PLANS
From that day began the real work of the expedition. Grass-cutting in a
burning sun--relieved by the fact that they found a water source from
which they could not only drink, but refill the tanks on board--gave
place to shifting moorings, exploring house after house of the town,
sometimes finding nothing, sometimes jars, drinking-cups, small figures
of earthenware more or less mutilated, and metal ornaments. In the
fifteenth house they found a marble Hermes with winged feet, so light
and delicate that, standing on the deck of the _Lorna_, he seemed on
the point of taking flight towards the sun.
Even Bowler and his companions admired this "little chap with the
sparrow wings on his feet." To Martia the thought came with a pang that
she would have to part with him. All these things, by the contract,
were Behrens', to be turned into money, and, long though she had known
Behrens, she well knew that this thing was too valuable to be thought
of as a gift.
Bad weather had interrupted them for a few days, and it was now over
three weeks since the morning of Glastonbury's first descent. They had
explored the Street of Victory all but the last six houses--that is
to say, the part of it that promised treasure--and there remained the
Street of the Winds and the Street of Hermes, which they had not even
touched.
Nor would they touch them. Although they did not speak of breaking off
work and going home they spoke quite definitely on the other point; at
least Sam did, the others agreeing.
"Glastonbury is showing signs of being used up," said Sam. "And between
you and me and the stern post I don't propose hunting through the rest
of this town. Besides, we're pretty full up; every locker, not to
speak of the sail-room, is stuffed with jars in straw, and the spare
bunks won't hold any more statuary. As it is, you've had to put that
discobolus thing in the lazarette. There's the bath-room you can stuff
a few things into, and we might put anything that's not breakable in
the ballast. There's room here in the cabin; but the bother is, the
stuff has to be hidden, for we've got to put into Genoa on the way
back--and there's the Customs. They haven't got to see any of those
things, for the Italians are pretty strict about works of art, and they
might think we'd taken them from some Italian island or territory.
Anyhow, they'd stop them and make inquiries, and we'd have to say where
we pinched them, and then the Greek Government would be notified. Only
for all that we might take a deck cargo."
"But why put into Genoa?" asked Martia. "Why not go straight home or
stop at some French port?"
"We've salted Genoa," replied the skipper of the _Lorna_. "They know
us there. They know us as mad English cruising about for fun, and they
won't bother to more than come on board and look at the papers and
smoke a cigarette, whereas if I put into a French or any other port
where we aren't known the Frogs would come on board and turn things
over. The French Customs are beastly. They aren't so keen on works of
art as the Italians, but they'd be down on us for not declaring them.
See? As for going straight home without touching anywhere, I can't.
Even if we fill up with water here, it's not enough for the run home.
We may be held up in the Bay by bad weather. One never knows."
"When do you propose to start off?" asked Bobby.
"When we've done with the last of these houses and fished up that
Victory thing in the street," replied Sam. "That'll give us a fuller
cargo than we want."
It was in the last house, four days later, that they brought up the
crown of the expedition--a marble Aphrodite, small, like all the
statuary of Hyalos, not more than four feet from crown to base, but
exquisite as a dream. The hands were folded on the breast, recalling
the attitude of Botticelli's Venus rising from the sea. Unlike the
Venus of Milo, she was entire, without loss of a finger of her perfect
hands or a toe of the feet that rested on a plinth suggestive of a
breaking wave.
The after cabin, which was Martia's, had two bunks, an upper and a
lower. The Aphrodite was placed in the lower, fastened securely with
lashings, and covered with a bunk coverlet.
"To-morrow," said Sam, "we'll pick up those Victory fragments in the
street, and the day after, if this wind holds, we'll put out for home."
But things were not to be as easy as that.