots, and let the choice of the

admiral go with the winner. They had, they said, a most wary man of the

sea among them, who had worked with the Russians and knew the use of

the fire-ship. But the Spetziots had accepted Tombazes as commander of

the two islands, and the Psariots were told that they might do the same

or leave the squadron, and they chose the former, though ill-content.

They cruised northward, for knowing that news of the revolution had

reached Constantinople and that the Sultan Mahmud was preparing to send

a fleet to the refractory islands, they hoped to intercept this, and

thus prevent punishment reaching their homes or fresh supplies putting

into ports on the mainland. Several times they sighted Turkish ships,

and thus two or three small prizes were taken. For ten days they met

none but single ships, which, without exception, surrendered, often

without the exchange of a shot; the crews were taken and sent back to

Hydra or Spetzas, where they were prisoners; but these vessels being

for the most part trading brigs of the poorer class, there was little

booty to be divided among the captors.

The tenth day of the cruise saw the squadron off Cape Sunium, at the

extreme south end of Attica. The day before they had run before a

strong south wind, hoping to clear the promontory before night and get

through the dangerous straits to the north of it by daylight. Until

evening the heavens had been clear, but the night came on cloudy,

starless, and calm, and fearing to pass the straits in so uncertain

a light, for they were full of reefs, orders had been given to lie

to and wait for day. But the currents of that shifting sea rendered

it impossible to maintain position. The greater part of the squadron

was caught by the racing flow of water that runs up northwest towards

Peiraeus, and drifted safely but swiftly up the gulf. Of the remainder,

all but two weathered Sunium and lay for shelter under Zea, where they

remained till morning. But these two, finding themselves dangerously

near the rocky south headland of Sunium, beat out to sea again before

the breeze dropped, and by morning lay far out to the east of the

others.

Day broke windless and calm, with an oily sea, big, but not broken,

coming in from the south. The ships in the gulf had to wait for the

land breeze to spring up: those off Zea who had passed Sunium lay to

till the others joined them, but the two to the east, Hydriot ships,

out of shelter of the land, had a moderate breeze from the north.

For two hours after daybreak they waited, but the others, out of reach

of their wind, made no sign, and about nine o'clock they were aware of

a Turkish ship coming from the north, and sailing, as they supposed,

to the islands or to some Peloponnesian port. The two Greek ships

were lying close together, it may be a cable's distance apart, and

it was immediately clear to each that the Turk must be stopped, for

the purpose of their squadron was none other than this. The admiral's

ship, far away to the west, it was impossible to signal, and even if

possible, ineffectual, for nought but a miracle would have brought up a

land breeze at nine in the morning. So as in duty bound the two brigs,

like sea swallows, put about, and hoisting the Greek flag went in

pursuit of the Turk.

As they neared her it was evident that a day's work was before them,

and Sachturi, the captain of one of the brigs, signalled to Pinotzi:

"Ship of war," and Pinotzi signalled back: "So are we." Yanni Sachturi,

the captain's son, a lusty, laughing boy of about eighteen, danced

with delight as he read the signal to his father, and heard the order

to clear for action. The ports had been closed, for a heavy sea had

been running during the night, but in a few minutes the guns were run

out, the men at their posts, and the pokers heating in the galley fire.

Sachturi's vessel carried ten guns, four on each broadside and two in

the bows; Pinotzi's only six, but of these two were thirty-two-pounders

and heavier than any of Sachturi's.

The Turk was running due south, and Sachturi from the bridge, seeing

that if they went straight for her, she would pass them, ordered

that his ship should he laid two points nearer the wind, and Pinotzi

followed his lead. In ten minutes it was clear that they were rapidly

overhauling her, and in another half-hour they were but a short mile

off. For a moment the Turk seemed to hesitate, and then, putting about,

went off on an easterly tack. But here the Greek gained more speedily,

and she, perceiving this, went off straight down wind again. This

manoeuvre lost her more ground, and Sachturi and she were now broadside

to each other when the Turk opened fire. Her aim was too low, and the

halls struck the water some two hundred yards from the Greek ship. In

spite of her imposing appearance Sachturi noticed that only five guns

were fired, the balls from three of which ricochetted off the sea, and

flew, two of them, just beyond the Greek's bows, the other clearing

the deck without touching her. Sachturi's guns replied, but apparently

without effect, and changing his course he made an easterly tack to

pass behind her, for all her guns seemed to be forward. Pinotzi, who

had heavier ordnance, ran up broadside, and he and the Turk exchanged

a volley or two, but, owing to the heavy rolling of the ships and the

inexperience of the Greek gunners at least, without doing or receiving

damage.

Sachturi's guess had been correct, though why a ship-of-war had put to

sea only half-armed he did not pause to consider, and, coming up within

range, he let her have the starboard guns. But he had thus to lie

broadside on to the sea, which made accurate aim difficult; and again

putting her head to the sea, he ran on, meaning to use the two guns in

his bows at close quarters.

For an hour or more it was the battle of the hawk and the raven. The

two Greek ships skimmed and tacked about on the light breeze, sometimes

getting in a broadside as they closed in, sometimes passing behind her

stern, where she seemed to be unarmed. Twice Sachturi sailed round

her, giving broadside for broadside, and at last a lucky shot cut the

main-mast of the Turk in half, bringing down to the deck a pile of

wreckage and canvas. They could see the men hauling away to clear the

deck, when another shot from Pinotzi brought down the second mast,

leaving her rolling helplessly, with only the mizzen standing. Sachturi

had just rounded her stern, and had given another broadside, when

the Turk fired, and a ball crashing through the bulwarks killed two

sailors, and with them Yanni, who was just taking an order from his

father to close with her and throw on the grappling-irons.

Sachturi did not move; but he set his teeth for a moment, and looked at

Yanni. He was lying on his back, half his chest shot away, staring up

into the sky. His face was untouched, and his mouth seemed to smile. He

was his father's only son, and Sachturi loved him as his own soul.

In another ten minutes the grappling-irons were cast on to the Turk;

twice they were thrown off, but the third time two anchored themselves

in the ropes and blocks of the wrecked main-mast, and, though the Turks

sought furiously to free themselves, in another minute the Greeks from

Sachturi's ship were pouring over the side. Since Yanni had been killed

he had only said three words, twice when the grappling-irons were

thrown off, and he ordered them to be cast again, once as they boarded,

"Spare none!" he had cried.

The order was obeyed. The Turks had exhausted their ammunition, and

fought with knives only, charging down with undaunted bravery on the

muskets of the Greeks, and when the deck was cleared the boarders went

below. In a cabin they found an old man, dressed in the long white

robe of a Mussulman patriarch, with the green turban of the sons of

the Prophet on his head, playing draughts with a woman. And here, too,

Sachturi's order was obeyed.

The booty taken was immense, for on board were presents from the Sultan

to the Pasha of Egypt, and when the Turkish ship was no more than a

shambles they brought it all on board Sachturi's vessel for division.

They found him sitting on the deck, with Yanni's head on his knee. He

was quite silent and dry-eyed; he rested his weight on one hand, with

the other he was stroking the dead lad's hair.

The Capsina: An Historical Novel · 第 2 / 19 章