"Yes, thou hast thrown something over the King's dinner."
"What?"
"A spell. But no matter. Believe me, my poor milord, Hadgi-Stavros is a
greater sorcerer than thou art. I am going to serve his dinner. I will
have my part of it, but thou shalt not taste it."
"Great good may it do thee!"
He left me before the fire, placing me in the care of a dozen brigands
who were crunching black bread and bitter olives. These Spartans kept me
company for an hour or two. They attended to my fire with the
watchfulness of sick nurses. If, at times, I attempted to drag myself a
little further away from my torture they cried out: "Take care, thou
wilt freeze!" And they pushed me toward the flames with heavy blows of
the burning brushwood. My back was covered with red spots, my skin was
raised in blisters, my eye-lashes had succumbed to the heat of the fire,
my hair exhaled an odor of burning horn, and yet I rubbed my hands in
glee at the thought of the King eating my cooking and that something
startling would happen upon Parnassus before night.
Very soon Hadgi-Stavros' men re-appeared in the camp, stomachs filled,
eyes shining, faces smiling. "Go on!" I thought, "your joy and your
health will soon fall like a mask, and you will curse each mouthful of
the feast which I seasoned for you!" The celebrated poisoner, Locuste,
must have passed some very pleasant moments during her life. When one
has reason to hate men, it is pleasure enough to see a vigorous being
who goes, who comes, who laughs, who sings, while carrying in his
intestines a seed of death which will spring up and devour him. It is a
little like the same joy a good doctor experiences at the sight of a
dying man whom he is able to bring back to life. Locuste used medicine
inversely, as I did.
My malevolent reflections were interrupted by a singular tumult. The
dogs barked in chorus, and a messenger, out of breath, appeared on the
plateau with the whole pack at his heels. It was Dimitri, the son of
Christodule. Some stones thrown by the bandits freed him from his
escort. He shouted at the top of his lungs: "The King! I must speak to
the King!" When he was about twenty steps from us, I called to him in a
doleful tone. He was terrified at the state in which he found me, and he
cried out: "The fools! Poor girl!"
"My good Dimitri!" I said to him, "where dost thou come from? Will my
ransom be paid?"
"The ransom is well at stake, but fear nothing, I bring good news. Good
for you, bad for me, for him, for her, for everybody! I must see
Hadgi-Stavros. There is not a moment to lose. Until I come back, suffer
no one to do you any harm; she would die for it! You hear, you
wretches; do not touch milord. For your life. The King would cut you in
pieces. Conduct me to the King!"
The world is such that a man who speaks as a master is almost sure of
being obeyed. There was so much authority in the voice of this servant,
and his passion expressed itself in a tone so imperious that my guards,
astonished and stupefied, forgot to keep me near the fire. I crept some
distance away, and deliciously reposed upon the cold rock, until
Hadgi-Stavros' arrival. He appeared not less agitated than Dimitri. He
took me in his arms like a sick child, and carried me, without stopping,
to that fatal chamber where Vasile was buried. He laid me on his own
carpet with maternal solicitude; he stepped back and looked at me with a
curious mixture of hate and pity. He said to Dimitri: "My child, this is
the first time that I have left such a crime unpunished. He killed
Vasile, that was nothing. He would have assassinated me, I pardoned him.
But he robbed me, the scamp! Eighty thousand francs less in Photini's
dowry! I sought for a punishment equal to his crime. Oh, rest easy! I
should have found it. Unhappy that I am! Why did I not restrain my
anger? I have treated him harshly. And she will bear the penalty. If she
receives two blows of the stick upon her little feet I shall never see
her again. Men do not die of it, but a woman, a child of fifteen!"
He cleared the place of all the men who were crowding around us. He
gently unwound the bloody bandages which enveloped my wounds. He sent
his pipe-bearer for the balm of Ludgi-Bey. He seated himself on the
damp grass in front of me, he took my feet in his hands and looked at
the wounds. An almost incredible thing to tell! There were tears in his
eyes!
"Poor child!" he said, "you have suffered cruelly. Pardon me. I am an
old brute, a wolf of the mountain, a Palikar. I was trained in ferocity
from twenty years of age. But you see that my heart is good, since I
regret what I have done. I am more unhappy than you, because your eyes
are dry and I weep. I shall set you at liberty without a moment's delay,
or rather, no, you cannot go away thus. I will cure you first. The balm
is a sovereign remedy. I will care for you as for a son. Health shall
return quickly. You must be able to walk to-morrow. She must not remain
a day longer in your friend's hands. In the name of Heaven tell no one
of our quarrel to-day! You know that I do not hate you! I have said so
often. I sympathized with you and I gave you my confidence. I told you
my most sacred secrets. Do you not remember that we were friends until
Vasile's death? An instant's anger must not make you forget twelve days
of good treatment. You would not wish to break a father's heart. You are
an honest young man; your friend ought to be good like you."
"But who, then?"
"Who? That cursed Harris! that devilish American! that execrable pirate!
that kidnapper of children! that assassin of young girls! that wretch
whom I wish I held with you so that I could crush you in my hands, grind
you together, and scatter your dust to the winds of my mountains! You
are all the same, Europeans, a race of traitors, who dare not attack
men, and who have courage to fight only against children. Read what he
has written me and tell me if there are tortures cruel enough to
chastise a crime like his!"
He savagely hurled a crumpled letter at me. I instantly recognized the
writing, and I read:
"Sunday, May 11, on board The Fancy, Bay of Salamis.
"Hadgi-Stavros:
"Photini is on board under guard of four American cannons. I shall
hold her as hostage as long as Hermann Schultz is prisoner. As thou
treatest my friend, so shall I treat thy daughter. She shall pay
hair for hair, tooth for tooth, head for head. Reply to me without
delay, otherwise I shall come to see thee!
"John Harris."
On reading this letter I could not restrain my joy. "The good Harris!" I
shouted, "I who accused him! But explain, Dimitri, why he has not
rescued me sooner?"
"He has been away, Mr. Hermann; he was chasing pirates. He returned
yesterday morning, unfortunately for us. Why did he not remain away!"
"Excellent Harris! He has not lost a single day. But where did he kidnap
the daughter of this old scamp?"
"At our house, M. Hermann. You know her, Photini. You have dined more
than once with her."
The Daughter of the King of the Mountains was then that boarding-school
miss with the flat nose, who sighed for John Harris.
I concluded from this that the abduction had been accomplished without
violence.
The pipe-bearer now came up with a package of linen and a bottle filled
with yellow pomade. The King dressed my feet with practiced touch, and I
experienced within an hour a certain relief. Hadgi-Stavros was, at this
moment, a fine subject for the study of psychology. He had as much
brutality in his eyes as delicacy in his touch. He unwound the bandages
from my instep so gently that I scarcely felt it; but his glance said:
"If I could only strangle thee!" He took out the pins as adroitly as a
woman; but with what pleasure would he have thrust his cangiar into me.
When he had adjusted the bandages, he stretched out his clenched fists
and savagely roared:
"I am no longer a King, since I must refrain from gratifying my anger!
I, who have always commanded, I obey a threat! He, who has made millions
of men tremble, is afraid! They will boast of it, without doubt; they
will tell the whole world of it; Oh! for the means to silence those
European gossips! They will publish it in their papers, perhaps even in
their novels. Why did I marry? Ought such a man to have children? I was
born to fight soldiers and not to rear up little girls! Thunder is not
for children; cannons are not for children. If they were, they would no
longer fear the thunder-bolts and cannon-balls. This John Harris may
well laugh at me! What if I should declare war against him? What if I
should capture his ship by force? I have attacked many, when I was a
pirate, and twenty such cannons did not trouble me. But my daughter was
not on board. Dear little one! You know her then, Monsieur Hermann? Why
did you not tell me that you boarded with Christodule? I would have
asked no ransom; I would have released you instantly, for love of
Photini. Truly, I wish that she knew your language. She will be a
princess in Germany, some day or other. Is it not true that she will
make a beautiful Princess? I think so! Since you know her you will
forbid your friend to do her any harm. Could you have the heart to see a
tear fall from those dear eyes? She has never harmed you, the poor
innocent! If anyone ought to expiate your sufferings, it is I. Tell M.
John Harris that you bruised your feet on the paths; you may then do me
any harm you choose."
Dimitri stopped this torrent of words. "It is very unfortunate that M.
Hermann is wounded. Photini is not safe in the midst of those heretics,
and I know M. Harris: he is capable of anything!"
The King scowled. Suspicions of a lover entered the father's heart. "Be
off, then," he said to me; "I will carry you if necessary to the foot of
the mountain; you can find, in some village, a horse, a carriage, a
litter; I will furnish everything needed. But let him know, that from
to-day, you are free, and swear to me, on the head of your mother, that
you will tell no one of the injury which has been done you?"
I scarcely knew how I could endure the fatigues of the journey; but
anything seemed preferable to the company of my tormentors. I feared
that a new obstacle might arise before I was free. I said to the King:
"Let us start! I swear to you by all I hold most sacred, that they shall
not touch a hair of your daughter's head!"
He raised me in his arms, threw me over his shoulder, and mounted the
staircase to his cabinet. The entire band rushed out in front of him and
barred our passage. Moustakas, livid as a man attacked with cholera,
said to him: "Where art thou going? The German has thrown a spell over
the food. We are suffering all the pains of hell. We are frightfully
ill, through his fault, and we wish to see him die."
My hopes were dashed to the ground. Dimitri's arrival; John Harris'
providential interference; Hadgi-Stavros' change of front; the
humiliation of that superb head to the feet of his prisoner; so many
events, crowded into a quarter of an hour, had turned my head; I had
already forgotten the past, and I had rashly begun to count on the
future.
At the sight of Moustakas, I remembered the poison. I felt that any
moment might precipitate a fearful event. I clung to the King of the
Mountains, I wound my arms around his neck, I begged him to carry me
away without delay. "It will redound to thy glory," I said to him.
"Prove to these savages that thou art King! Do not reply! words are
useless. Let us pass over their bodies. Thou knowest thyself what
interest thou hast in saving me. Thy daughter loves John Harris; I am
sure of it, she confessed it to me!"
"Wait!" he replied. "Let us pass first! we can talk later."
He laid me carefully down on the ground, and rushed, with clenched
fists, into the midst of the bandits. "You are fools!" he shouted. "The
first one who touches milord will answer to me. What spell do you say he
has cast? I ate with you; am I ill? Let me pass! he is an honest man; he
is my friend!"
Suddenly, he changed countenance; his legs gave way under the weight of
his body. He seated himself near me, leaned toward me and said with more
grief than anger:
"Imprudent! Why did you not tell me that you had poisoned us?"
I seized the King's hand; it was cold. His features were convulsed; his
marble-like face became a frightful color. At this sight, my strength
suddenly failed me, and I felt that I was dying. I had nothing more to
hope for in the world; had I not condemned myself, in killing the only
man who had any interest in saving me? My head fell on my breast, and I
sat, helpless, by the side of the livid and shivering old man.
Moustakas and some of the others had, already, stretched out their hands
to seize me and compel me to share their sufferings. Hadgi-Stavros had
no strength to defend me. Occasionally, a terrible hiccough shook the
King, as the wood-cutter's ax shakes an oak a hundred years old. The
bandits were persuaded that he was dying, and that the invincible old
man was about, at last, to be conquered by death. All the ties which
bound them to their chief, bonds of interest, of fear, of hope, and of
gratitude, broke like the threads of a spider's web. The Greeks are the
most restive people in the world. Their inordinate and intemperate
vanity was sometimes subdued, but like a steel ready to rebound. They
knew how, in case of need, to lean upon the strongest, or how to
modestly follow the lead of the ablest, but not how to pardon the master
who had protected and enriched them. For thirty centuries or more, this
nation has been composed of a people, egotistical and jealous, which
only necessity has held together, which inclination separates, and which
no human power could unite entirely.
Hadgi-Stavros learned to his cost that one does not command, with
impunity, sixty Greeks. His authority did not survive an instant longer
than his moral force or his physical vigor. Without mentioning the
wounded men who shook their fists in our faces, while reproaching us for
their sufferings, the able-bodied grouped themselves in front of their
legitimate king, around a huge, brutal peasant, named Coltzida. He was
the most garrulous and most shameless of the band, an impudent blockhead
without talent and without courage; one of those who hide during action,
and who carry the flag after a victory; but in like situations, fortune
favors impudent braggarts. Coltzida, proud of his lungs, heaped insults,
by the score, on Hadgi-Stavros, as a grave-digger heaps the earth on the
grave of a dead man.
"Thou seest," he said, "a wise man, an invincible general, an
all-powerful king, and invulnerable mortal! Thou hast not deserved thy
glory, and we have been far-sighted in trusting ourselves to thee! What
have we gained in thy company? How hast thou served us? Thou hast given
us fifty-four miserable francs a month, a beggarly pittance. Thou hast
fed us on black bread and mouldy cheese which you would not touch, while
thou hast accumulated a fortune and sent ships loaded with gold to
foreign bankers. What benefit have we received from our victories and
for all the blood which we have shed in the mountains? Nothing! thou
hast kept all for thyself, spoils, personal effects, prisoners' ransoms!
It is true that thou hast left us the bayonet thrusts: it is the only
profit of which thou hast not taken thy share. During the two years I
have been with thee, I have received four wounds in the back, and thou
hast not a scar to show! If, at least, thou hadst known how to lead us!
If thou hadst chosen good opportunities, when there was little to risk
and much to gain! Thou hast beaten us; thou hast been our executioner;
thou hast sent us into the wolves' jaws! Thou hast then hastened to be
done with us and to retire us on a pension! Thou wert longing so much to
see us all buried near Vasile that thou deliveredst us to this cursed
lord, who has thrown a spell over our bravest soldiers! But do not hope
to cheat us from our vengeance. I know why thou wishest to have him go
away; he has paid his ransom. But what dost thou wish to do with this
money? Wilt thou carry it away to a foreign country? Thou art sick,
opportunely, my poor Hadgi-Stavros. Milord has not spared thee, thou art
dying also, and it is well! My friends, we are our own masters. We will
no longer obey anyone, we will do whatever pleases us, we will eat the
best, we will drink all of the wine of Aegina, we will burn an entire
forest to cook whole herds, we will pillage the kingdom! we will take
Athens and we will camp in the Palace gardens! You have only to allow
yourselves to be led; I know the best methods! Let us begin by throwing
the old man, with his much loved lord, into the ravine; I will then tell
you what is necessary to do!"
Coltzida's eloquence came near costing us our lives, because his
audience applauded. Hadgi-Stavros' old comrades, ten or a dozen devoted
Palikars, who might have come to his aid, had eaten dessert at his
table: they were also writhing in agony. But a popular orator cannot
elevate himself above his fellows without creating jealousies. When it
became clear that Coltzida proposed to become chief of the band,
Tambouris and some other ambitious ones faced about and ranged
themselves on our side. To a man they liked better the man who knew how
to lead them than this insolent braggart, whose incapacity repelled
them. They urged that the King had not long to live, and that he would
appoint his successor from among the faithful who remained around him.
It was no ordinary affair. The odds were that the capitalists would more
readily ratify Hadgi-Stavros' choice, than endorse a revolutionary
election. Eight or ten voices were raised in our defense. Ours, because
our interests were one. I clung to the King of the Mountains, and he had
one arm around my neck. Tambouris and his fellows put their heads
together; a plan of defense was formed; three men profited by the
uproar to run, with Dimitri, to the arsenal, to get arms and cartridges,
and to lay along the path a train of powder. They came back and
discreetly mixed with the crowd. They formed into two parties; insults
were hurled from one to the other. Our champions, with their backs to
Mary-Ann's chamber, guarded the staircase, they made a rampart of their
bodies for us, and kept the enemy in the King's cabinet. In the
scrimmage, a pistol-shot rung out. A ribbon of fire ran over the ground
and the rock flew up with a fearful noise.
Coltzida and his followers, surprised by the detonation, ran to the
arsenal. Tambouris lost not an instant; he raised Hadgi-Stavros,
descended the staircase in two bounds, laid him in a safe place,
returned, picked me up, carried, and laid me at the King's feet. Our
friends intrenched themselves in the chamber, cut trees, barricaded the
staircase, and organized a defense before Coltzida could return.
Then, we counted our forces. Our army was composed of the King, his two
servants, Tambouris with eight brigands, Dimitri, and myself; in all
fourteen men, of whom three were disabled. The coffee-bearer had been
poisoned also, and he began to show the first rigors of illness. But we
had two guns apiece, and a great supply of cartridges, while the enemy
had no arms nor ammunition except what they carried on their persons.
They possessed the advantage of numbers and point of vantage. We did not
know exactly how many able-bodied men they had, but we must expect to
meet twenty-five or thirty assailants. I need not describe to you the
place of siege: you know it. Believe, however, that the aspect of the
place had changed a great deal since the day when I breakfasted there
for the first time, under guard of the Corfuan, with Mrs. Simons and
Mary-Ann. The roots of our beautiful trees were exposed, and the
nightingale was far away. What is more important for you to know, is,
that we were protected on the right and left by rocks, inaccessible even
to the enemy. They could attack us from the King's cabinet, and they
could watch us from the bottom of the ravine. On the one hand, their
balls flew over us; on the other, ours flew over the sentinels, but at
such long range that it was wasting our ammunition.
If Coltzida and his companions had possessed the least idea of war, they
could have done for us. They could have raised the barricade, entered by
force, driven us into a corner, or thrown us over into the ravine. But
the imbecile, who had two men to our one, thought to husband his
ammunition, and place, as sharp-shooters, twenty stupid men who did not
know how to discharge a gun. Our men were not much more skillful. Better
commanded, however, and wiser, they managed to smash five heads before
night fell. The combatants knew each other by name. They called to each
other after the fashion of Homer's heroes. One attempted to convert the
other by aiming at his cheek; the other replied by a ball and by
argument. The combat was only an armed discussion when, from time to
time, the muskets spoke.
As for me, stretched out in a corner, sheltered from the balls, I tried
to undo my fatal work, and to recall the poor King of the Mountains to
life. He suffered cruelly; he complained of great thirst, and a sharp
pain in the upper part of the abdomen. His icy hands and feet were
violently convulsed. The pulse was irregular, the respiration labored.
His stomach seemed to struggle against an internal execution, without
being able to expel it. His mind had lost nothing of its vigor and its
quickness; his bright and keen eye searched the horizon in the direction
of the Bay of Salamis, and Photini's floating prison.
He grasped my hand and said: "Cure me, my dear child! You are a doctor,
you ought to cure me. I will not reproach you with what you have done;
you were right; you had reason to kill me, because I swore that without
your friend Harris I would not have allowed you to escape me. Is there
nothing to quench the fire which consumes me? I care nothing for life; I
have lived long enough; but if I die, they will kill you, and my poor
Photini will be sacrificed. I suffer! Feel my hands; it seems to me that
they are already dead. Do you believe that this American will have the
heart to carry out his threats? What was it you told me a little while
ago? Photini loves him! Poor little one! I have brought her up to become
the wife of a king. I would rather see her dead, than--no, I would
rather, after all, that she should love this young man; perhaps he may
take pity on her. What are you to him? a friend; nothing more; you are
not even a compatriot. One may have as many friends as one wishes; one
cannot find two women like Photini; I would strangle all my friends if
I found it to my advantage; I would never kill a woman who loved me. If
only he knew how rich she is! Americans are practical, at least, so it
is said. But the poor, little innocent knows nothing about her fortune.
I ought to have told her. But how can I let him know that she will have
a dowry of four millions? We are Coltzida's prisoners. Cure me then, and
by all the saints in paradise I will crush the reptile!"
I am not a physician, and all I know about toxicology is in its
elementary treatment; I remembered, however, that arsenical poisoning
was cured only by a method similar to "Doctor Sangrado." I used means to
make the old man eject the contents of his stomach, and I soon began to
hope that the poison was almost expelled. Reaction followed; his skin
became burning hot, the pulse quickened, his face flushed, his eyes were
blood-shot. I asked him if any one of his men knew enough to bleed him.
He tied a bandage tightly around his arm, and coolly opened a vein
himself, to the noise of the fusilade and while the bullets dashed
around him. He let out a sufficient amount of blood, and asked me in a
sweet and tranquil tone, what else there was to do. I ordered him to
drink, to drink more, to keep on drinking, until the last particle of
arsenic had been disposed of. The goat-skin of white wine which had
killed Vasile was still in the chamber. This wine, mixed with water,
brought back life to the King. He obeyed me like a child. I believe that
the first time I held out the cup to him, his poor, old suffering
Highness seized my hand to kiss it.
Toward ten o'clock he became much better, but his pipe-bearer was dead.
The poor devil could neither rid himself of the poison, nor revive. They
threw him into the ravine, at the top of the cascade. All our defenders
were in good condition, without a wound, but famished as wolves in
December. As for me, I had been without food for twenty-four hours, and
I was very hungry. The enemy, in order to defy us, passed the night
eating and drinking above our heads. They threw to us some mutton bones
and some empty goat-skin bottles. Our men replied with some shots,
guessing at the position of our foes. We could plainly hear the cries of
joy and the groans of the dying. Coltzida was drunk; the wounded and the
sick howled in unison; Moustakas did not shout for a long time. The
tumult kept me awake the entire night near the old King. Ah! Monsieur,
how long the nights seem to him who is not sure of the next day!
Tuesday morning broke gray and wet. The sky looked threatening at
sunrise, and a disagreeable rain fell alike on friend and foe. But if we
were wide awake enough to protect our arms and ammunition, General
Coltzida's army had not taken the same precaution. The first engagement
redounded entirely to our honor. The enemy was badly hidden, and fired
their pistols with shaking hands. The game seemed so good a one, that I
took a gun like the others. What happened I will write to you about at
some future time, if I ever become a doctor. I have already confessed to
murders enough for a man whose business it is not. Hadgi-Stavros
followed my example; but his hands refused to act; his extremities were
swollen and painful, and I announced to him, with my usual frankness,
that this incapacity might last as long as he did.
About nine o'clock the enemy, who seemed to be very attentive in
responding to us, suddenly turned their backs. I heard heavy firing
which was not directed to us, and I concluded that Master Coltzida had
allowed himself to be surprised in the rear. Who was the unknown ally
who was serving us so good a turn? Was it prudent to effect a junction
and to demolish our barricade? I asked nothing else, but the King
believed that it was a troop of the line, and Tambouris gnawed his
moustache. All our doubts were soon removed. A voice which was not
unknown to me, cried: "All right!" Three young men, armed to the teeth,
sprang forward like tigers, broke down the barricade and fell in our
midst. Harris and Lobster held in each hand a six-shooter. Giacomo
brandished a musket, the butt-end in the air, like a club: it was thus
that he knew how to use fire-arms.
A thunder-bolt falling into the chamber would have produced less magical
effect than the appearance of these men, who shot right and left, and
who seemed to carry death in their hands. My three fellow-boarders,
excited by the noise, elated with victory, perceived neither
Hadgi-Stavros nor me. They only turned around in order to kill a man,
and God knows! they did their work well. Our poor champions, astonished,
affrighted, were overcome without having had time to defend themselves
or to be recognized. I, who would have saved their lives, shouted from
my corner; but my voice was drowned in the whistling of bullets, and
the shouts of the conquerors. Dimitri, crouching between the King and
me, vainly joined his voice to mine. Harris, Lobster, and Giacomo fired,
ran here and there, knocked down, counting the blows, each in his own
tongue.
"One!" said Lobster.
"Two!" responded Harris.
"Tre! quatro! cinque!" growled Giacomo. The fifth was Tambouris. His
head split under the blow like a fresh nut struck by a stone. The brains
were scattered about, and the body sunk into the water like a bundle of
clothes which a washerwoman throws in the edge of a brook. My friends
were a fine sight in their horrible work. They killed with ferocity,
they delighted in the justice they meted out. While running toward the
camp, the wind had blown away their hats; their locks were disheveled;
their glistening eyes shone so murderously, that it was difficult to
decide whether death was dealt by their looks or by their hands. One
could have said that destruction was incarnate in this panting trio.
When they had removed all obstacles from their path and they saw no
enemies but the three or four wounded men stretched on the ground, they
stopped to breathe. Harris' first thought was for me. Giacomo had only
one care: he wished to ascertain whether, among the number, he had
broken Hadgi-Stavros' head. Harris shouted: "Hermann, where are you?"
"Here!" I replied: and the three fighters ran at my call.
The King of the Mountains, feeble as he was, put one hand on my
shoulder, raised himself from the rock, looked fixedly at these men who
had killed such a number to reach him, and said in a firm tone: "I am
Hadgi-Stavros!"
You know that my friends had waited for a long time for occasion to
chastise the old Palikar. They had promised themselves to celebrate his
death as a festival. They would avenge Mistra's little daughters; a
thousand other victims; me, and themselves. But, however, I had no need
to restrain them. There was such remains of greatness in this hero in
ruins, that their anger fell from them and gave way to astonishment.
They were all three young men, and at the age when one no longer takes
arms against a disarmed enemy. I related to them, in a few words, how
the King had defended me against his whole band, almost dead as he was,
and on the same day on which I had poisoned him. I explained to them
about the battle they had interrupted, the barricades they had broken
down, and that strange contest in which they had interfered and killed
our defenders.
"So much the worse for them!" said John Harris. "We wear, like Justice,
a bandage over our eyes. If the rogues performed a good deed before they
died, it will be counted in their favor up above; I do not object to
it."
"As for the men of whom we have deprived you, do not worry about them,"
said Lobster. "With two revolvers in our hands and two more in our
pockets, we have each been worth twenty-four men. We have killed these;
the others have only to come back. Is it not so, Giacomo?"
"As for me, I could knock down an army of bulls!" said the Maltese; "I
am in the humor for it. And to think that one is reduced to sealing
letters with two such fists as these!"
The enemy, however, recovered from their astonishment, had again begun
the siege. Three or four brigands had poked their noses over our
ramparts and saw the carnage. Coltzida knew not what to think of the
three scourges who had struck blindly, right and left, among friends and
foes; but he decided that either sword or poison must have freed the
King of the Mountains. He prudently ordered the men to demolish our
defense. We were out of sight, sheltered by the wall, about ten steps
from the staircase. The noise of the falling barricade warned my friends
to reload their revolvers. The King allowed them to do so. He said to
John Harris:
"Where is Photini?"
"On my ship."
"You have not harmed her?"
"Do you think that I have taken lessons from you in torturing young
girls?"
"You are right, I am a miserable old dog; pardon me! Promise me to
forgive her!"
"What the devil do you want me to do with her? Now that I have found
Hermann, I will send her back to you whenever you wish."
"Without ransom?"
"You old beast!"
"You shall see whether I am an old beast!"
He passed his left arm around Dimitri's neck, he extended his shriveled
and trembling hand toward the hilt of his sword, painfully drew the
blade from the scabbard, and marched toward the staircase where Coltzida
and his men stood hesitating. They recoiled at sight of him, as if the
earth had opened to allow the passage of the ruler of the infernal
regions. There were fifteen or twenty, all armed; not one dared to
defend himself, to make excuses, nor even to attempt to escape. They
trembled in all their limbs, at sight of the terrible face of the
resuscitated King. Hadgi-Stavros marched straight to Coltzida, who,
paler and more horrified than the others, attempted to hide behind his
companions. The King threw his arm backwards by an effort impossible to
describe, and with one blow severed his head from his body. Instantly, a
trembling seized him. His sword fell on the dead man and he did not
deign to pick it up.
"Let us go on," he said, "I carry an empty scabbard. The blade is no
longer of use, neither am I; I am done for!"
His old companions approached to ask pardon. Some of them begged him not
to abandon them; they knew not what to do without him. He did not honor
them with a word of response. He implored us to accompany him to Castia
to find horses, and to Salamis to search for Photini.
The brigands allowed us to depart without hindrance. After a few steps,
my friends noticed that I could scarcely step; Giacomo helped me along;
Harris asked if I was wounded. The King gave me a beseeching look, poor
man! I told my friends that I had attempted a perilous escape, and that
my feet had been badly wounded. We carefully picked our way down the
mountain paths. The groans of the wounded, and the voices of the bandits
who were discussing matters, followed us for quite a distance. As we
approached the village, the weather changed, and the path began to dry
under our feet. The first ray of sunlight which burst forth seemed to me
very beautiful. Hadgi-Stavros paid little attention to the outside
world; he communed within himself. It is something to break off a habit
of fifty years standing.
On the outskirts of Castia, we met the monk who was carrying a swarm of
bees in a sack. He greeted us courteously, and excused himself for not
having visited us since the evening before. The musket shots had
intimidated him. The King saluted him and passed on. My friends' horses
were waiting, with their guide, near the fountain. I asked them how they
happened to have four horses. They said that M. Mérinay made one of the
party, but that he had alighted to inspect a curious stone, and that he
had not yet re-appeared.
Giacomo Fondi lifted me to the saddle at arm's length; he could not
resist the temptation. The King, assisted by Dimitri, painfully climbed
into his. Harris and his nephew vaulted into theirs; Giacomo, Dimitri,
and the guide preceded us on foot.
The path widening, I rode up beside Harris, and he related to me how
the King's daughter had fallen into his hands:
"Imagine;" he said to me. "I had just arrived from my cruise, much
pleased with myself, and very proud of having run down a half-dozen
pirates. I anchored off Piraeus, Sunday, at six o'clock; I landed; and
as I had been eight days tête-à-tête with my head officer, I promised
myself a little pleasure in conversation. I stopped a fiacre, I hired it
for the evening. I arrived at Christodule's house in the midst of a
general hubbub; I would never have believed that so much trouble could
be found in a pastry-cook's house. Every one was there for supper.
Christodule, Maroula, Dimitri, Giacomo, William, M. Mérinay and the
little Sunday girl, more tricked out than ever. William related to me
your story. It is useless to tell you that I made a great uproar. I was
furious with myself for not having been in the city. My nephew assured
me that he had done all he could. He had scoured the city for fifteen
thousand francs, but his parents had opened only a limited credit for
him; briefly, he had not found the amount. In despair, he addressed
himself to M. Mérinay: but the sweet Mérinay pretended that all his
money was lent to his intimate friends, far from here, very
far;--farther than the end of the world!
"'Eh! Zounds!' I said to Lobster, 'it is in lead-money that one must pay
the old scoundrel. For what good is it to be as dextrous as Nimrod, if
one's talent is good only to break Socrates' prison? We must organize a
hunt for the old Palikars! Once, I refused a journey to Central Africa:
I have since regretted it. It is double pleasure to shoot an animal
which defends itself. Provide plenty of powder and balls, and to-morrow
morning we will set out on a campaign.' William took the bait, Giacomo
brought his fist down in a crashing blow on the table; you know what
Giacomo's fist-blows are. He swore that he would accompany us, provided
he could find a single-barreled gun. But the most enraged of all was M.
Mérinay. He wished to bathe his hands in the blood of those wretches. We
accepted his services, but I offered to buy the game which he would
bring back. He swelled out his little voice in the most comical fashion,
and showing his fists to Mademoiselle, said that Hadgi-Stavros would
have business to settle with him.
"I laughed gleefully like those who are always gay the night before a
battle. Lobster became very merry at the thought of showing the bandits
the progress he had made. Giacomo could not contain himself for joy; the
corners of his mouth went around dangerously near his ears; he cracked
nuts with the face of a nut-cracker of Nuremburg. M. Mérinay had a halo
around his head. He was no longer a man, but a pyrotechnic display.
"Except us, the guests resembled alder trees. The pastry-cook's huge
wife made signs of the cross; Dimitri raised his eyes to heaven,
Christodule advised us to think twice before we provoked the King of the
Mountains. But the girl with the flat nose, the one to whom you gave the
name of Crinolina invariabilis, was plunged in grief which was quite
amusing. She fetched great sighs like a wood-splitter; she did this
only to keep herself in countenance, and I could have put in my left eye
all the supper which she put into her mouth."
"She is a good girl, Harris."
"Good girl as much as you wish, but I find that your indulgence for her
passes all bounds. I have never been able to pardon her for her dresses
which thrust themselves obstinately under the legs of my chair, the odor
of patchouli which she spreads around me, and the lackadaisical glances
which she passes around the table. One would say, upon my word, that she
is not capable of looking at a carafe without casting sheep's eyes at
it. But if you love her, such as she is, there is nothing to be said.
She left at nine o'clock for her boarding-school; I wished her bon
voyage. Ten minutes afterward I shook hands with our friends, we made a
rendezvous for the next day, I went out, I wakened my coachman and guess
whom I found in my carriage? Crinolina invariabilis with the
pastry-cook's servant.
"She placed her finger on her lips. I entered without saying a word, and
we started. 'Monsieur Harris,' she said in very good English, by my
faith, 'swear to me to renounce your plans against the King of the
Mountains.'
"I began to laugh, and she began to weep. She declared that I would be
killed; I replied that it was I who would kill the others; she objected
to having Hadgi-Stavros killed; I wished to know why; at last, at the
end of her eloquence, she cried out, as if in the fifth act of a play:
'He is my father!' Upon that I began to seriously reflect; once in a way
does not count. I thought that it might be possible to recover a lost
friend without risking two or three others, and I said to the young
Palikar:
"'Your father loves you?'
"'More than his life.'
"'He never refuses you anything?'
"'Nothing that is necessary.'
"'And if you should write to him that you wanted M. Hermann Schultz
would he send him to you with the message-bearer?'
"'No.'
"'You are absolutely sure of it?'
"'Absolutely.'
"'Then, Mademoiselle, I have but one thing to do. Set a thief to catch a
thief. I will carry you on board The Fancy, and I will hold you as a
hostage until Hermann is returned.'
"'I was about to propose it to you,' she said. 'At that price papa will
send back your friend.'"
Here I interrupted John Harris' story.
"Oh, well! you do not admire the poor, young girl who loves you enough
to give herself into your hands?"
"A fine affair!" he replied. "She wished to save that honest man, her
father, and she well knew that once war was declared we would not let
him escape. I promised to treat her with all the respect a gallant man
ought to treat a woman. She wept until we reached Piraeus. I consoled
her as best I could. She murmured: 'I am a lost girl!' I demonstrated
to her by 'A' plus 'B' that she would find herself again. I made her get
out of the carriage. I helped her and the servant into my boat, which
now awaits us below. I wrote to the old brigand an explicit letter, and
I sent an old woman with a little message to Dimitri.
"Since that time the beautiful weeper enjoys undisputed possession of my
apartments. Orders were given that she was to be treated like the
daughter of a king. I waited until Monday evening for her father's
response; then my patience failed me; I returned to my first plan; I
took my pistols; I notified my friends, and you know the rest. Now it is
your turn; you ought to have a whole volume to recount."
"I must first speak to the King."
I approached him and said to him in a low tone: "I do not know why I
told you that Photini was in love with John Harris. Fear must have
turned my head. I have been talking with him, and I swear to you, on the
head of my father, that she is as indifferent to him as if he had never
spoken to her."
The old man thanked me with a motion of the hand, and I went back to
John Harris, and related my adventures with Mary-Ann. "Bravo!" he
exclaimed. "I find that the romance is not complete on account of the
absence of a little love. A sufficient amount will do no harm."
"Excuse me," I answered. "There is no love in it at all! A firm
friendship on one side, a little gratitude on the other. But nothing
more is necessary, I think, to make a reasonably suitable marriage."
"Marry, my friend, and permit me to be a witness to your happiness."
"You have well earned it, John Harris."
"When shall you see her again? I would give much to be present at the
interview."
"I would like to surprise her and meet her by chance."
"That is a good idea! After to-morrow, at the Court Ball! You are
invited. I am, too. Your note lies on your table, at Christodule's
house. Until then, my boy, you must remain on board my ship in order to
recuperate a little. Your hair is scorched and your feet are wounded; we
will have time to remedy all that."
It was six o'clock in the evening when the boat belonging to Harris put
off to The Fancy. They carried the King on deck; he could not walk.
Photini, weeping, threw herself into his arms. It was happiness to see
that those whom she loved had survived the battle, but she found her
father grown twenty years older. Possibly, also, she suffered from
Harris' indifference. He delivered her to her father in a characteristic
American fashion, saying: "We are quits! You have returned my friend to
me; I have restored Mademoiselle to you. An even exchange is no robbery!
Short accounts make long friends! And now, most venerable old man, under
what beneficent region of the earth will you search for the one who is
to hang you?"
"Pardon me," he replied, with a certain hauteur. "I have bidden adieu to
brigandage forever. What would I do in the mountains? All of my men are
dead, wounded or scattered. I could form another band; but these hands
which have been so powerful, refuse to act. Younger men must take my
place; but I defy them to equal my fortune and my renown. What shall I
do with what few years are left to me? I know not yet; but you may be
sure that my last days will not be idle ones. I have to establish my
daughter to dictate my memoirs. Possibly, even, if the shocks of this
week have not wearied my brain too severely, I will consecrate to the
service of the State my talents and my experience. May God give me
health and strength! before six months have passed I shall be President
of the Ministry!"