The next fortnight's cruising was well rewarded by the prizes they
took, but already symptoms of a dual control in the fleet, and thus of
no control at all, had unhappily begun to make appearance. The primates
were by no means disposed to forgive the slight which Economos had
put upon them, and before long they devised a cunning and unpatriotic
scheme of paying in public money, so to speak, their private debt to
him. To a certain extent the immediate adoption of his naval plans
among the sailors had been due to the hopes he put forward to the
islanders of winning large prizes, and the primates, by making a
main issue of this secondary desire among them, began to reinstate
themselves in power. Much of the booty taken was to be divided on the
return of the squadron to Hydra, and Economos, at the suggestion of
Tombazes, proposed that one-half of the gains of the cruise should be
appropriated to the prosecution of the war. This was an equitable and
patriotic suggestion, but coming as it did from Economos the primates
opposed it tooth and nail. Equally, too, did it fail to satisfy the
more greedy and selfish of his supporters, who cared for nothing but
their own aggrandizement.
Economos's proposal had been put forward one afternoon some three
days after their return to Hydra, at the sitting of the revolutionary
committee, which had been reorganized and included all the primates.
Tombazes alone of his class supported Economos, but the matter was
still in debate when they rose for the day.
The afternoon had been hot and windless, but an hour before sundown a
southerly breeze began to stir, and before long word was brought by a
shepherd who had been grazing his flocks on the hill above the town
that he had seen a ship under full sail off the southwest, making
straight for Hydra. It was known that a Turkish ship had escaped the
fate of its consort at Kalamata, but the fleet, though they had kept
a lookout for it, had seen nothing of it. Her fate they were to learn
later. Tombazes hesitated what to do; the ship might be part of the
Turkish squadron which had been cruising off the west coast of Greece;
again, it might be the single ship from Kalamata. In the former case
they had better look to the defence of their harbor, in the latter it
might be possible to man a couple of brigs and give chase.
He determined, however, to wait a little yet; for no other ship had
been sighted, and as long as there was but one it would be time to give
chase when she declared herself more manifestly. So going down to the
quay, where he would meet Economos and other commanders, he mingled
with the crowd. Even in so short space the ship had come incredibly
nearer, and even as he looked a livelier gust shook out the folds of
her flag, and at his elbow some one shouted, "The Capsina; it is the
Capsina! It is the Capsina back again!" The flag she carried was blue
and on it was the cross of Greece, no crescent anywhere.
On she came, black against the crimson sky, crumpling the water beneath
her forefoot. On the quay the crowd thickened and thickened, and soon
there came to them across the water a cheer from the ship. At that all
throats were opened, and shout after shout went up. For the moment all
the jealousies and quarrelling were forgotten, the primates mingled
their enthusiasm with the rest, feeling that but for the example so
memorably set by the Capsina their pockets would be lighter by all the
prize-money they had won; and even Father Nikolas, perhaps the sourest
man God ever made, found himself excitedly shaking hands with Economos.
After passing the southern point of the harbor the _Sophia_ hauled down
her mainsail, and three minutes afterwards she had swung round and her
anchor chains were screaming out. Before she had well come into harbor
fifty boats were racing out to meet her, then one of her own boats was
let down, and they saw that tall girlish figure, preceded by Michael
and followed by Kanaris, step in.
The elder Christos, with his son and daughter-in-law and grandchild,
were the first on the steps when she came ashore. She kissed them
affectionately, asking first after one and then the other.
"And what has been doing since I went?" she asked. "I have only heard
that certain ships from Hydra have been stinging the Turks very
shrewdly, but no more. For me I have not been idle, and two Turkish
ships lie on the ooze of the deep sea, and one more I have taken to
Nauplia; it will do penance for having served the Turk in now fighting
for us. Ah, father," and she held out her hand to Tombazes, "or admiral
shall I call you? Here is the truant home again."
But before the evening was out, though the enthusiasm of the people
grew higher and higher as the Capsina's deeds went from mouth to mouth,
the primates cooled, and Father Nikolas from being positively genial
passed through all the stages of subacidity and became more superacid
than one would have thought it possible for so small a man to be. For
it appeared that Tombazes had dined with her and that she had wished
to hand him over at once no less than eight hundred Turkish pounds for
the "war fund." Tombazes had told her that at present there was no war
fund, and that on this very day a proposal had been made for one, which
would without doubt be vetoed on the morrow. At this it seemed that
the Capsina stared at him in undisguised amazement, and then said, "We
shall see!" Soon after a boy from her house came running into one of
the cafés on the quay, which Economos frequented, and said that the
Capsina wished to see him immediately.
Economos seemed disposed to finish his game of draughts, but his
opponent, no other than the rejected Christos, who was getting the
worst of it, rose at once, and swept the men back into their box.
"When the Capsina calls for us we go," he remarked, laconically.
"And when she sends you away you go also, but elsewhere," remarked
Economos, who had heard of Christos's dismissal, and with this Parthian
shot left the café in a roar.
The elder Christos was also with the Capsina, and when Economos entered
she rose.
"You are doing what is right," she said, shaking hands, "and I am with
you. So," and she looked severely at her uncle--"so will Christos
Capsas be. Sit down. There is wine for you."
Then turning to Tombazes:
"It is quite out of the question not to have a war fund," she said. "On
the mainland half of all that is taken goes to it, and the other half,
remember, is divided among far more men in proportion to the prizes
than we have here. Good God, man!" and she turned to Christos, "how is
it possible that you did not see this? And you tell me you were going
to vote with the primates. How is the war to be carried on thus? Is
the war an affair of a day or two, to last no longer than an autumn's
vintage? Already, you tell me, the national treasury is empty. Have you
finished the war? for if so, indeed I have not heard the result; or how
will you pay the men for the next cruise? How do the numbers go on the
question? There are four of us here who will of course vote for the
fund."
Tombazes appeared somewhat timorous.
"Capsina," he said, "it is not my fault, you know; but you must
remember that you are not on the committee."
The Capsina laughed.
"That is not a matter that need trouble you," she said. "We will see
to that to-morrow. The meetings are public, you say. Well, I shall be
there--I mean to be on the committee, and of course I shall be. By
the Virgin! it would be a strange thing if the head of our clan had
no voice in affairs that so concern the island. It is fit also that
Kanaris should be of the committee, for though he is a Psarian yet he
serves on a Hydriot ship, and it is likely that I shall give him the
command of another when I cruise next."
Even the blind faith with which Tombazes regarded the doings of the
Capsina was disposed to question this, and Christos moved uneasily in
his chair.
"Is it not a little irregular," he asked, "that one of another island
should have a voice in the government of Hydra?"
"The war, too, is a little irregular," said the Capsina, "and only
in the matters of this war do I propose he should have a vote. Now,
father," she went on, "here is this man, one of a thousand, as I know
him to be. He and I will fight any two of your ships, and knock them
into faggots for the fire quicker than a man could cut them from a
tree. He is of Psara, it is true, but he serves Hydra. And he shall
have a voice in the matter of the fleet to which he now belongs."
With the admission of the Capsina and Kanaris into the committee, the
conclusion would not be so foregone, so thought Tombazes, as it first
appeared to him. For their admission he pledged himself to vote, and
for the rest he trusted the Capsina.
Long after the others had gone Sophia sat where she was, lost in a
sort of eager contentment. The home-coming, the enthusiastic pride and
affection of her people, stirred in her a chord she had thought and
almost hoped was forever dumb. The wild and splendid adventures of the
last weeks, her ardent championship of her race, the fierce and ever
growing hatred of their detestable masters, had of late made the sum
of her conscious desires. But to-night something of the thrill of home
was on her, more than once she had looked half enviously at the small
ragged girls who stared at her as she passed, who were most likely
never to know anything of the sweet sting of stirring action, but live
inactive lives, with affection for ardor, and the care of the children
for the cause of a nation. Michael lay at her feet, and she wondered
vaguely if it were better to be as she was, or to sit at the feet of a
master and be able to call nothing one's own, but only part of another.
But to think barren thoughts was never the Capsina's habit, and her
mind went forward to the meeting next day.
The meetings were held always on the quay. A table was set, round
which sat the four-and-twenty members of the committee, and the people
were allowed to stand round and listen to the official utterances.
But after the pleasant freshness of hearing Father Nikolas say bitter
things to Tombazes, and Tombazes reply with genial contempt or giggle
only, had worn off, they were not usually very generally attended. But
this morning, an hour before the appointed time, the end of the quay,
where the meetings were held, began to fill, chairs and benches were
in requisition, and Sachturi's father, the miser of Hydra, by report
the richest man of the place, had given two piasters for a seat, which
in itself constituted an epoch in the history of finance. By degrees
the members of the committee took their places, Tombazes looked round
with ill-concealed dismay at the absence of the Capsina, and called for
silence. The silence was interrupted by a clear voice.
"Michael, Michael," it said, "come, boy, we are very late." And from
the end of the quay came the Capsina, attended by Michael and Kanaris.
She walked quickly up through the crowd, which made way for her right
and left, stopping now and then to speak to some friend she had not yet
seen, and still round the table the silence continued.
Father Nikolas broke it.
"The meeting has been summoned," he said, bitterly. "Am I to suppose it
has been summoned for any purpose?"
But Tombazes had his eyes fixed on the Capsina.
"Is the meeting adjourned?" asked Father Nikolas, and the chairman
smiled.
The Capsina by this time had made her way up to the table and looked
round.
"A chair," she said. "Two chairs. Kanaris, sit by me, please."
She had chosen her place between old Christos and Sachturi, and the two
parted, making room for the chairs. Kanaris sat down in obedience to a
gesture from her, but she remained standing.
"I have a word to say," she began, abruptly. "Since the clan of Capsas
has been in this island, the head of the clan has always had a voice in
all national affairs. I have been prevented from attending the former
meetings of this particular assembly, because I was perhaps better
employed in chasing and capturing Turkish ships. And as head of the
clan I take my seat here."
For another moment there was dead silence, and Father Nikolas, in
answer, it would appear, to hints from his neighbors, stood up.
"This matter is one on which the vote of the committee is required," he
said; "for, as I understand, by its original constitution it possessed
the power of adding to its numbers. For myself--"
But Sophia interrupted him.
"Does any one here, besides Father Nikolas," she said, "oppose my
election?"
"I did not say--" began Father Nikolas.
"No, father, because I made bold to interrupt you," remarked the
Capsina, with dangerous suavity. Then, turning in her place, "This
committee, I am told, was elected by the people of Hydra. There is a
candidate for election. The chairman shall give you the name."
"The Capsina is a candidate for election," said Tombazes.
Among the primates there was a faint show of opposition. Father Nikolas
passed a whispered consultation to his colleagues, and after some delay
eight of them, amid derisive yells from the people, voted against her,
but her election was thus carried by sixteen to eight. But there was
greater bitterness in store for Father Nikolas.
The Capsina again rose, and the shouts died down.
"I have first," she said, "to make a report to the admiral of the
Hydriot fleet, to which I belong, as to the doings of my crew and
myself. We sailed, as you know, perhaps a little independently, but
what we have done we have done for this island. On the second day
of my expedition we sank a Turkish vessel, which was cruising for
conscription in the harbor at Melos, with all on board. Perhaps some
were picked up, but I do not know. On the eighth day we captured a
cruiser off Astra, and Kanaris took her into Nauplia, where she will
now enter the service of the Greek fleet. On the twelfth day we sank
a corvette off the southern cape. There was a heavy sea running, and
she went to pieces on the rocks. We have also taken a certain amount of
prize-money, the disposition of which I will speak of later. But first
there is another matter. Kanaris is by birth a Psarian, but he serves
on my ship, and he is willing to continue to serve in the Hydriot
squadron. It is right that he should have a voice in the affairs of
our expeditions, for I tell you plainly if any man could sail a ship
between the two Wolf rocks of Hydra, he is that man. He has been taken
into the most intimate councils of the central revolutionary committee,
and it is not fit that he should be without a voice here. Also before
long he will be in command of the _Sophia_, when a new ship I am
building is ready. Father Nikolas will now be good enough to tell us
his reasons for his opposing my candidate."
Father Nikolas started as if he had been stung, but then recovering
himself, "The Capsina has already stated them," he said. "This man--I
did not catch his name--"
"If you reflect," said the Capsina, sternly, "I think you will remember
that you did."
Father Nikolas looked round with a wild eye.
"This man," he continued, "is a Psarian. Is that not sufficient reason
why he should find no place in a Hydriot assembly?"
"Surely not, father," said the Capsina, "for you, if I mistake not, are
by birth a Spetziot; yet who, on that ground, would seek to exclude you
from the assembly?"
"The cases are not similar," said Nikolas. "Thirty years ago my father
settled here, while it is but yesterday that this Kanaris--"
"I was waiting for that," remarked the Capsina, absently.
A sound came from the chairman almost exactly as if somebody sitting
in his place had giggled, and then tried unsuccessfully to convert the
noise into a cough, and Father Nikolas peered at him with wrinkled,
puckered eyes.
"I will continue," he said, after a pause in which he had eyed
Tombazes, who sat shaking with inward laughter, yet not venturing to
meet his eye for fear of an explosion. "For ten years I have sat in the
assembly of primates, and any dissatisfaction with my seat there should
have been expressed thirty years ago, some years, in fact, before she
who is now expressing it was born."
The Capsina smiled.
"I think I said that no one would think of expressing, or even
perhaps--well, of expressing dissatisfaction," she replied, "and I must
object to your putting into my mouth the exact opposite of what you
really heard from me."
"Your words implied what I have said," retorted Nikolas, getting white
and angry.
"Such is not the case," said the Capsina. "If I were you, I should be
less ready to find malignant meanings in words which bear none."
Here Tombazes interfered.
"Father Nikolas," he said, "we are here to discuss matters of national
import, and I do not see that you are contributing to them. Kanaris,
let me remind you, is a candidate for election."
Kanaris himself all this time was sitting quietly between the Capsina
and Sachturi, listening without the least evidence of discomposure to
all that was being said. He smiled when Nikolas suddenly blurted out
the name of which he was ignorant, but otherwise seemed like a man who
supports the hearing of a twice-told tale with extreme politeness. He
was rather tall, strongly built, with great square shoulders, and his
dress was studiously neat and well cared for. His hair, falling, after
the custom of the day, on to his shoulders, was neatly trimmed, and his
chin very smoothly shaven. In his hand he held a string of amber beads,
which he passed to and fro like a man seated at a café.
Now, however popular the election of the Capsina had been with the
people, it was soon clear to her that there was no such unanimity about
Kanaris. The islanders were conservative and isolated folk, and they
viewed with jealousy and resentment anything like interference on the
part of others in their affairs. But for the adoring affection in
which they held the girl, without doubt Nikolas's party would have won
the day, and, quick as thought, the Capsina determined to make use of
the people's championship of herself to gain her ends. She was of a
quick tongue, and for the next ten minutes she concentrated the acidity
of Nikolas on herself, provoking him by a hundred little stinging
sayings, and drawing his attack off from the debate on to herself. At
length he turned on her full.
"Already we see the effect of having a woman in our councils," he said.
"An hour has passed, and instead of settling affairs of moment our
debate is concerned with the management of the monastery rain-water
and the color of my hair. This may be useful; I hope it is. But in
no way do I see how it bears upon the conduct of the fleet. And it
is intolerable that I should be thus exposed in the sight of you all
to the wanton insults of this girl." His anger suddenly flashed out.
"By the Virgin," he cried, "it is not to be stood! It was an ill day
for the clan, let me tell them, when the headship passed into hands
like that. I will not submit to this. A Hydriot is she, and where is
the husband to whom she was betrothed? I tell you she cares nothing
for Hydra, nor for the war, nor for any of you, but only for her own
foolhardy, headstrong will."
"Is the Father Nikolas proposing that I should now marry Christos
Capsas?" asked Sophia. "That is a fine thing for a primate to say, or
is it not since he came to Hydra that my cousin Christos chose a wife
for himself?"
Father Nikolas's face expressed an incredible deal of hatred and
malice. "This must be stopped," he said; "this woman or I leave the
assembly."
"The remedy lies with Father Nikolas," said the Capsina.
Nikolas paused for a moment: his mouth was dry with anger.
"It is not so long ago," he said, "that I heard Hydra proclaimed an
independent state, and subject to none. Show me anything more farcical
than that! Free, are we? Then who is this who forces herself and her
creatures into our assembly? Are we to be the slaves of a woman, or
her clan? I, for my part, will be dictated to and insulted by no man,
or woman either. The clan of Capsas--who are the clan of Capsas? They
are leagued together for their own self-seeking ends."
This was just what Sophia was waiting for. She sprang to her feet, and,
turning to the people, "Clan of Capsas!" she cried. "You of the clan!"
In an instant at the clan cry there was a scene of wildest confusion.
Old Christos jumped up; Anastasi overturned his chair and stood on the
other side of Sophia; Michael raged furiously about in the ecstasy of
excitement, and from the crowd that stood round men sprang forward,
taking their places in rows behind the Capsina till their ranks
stretched half-way down the quay.
Then the Capsina called: "The clan of Capsas is with me?"
And a great shout went up. "It is with you."
She turned to Father Nikolas.
"If you or any other have any quarrel with the clan, name it," she said.
Father Nikolas looked round, but found blank faces only.
"I have no quarrel with the clan," he said, and his voice was the
pattern of ill-grace.
"Then," said Sophia, "again I propose Kanaris as a member of this
committee."
The appeal to the clan had exactly the effect Sophia intended. It
divided the committee up into those for the clan and those against
it, and that strong and cheerful phalanx seemed to be terrorizing to
waverers. Amid dead silence the votes were given in and counted, and
Tombazes announced that Kanaris was elected by sixteen votes to nine.
The business of the war-fund then came before them, and this Sophia
opened by handing over to Tombazes eight hundred Turkish pounds,
that being half of the prizes of her cruise. Economos, who had been
instructed by the Capsina, laid before Tombazes a similar proportion of
his takings, and Sachturi and Pinotzi followed the lead.
Some amusement was then caused by Anastasi Capsas, who had been
unlucky in the late cruise, gravely presenting to Tombazes the sum of
twenty-five piasters, for all that he had taken was a small Turkish
rowing-boat which he found drifting after Sachturi's capture of the
Turkish ship, and which he had subsequently sold for fifty. Father
Nikolas, it was noticed, did not join in the laugh. But a moment
afterwards he rose.
"Perhaps the Capsina or the chairman will explain what is meant by the
war-fund," he said. "At present I know of no such fund."
The Capsina rose.
"I hear that yesterday there was debate on this matter," she said, "and
that Economos proposed that part of the booty taken should be given to
a war-fund. Now it is true that nothing was said about this before the
last cruise, but I understand that the money raised has been exhausted,
and unless you consider that the war is over, I would wish to know
how you intend to equip the ships for the next cruise. Or has Hydra
tired of the war? Some of our ships have been lucky: Father Nikolas, I
believe, took a valuable prize. It is easy, then, for him to defray the
expenses of his ship for the next voyage. But with Anastasi Capsas, how
will it be? For, indeed, fifty piasters will not go far as the wages of
sixty men."
She paused a moment, and went on with growing earnestness.
"Let us be sensible," she said, "and look things between the eyes, as
a man looks before he strikes, and not pretend there are no obstacles
in the path. We have decided, God be thanked, to be free. This freedom
can only be bought dearly, at the cost of lives and money, and by the
output of all our strength. We are not fighting to enrich ourselves.
Only the short-sighted can fail to see this, and the short-sighted
do not make good counsellors. Can any one tell me how we are to man
ships for the next cruise, how get powder, how make repairs to our
ships? On the mainland they are contributing one-half of all that is
taken to the service of the war. Would it become us to ask for funds
from them--for, indeed, they are sore pressed for money, and many
of them serve without pay or reward. What has Nikolas Vidalis got
for his ten years' work, journeying, scheming, risking his all every
day? This, as he himself said, the right to serve his country! Is he
not wise to count that more worth having than many piasters? Have you
heard what happened to the second ship from Kalamata, which put into
Nauplia on its way to Constantinople, to bring back men and arms? Two
boys followed it out into the bay at Nauplia, ran their caique into
the stern, set fire to it, and saved themselves in their small boat.
One was a son of Petrobey, the other was Mitsos Codones, the nephew of
Nikolas; him I have never seen, but there is a song about the boys'
deed which the folk sing. There is their reward, and where should they
look for a better? Are we mercenaries? Do we serve another country, not
our own? Is the freedom of our country to be weighed against money? But
this I would propose--that after our next cruise, should anything of
what we give now be left over when the men are paid and the ships fit
for use again, let that, if you will, be divided. Only let there never
be a ship which cannot go to sea, or is ill-equipped for want of money,
which might have been ready had not we taken it for ourselves. Now, if
there is aught to say against this, let us hear it. For me, I vote for
the war-fund to be made up of half the takings of each ship."
The Capsina's speech won the day, and even a few of the primates went
over to her side, leaving, however, a more malignant minority. At the
end of the meeting the money was collected, and the Capsina was fairly
satisfied with her morning's work.
It was two days after this that word was brought to Hydra by a vessel
of Chios, that Germanos, Archbishop of Patros, had need of Economos.
The latter had friends and relations in Misolonghi, and as there was a
strong garrison of Turks there, it seemed wiser to get the soundings
of the place, so said the archbishop, from a man who would move about
unsuspected. Therefore, if his work in Hydra was over, let him come.
Late that afternoon he had gone to see the Capsina, in order to find
out whether any of her vessels were by chance going to Nauplia or some
mainland port, and could put him on his way.
"For my work here is finished, or so I think," he said. "Only this
morning, indeed, I met Father Nikolas, who alone has been more
detrimental to the cause than even the Turks; but he seemed most
friendly to me, and regretted that I was going."
The Capsina was combing out Michael's ruff after his bath, and was
not attending very closely. But at these words she left the comb in
Michael's hair and looked up.
"What is that?" she said.
"I met Father Nikolas an hour ago," said Economos; "he thanked me for
all I had done here, and said that he had hoped I was stopping longer.
In fact, I think he has quite withdrawn all his opposition."
Now the Capsina had excellently sure reason for knowing that the
primate still harbored the bitterest grudge against Economos for having
first proposed and eventually carrying the institution of the war-fund,
and her next question seemed at first strangely irrelevant.
"Do you walk armed?" she asked.
"Not in Hydra."
She drew the comb out of Michael's ruff, and clapped her hands. The
servant came in at the summons.
"I want to see Kanaris," she said. "Send for him at once."
She stood silent a moment or two, until the servant had left the room,
and then turned to Economos.
"I don't really know what to say to you," she remarked, "or how to
account for my own feelings. But it is borne in upon me that you are
in danger. Nikolas friendly and genial to you! It is not in the man.
He is genial to none. That he should be genial to you of all men is
impossible. Afterwards I will tell you why. Come, what did he say to
you?"
"He asked me to sup with him this evening," said Economos, "and I told
him that for aught I knew I might be gone before."
"He asked you to sup with him?" said the Capsina, frowning. "God send
us understanding and charity! But really--" and she broke off, still
frowning. Then after a pause:
"Look you," she said, "I do not know much of Father Nikolas, but this
I know, that you can have no enemy more bitter. He took, so you tell
me, a valuable prize in this last cruise. It is you, so he thinks, who
has deprived him of half of it, and certainly it is you and I between
us who have done so. Now the man has good things in him. I am trying,
you understand, to put together these good things, his certain hatred
of you, and his asking you to supper. Did you notice how he winced when
at the meeting the other day I said: 'You are a Spetziot, but _for that
reason_ we would not turn you out of our assembly,' I think he knew
what I meant, though my words can have meant nothing but what they
seemed to say, except to him, Kanaris, and to me. It is this: He is a
primate, but he is married, and fifteen years ago the Turks carried off
his wife, who is a cousin of Kanaris, from Spetzas. Now I believe that
the one aim of his life is to bring her back. She is in Athens, and
he knows where. Man, you have taken half the ransom out of his closed
pocket, I may say. Does he love you much? And if a Spetziot does not
love he hates, and when he hates he kills. Why, then, did he ask you to
supper?"
"You mean, he intended to kill me?"
"Yes, I mean that," said the Capsina.
"The treacherous villain--"
"No doubt, but think what you have done. Now, without unreasonable risk
to you, I want to be certain about this, for Nikolas, I know, will give
trouble. I am going to send you off to-night in the _Sophia_, to be
landed at Kranidi. But I want you to leave this house alone, and walk
down to the quay alone. There is not much danger; your way lies through
the streets, and, at worst, if my guess about Nikolas is right, he will
try to have you knifed. He dare not have you shot in the town, but a
man's throat can be cut quietly. Man, what are you afraid of? Indeed,
I wish I was you. But here is Kanaris. Kanaris, did you see or speak
to any one on your way up here?"
"Yes, to Dimitri, the servant of Nikolas. He was coming out of a shop."
"What shop?"
"Vasto's shop."
"They sell knives in Vasto's shop," remarked the Capsina. "Well, what
did he say to you?"
"He asked if Economos was with you. And I said that I thought so."
"That is, then, very pretty. Kanaris, you are to take Economos over to
Kranidi to-night. He will leave this house in an hour exactly. You will
wait for him in that dark corner by Christos's house, and keep your
eyes open. Why? Because Dimitri will not be far off, and he will try
to knife him. Dimitri, I am afraid, must be shot. Economos will do the
shooting, but he must not shoot towards the dark corner of Christos's
house, or there may be a Kanaris the less. Mind that, Economos. If he
shoots not straight, Dimitri will probably run down towards the quay,
where he will mix with the crowd. It shall then be Kanaris's business
to stop him. Or he may run up here. It shall then be my business."
Presently after Kanaris went down to the harbor to get the _Sophia_
ready for sea. With a fair wind it was only two hours to Kranidi. The
navigation was simple: a dozen men could work the ship, and they would
be back before morning.
The Capsina took down two pistols, and proceeded to tell Economos what
he was to do. He must walk straight to the quay and quickly. He must
stop to speak to no man, and not fire unless attacked. She would be in
the shadow of her own gate, Kanaris at the lower end of the street,
where it opened on to the quay, so that should any attempt be made on
his life the assassin would be hemmed in on both sides.
"Yet, yet," she said, hesitating, "ought I to warn Nikolas that I know?
It seems a Turkish thing to do, to set a trap for a man. Really, I am
afraid I should do the same to you if I were he, only I think I should
have the grace to kill you myself, for I cannot think I would have my
dirty work done for me, and I should not be such a fool as to ask you
to supper. I don't want this wretched Dimitri to be killed--I wonder
what Nikolas has paid him? Yes, it shall be so; one who attacks in the
dark for no quarrel of his own will be ever a coward. So shoot in the
air, only to show you are armed, and leave Dimitri to me."
At the end of the hour Economos rose to go. The Capsina went with him
to the gate, and from the shadow looked cautiously out down the road.
The far end of it, a hundred and fifty yards off, opened on to the
brightly lighted quay, and against the glare she saw the figure of a
man silhouetted by the long creeper-covered wall to the right of the
road.
"Yes, that is Dimitri," she whispered. "Begone, and God-speed. Don't
shoot, except to save your own life. Run rather."
She stepped back under cover of her gate, and looked after Economos.
He had not gone more than twenty yards when she heard a quick but
shuffling step coming down towards her from above, and, looking up,
saw Father Nikolas. Standing as she did, in a shadowed embrasure, he
passed her by unnoticed, and went swiftly and silently across the
road, and waited in the shadow of the opposite wall. He had passed so
close to her that she could almost have touched him. Then for a moment
there was silence, save only for the sounds of life on the quay and
the rapid step of Economos, getting fainter every second. Then came a
sudden scuffle, a shot, and the steps of a running man getting louder
every moment. She was just about to step out and stop him, when Father
Nikolas advanced from opposite. The man gave a little sobbing cry of
fright, till he saw who it was.
"You have failed," said Nikolas, in a low voice.
"Yes, and may the curses of all the saints be upon you!" cried Dimitri.
"You told me he went unarmed. You told me--Ah, God! who is that?"
The Capsina stepped out of the shadow.
"Yes, he has failed," she said. "And you, too, have failed. This is a
fine thing for the Church of Hydra. Man, stop where you are. Not a step
nearer. I, too, am armed. By God," she exclaimed, suddenly, rising an
octave of passion and contempt, and throwing her pistol over the gate
into her garden, "come a step nearer if you dare, you or your hired
assassin--I am unarmed. You dare not, you dare not commit your murders
yourself, you low, sneaking blackguard, who would kill men under the
guise of friendship. You asked Economos to supper to-night, regretting
he was going so soon: that would have been the surest way! Instead, you
send another to cut his throat in the dark. You have failed," and she
laughed loud, but without merriment. "A fine, noble priest are you!
Hydra is proud of you, the clan delights in you! In the name of the
clan I pay you my homage and my reverence."
Not a word said Father Nikolas.
"So you have no reply ready," she went on. "Indeed, I do not wonder.
And for you, Dimitri, is it not shame that you would do the bidding of
a man like this? Now, tell me at once, what did he give you for this?"
"If you dare tell--" whispered Nikolas.
"Oho! So there is perhaps something even more splendid and noble to
come! If you dare _not_ tell, rather," said Sophia. "Quick, man, tell
me quickly."
The man fell on his knees.
"Capsina, I dare not tell you all," he said. "But I have a disgraceful
secret, and Father Nikolas knew it. He threatened me with exposure."
The Capsina turned to Nikolas.
"So--this grows dirtier and more ugly, and even more foolish than I
thought, for I did you too much justice. Devil I knew you were, but I
gave you the credit for being cunning. It is not very safe for a man
like you to threaten exposure, is it?"
And she turned and went a step nearer to him.
Father Nikolas, in a sudden frenzy, ran a couple of steps towards her,
as if he would have seized her. For answer she struck him in the face.
"That for you," she said, suddenly flaming again into passion--"that
for you; go and tell the primates that I have struck a priest. It is
sacrilege, I believe, and never was I more satisfied with a deed. Run,
tell them how I have struck you, and get me punished. Sacrilege? Is it
not sacrilege when a man like you shows the people the blessed body
and blood? You are afraid of man, it seems--for you dared not touch
Economos yourself--but it seems you hold God in contempt. You living
lie, you beast! Stand still and listen."
And she told Dimitri the story of Nikolas's marriage. Then, turning
again: "So that is quits," said she, "between you."
Then to Nikolas: "Now go," she said, "and remember you are in the
hollow of my hand. Will you come at night and try to kill me? I think
not."
Nikolas turned and went without a word.
The Capsina saw him disappear, and then spoke to Dimitri.
"You poor, wretched creature!" she said. "You have had a lesson
to-night, I am thinking. Go down on your knees--not to me, but to the
blessed Jesus. I forgive you? That is no word from one man to another.
Go to the church, man, or to your home, or even here, and be sorry."
"Capsina! oh Capsina!" sobbed the man.
Sophia felt strangely moved, and she looked at him with glistening eyes.
"You poor devil! oh, you poor devil!" she said. "Just go by yourself
alone somewhere and think how great a brute you are. Indeed, you are
not a fine man, and I say this with no anger, but with very much pity.
You had no grudge against Economos. Yet because you were afraid you
would do this thing. Thank God that your fear saved you, your miserable
fear of an ounce of lead. What stuff are you made of, man? What can
matter less than whether you live or die? Yet it matters very much how
you live and how you die. There, shake hands and go."