CHAPTER XIX
THE ARMENIAN DOG!
The death-cry that Mouraki Pasha uttered under Demetri's avengingknife seemed to touch a spring and set us all a-moving. The sound ofit turned the soldiers' idle lassitude into an amazed wonder, whichagain passed in an instant to fierce excitement. Phroso leapt, with ashriek, to her feet. I hurled myself across the space between me andthe rope, knife in hand. The soldiers, neglecting their unarmedprisoner, turned with a shout of rage, and rushed wildly up the slopeto where Demetri stood, holding his blade towards heaven. The ropeparted under my impetuous assault. Phroso was by my side, in aninstant we were in the boat; I pushed off. I seized the sculls; butthen I hesitated. Was this man my friend, my ally, my accomplice, whatyou will? I looked up the slope. Demetri stood by the body of Mouraki.The four soldiers rushed towards him. I could not approve his deed;but I had suffered it to be done. I must not run away now. I pushedthe sculls into Phroso's hands. But she had caught my purpose, andthrew herself upon me, twining her arms about me and crying, 'No, no,my lord! My lord, no, no!' Her love gave her strength; for a moment Icould not disengage myself, but stood fast bound in her embrace.
The moment was enough. It was the end, the end of that brief fiercedrama on the rocky slope, the end of any power I might have had to aidDemetri; for he did not try to defend himself. He stood still as astatue where he was, holding the knife up to heaven, the smile whichhis loud laugh left still on his lips. Phroso's head sank on myshoulder. She would not look; but the sight drew my eyes with anirresistible attraction. The bayonets flashed in the air and buriedthemselves in Demetri's body. He sank with a groan. Again the blades,drawn back, were driven into him, and again and again. He was amangled corpse, but in hot revenge for their leader they thrust andthrust. It turned me sick to look; yet I looked till at last theyceased, and stood for an instant over the two bodies, regarding them.Then I loosed Phroso's arms off me; she sank back in the stern. AgainI took the sculls and laid to with a will. Where we were to go, orwhat help we could look for, I did not know; but a fever to be awayfrom the place had come on me, and I pulled, thinking less of lifeand safety than of putting distance between me and that hideous scene.
'They don't move,' whispered Phroso, whose eyes were now turned awayfrom me and fixed on the beach. 'They stand still. Row, my lord, row!'
A moment passed. I pulled with all my strength. She was between me andthe land; I could see nothing. Her voice came again, low but urgent:
'Now they move, they're coming down to the shore. Ah, my lord, they'retaking aim!'
'God help us!' said I between my teeth. 'Crouch in the boat. Low down,get right down. Lower down, Phroso, lower down!'
'Ah, one has knocked up the barrels! They're talking again. Why don'tthey fire?'
'Do they look like hesitating?'
'Yes. No, they're aiming again. No, they've stopped. Row, my lord,row!'
I was pulling as I had not pulled since I rowed in my college boat atOxford nine years before. I thought of the race at that moment with asort of amusement. But all the while Phroso kept watch for me; bydesign or chance she did not move from between me and the shore.
'They're running to the boat now. They're getting in. Are they comingafter us, my lord?'
'Heaven knows! I suppose so.'
I was wondering why they had not used their rifles; they had evidentlythought of firing at first, but something had held their hands.Perhaps they, mere humble soldiers, shrank from the responsibility.Their leader, whose protection would have held them harmless and whosefavour rewarded them, lay dead. They might well hesitate to fire on aman whom they knew to be a person of some position and who had takenno part in Mouraki's death.
'They're launching the boat. They're in now,' came in Phroso'sbreathless whisper.
'How far off are we?'
'I don't know; two hundred yards, perhaps. They've started now.'
'Do they move well?'
'Yes, they're rowing hard. Oh, my dear lord, can you row harder?' Sheturned to me for an instant, clasping her hands in entreaty.
'No, I can't, Phroso,' said I, and I believe I smiled. Did the deargirl think I should choose that moment for paddling?
'They're gaining,' she cried. 'Oh, they're gaining! On, my lord, on!'
'How many are rowing?'
'Three, my lord, each with two oars.'
'Oh, the deuce! It's no good, Phroso.'
'No good, my lord? But if they catch us?'
'I wish I could answer you. How near now?'
'Half as near as they were before.'
'Look round the sea. Are there any boats anywhere? Look all round.'
'There's nothing anywhere, my lord.'
'Then the game's up,' said I; and I rested on my oars and began topant. I was not in training for a race.
The boat containing the soldiers drew near. Our boat, now motionless,awaited their coming. Phroso sank on the seat and sat with adespairing look in her eyes. But my mood was not the same. Mouraki wasdead. I knew the change his death made was great. Mouraki was dead. Idid not believe that there was another man in Neopalia who would dareto take any extreme step against me. For why had they not fired? Theydid not fire now, when they could have shot me through the headwithout difficulty and without danger.
Their boat came alongside of ours. I leant forward and touchedPhroso's hand; she looked up.
'Courage,' said I. 'The braver we look the better we shall come off.'Then I turned to the pursuers and regarded them steadily, waiting forthem to speak. The first communication was in dumb show. The man whowas steering--he appeared to be a subordinate officer--covered me withhis barrel.
'I'm absolutely unarmed,' I said. 'You know that. You took my revolveraway from me.'
'You're trying to escape,' said he, not shifting his aim.
'Where's your warrant for stopping me?' I demanded.
'The Pasha--'
'The Pasha's dead. Be careful what you do. I am an Englishman, and inmy country I am as great a man as your Pasha was.' This assertionperhaps was on, or beyond, the confines of strict truth; it hadconsiderable effect, however.
'You were our prisoner, my lord,' said the officer more civilly. 'Wecannot allow you to escape. And this lady was a prisoner also. She isnot English; she is of the island. And one of the islanders has slainthe Pasha. She must answer for it.'
'What can she have had to do with it?'
'It may have been planned between her and the assassin.'
'Oh, and between me and the assassin too, perhaps?'
'Perhaps, my lord. It is not my place to inquire into that.'
I shrugged my shoulders with an appearance of mingled carelessness andimpatience.
'Well, what do you want of us?' I asked.
'You must accompany us back to Neopalia.'
'Well, where did you suppose I was going? Is this a boat to go for avoyage in? Can I row a hundred miles to Rhodes? Come, you're a sillyfellow!'
He was rather embarrassed by my tone. He did not know whether tobelieve in my sincerity or not. Phroso caught the cue well enough tokeep her tongue between her pretty lips, and her lids low over herwondering eyes.
'But,' I pursued in a tone of ironical remonstrance, 'are you going toleave the Pasha there? The other is a rogue and a murderer' (it ratherwent to my heart to describe the useful, if unscrupulous, Demetri inthese terms); 'let him be. But does it suit the dignity of MourakiPasha to lie untended on the shore, while his men row off to theharbour? It will look as though you had loved him little. You, four ofyou, allow one man to kill him, and then you leave his body as if itwere the body of a dog!'
I had no definite reason for wishing them to return and take upMouraki's body; but every moment gained was something. Neopalia hadbred in me a constant hope of new chances, of fresh turns, of a smilefrom fortune following quick on a frown. So I urged on them anythingwhich would give a respite. My appeal was not wasted. The officer helda hurried whispered consultation with the soldier who sat on the seatnext to him. Then he
said:
'It is true, my lord. It is more fitting that we should carry the bodyback; but you must return with us.'
'With all my heart,' said I, taking up my sculls with alacrity.
The officer responded to this move of mine by laying his rifle inreadiness across his knees; both boats turned, and we set out againfor the beach. As soon as we reached it three of them went up theslope. I saw them kick Demetri's body out of the way; for he hadfallen so that his arm was over the breast of his victim. Then theyraised Mouraki and began to carry him down. Phroso hid her face in herhands. My eyes were on Mouraki's face; I watched him carried down tothe boat, meditating on the strange toss-up which had allotted to himthe fate which he had with such ruthless cunning prepared for me.Suddenly I sprang up, leapt out of the boat, and began to walk up theslope. I passed the soldiers who bore Mouraki. They paused in surpriseand uneasiness. I walked briskly by, taking no notice of them, andcame where Demetri's body lay. I knelt for a moment by him, and closedhis eyes with my hand. Then I took off the silk scarf I was wearingand spread it over his face, and I rose to my feet again. Somehow Ifelt that I owed to Demetri some such small office of friendship asthis that I was paying; and I found myself hoping that there had beengood in the man, and that He who sees all of the heart would see goodeven in the wild desperate soul of Demetri of Neopalia. So I arrangedthe scarf carefully, and, turning, walked down the slope to the boatsagain, glad to be able to tell the girl Panayiota that somebody hadclosed her lover's eyes. Thus I left the friend that I knew not of.Looking into my own heart, I did not judge him harshly. I had let thething be done.
When I reached the beach, the soldiers were about to lay Mouraki'sbody in the larger of the two boats; but having nothing to cover hisbody with they proceeded to remove his undress frock coat and left itlying for an instant on the shingle while they lifted him in. Seeingthat they were ready, I picked up the coat and handed it to them. Theytook it and arranged it over the trunk and head. Two of them got intothe boat in which Phroso sat and signed to me to jump in. I was aboutto obey when I perceived a pocket-book lying on the shingle. It wasnot mine. Neither Demetri nor any of the soldiers was likely to carrya handsome morocco-leather case; it must have belonged to Mouraki andhave fallen from his coat as I lifted it. It lay opened now, faceupwards. I stooped for it, intending to give it to the officer. But aninstant later it was in my pocket; and I, under the screen of a mostinnocent expression, was covertly watching my guards, to see whetherthey had detected my action. The two who rowed Mouraki had alreadystarted; the others had been taking their seats in the boat and hadnot perceived the swift motion with which I picked up the book. Iwalked past them and sat down behind them in the bows. Phroso was inthe stern. One of them asked her, with a considerable show of respect,if she would steer. She assented with a nod. I crouched down low inthe bows behind the backs of the soldiers; there I took out Mouraki'spocket-book and opened it. My action seemed, no doubt, not far removedfrom theft. But as the book lay open on the shore, I had seen in itsomething which belonged to me, something which was inalienably mine,of which no schemes or violence could deprive me: this was nothingelse than my name.
Very quietly and stealthily I drew out a slip of paper; behind thatwas another slip, and again a third. They were cuttings from a Greeknewspaper. Neither the name of the paper, nor the dates, nor theplace of publication, appeared: the extracts were merely three shortparagraphs. My name headed each of them. I had not been aware that anychronicle of my somewhat unexpected fortunes had reached the outerworld; and I set myself to read with much interest. Great men maybecome indifferent as to what the papers say about them; I had neverattained to this exalted state of mind.
'Let's have a look,' said I to myself, after a cautious glance over myshoulder at the other boat, which was several yards ahead.
The first paragraph ran thus: 'We regret to hear that Lord Wheatley,the English nobleman who has recently purchased the island of Neopaliaand taken up his residence there, is suffering from a severe attack ofthe fever which is at the present time prevalent in the island.'
'Now that's very curious,' I thought, for I had never enjoyed betterhealth than during my sojourn in Neopalia. I turned with increasedinterest to the second cutting. I wanted to see what progress I hadmade in my serious sickness. Naturally I was interested.
'We greatly regret to announce that Lord Wheatley's condition iscritical. The fever has abated, but the patient is dangerouslyprostrate.'
'It would be even more interesting if one had the dates,' thought I.
The last paragraph was extremely brief. 'Lord Wheatley died at seveno'clock yesterday morning.'
I lay back in the bows of the boat, holding these remarkable littleslips of paper in my hand. They gave occasion for some thought. Then Ireplaced them in the pocket-book, and I had, I regret to say, thecuriosity to explore further. I lifted the outer flap of leather andlooked in the inner compartment. It held only a single piece of paper.On the paper were four or five lines, not in print this time but inhandwriting, and the handwriting looked very much like what I had seenover Mouraki's name.
'Report of Lord Wheatley's death unfounded. Reason to suspect intendedfoul play on the part of the islanders. The Governor is makinginquiries. Lord Wheatley is carefully guarded, as attempts on his lifeare feared. Feeling in the island is much exasperated, the sale toLord Wheatley being very unpopular.'
'There's another compartment yet,' said I to myself, and I turned toit eagerly. Alas, I was disappointed! There was a sheet of paper init, but the paper was a blank. Yet I looked at the blank piece ofpaper with even greater interest; for I had little doubt that it hadbeen intended to carry another message, a message which was true andno lie, which was to have been written this very morning by the daggerof Demetri. Something like this it would have run, would it not, inthe terse style of my friend Mouraki Pasha? 'Lord Wheatleyassassinated this morning. Assassin killed by Governor's guards.Governor is taking severe measures.'
Mouraki, Mouraki, in your life you loved irony, and in your death youwere not divided from it! For while you lay a corpse in the stern ofyour boat, I lived to read those unwritten words on the blank paper inyour pocket-book. At first Constantine had killed me--so I interpretedthe matter--by fever; but later on that story would not serve, sinceDenny and Hogvardt and faithful Watkins knew that it was a lie.Therefore the lie was declared a lie and you set yourself to proveagain that truth is better than a lie--especially when a man canmanufacture it to his own order. Yet, surely, Mouraki, if you can looknow into this world, your smile will be a wry one! For, cunning as youwere and full of twists, more cunning still and richer in expedientsis the thing called fate; and the dagger of Demetri wrote anothermessage to fill the blank sheet that your provident notebook carried!
Thinking thus, I put the book in my pocket, and looked round with asmile on my lips. I wished the man were alive that I might mock him. Igrudged him the sudden death which fenced him from my triumphantraillery.
Suddenly, there in the bows of the boat, I laughed aloud, so that thesoldiers turned startled faces over their shoulders and Phroso lookedat me in wonder.
'It's nothing,' said I. 'Since I'm alive I may laugh, I suppose?'Mouraki Pasha was not alive.
My reading and my meditation had passed the time. Now we were roundthe point which had lain between us and the harbour, and were headingstraight for the gunboat that was anchored just across the head of thejetty. Phroso's eyes met mine in an appeal. I could give her no hopeof escape. There was nothing for it: we must go on, we and Mourakitogether. But my heart was buoyant within me and I exulted in thefavours of fortune as a lover in his mistress's smiles. Was notMouraki lying dead in the stern of the boat and was not I alive?
We drew near to the gunboat. Now I perceived that her steam launch layby her side and smoke poured from its funnel. Evidently the launch wasready for a voyage. Whither? Could it be to Rhodes? And did thepocket-book that I felt against my ribs by any chance contain thecargo which was to have been speeded on
its way to-day? I laughedagain as our boat came alongside, and a movement of excitement andinterest rose from the deck of gunboat and launch alike.
The officer went on board the gunboat; for an hour or more we satwhere we were, sheltered by the side of the vessel from the heat ofthe sun, for it was now noon. What was happening on board I could nottell, but there was stir and bustle. The excitement seemed to grow.Presently it spread from the vessel to the shore and groups ofislanders began to collect. I saw men point at Phroso, at me, at thestiffened figure under the coat. They spoke also, and freely; moreboldly than I had heard them since Mouraki had landed and his presenceturned their fierce pride to meekness. It was as though a weight hadbeen lifted off them. I knew, from my own mind, the relief that cameto them by the death of the hard man and the removal of the ruthlessarm. Presently a boat put off and began to pull round the promontory.The soldiers did not interfere, but watched it go in idle toleration.I guessed its errand: it went to take up the corpse of Demetri, and (Iwas much afraid) to give it a patriot's funeral.
At last Mouraki's body was carried on to the gunboat; then a summonscame to me. With a glance of encouragement at Phroso, who sat in asort of stupor, I rose and obeyed. I was conducted on to the deck andfound myself face to face with the captain. He was a Turk, a young manof dignified and pleasant appearance. He bowed to me courteously,although slightly. I supposed that Mouraki's death left him thesupreme authority in Neopalia and I made him the obeisance proper tohis new position.
'This is a terrible, a startling event, my lord,' said he.
'It's the loss of a very eminent and distinguished man,' I observed.
'Ah, yes, and in a very fearful manner,' he answered. 'I am notprejudging your position, but you must see that it puts you in arather serious situation.'
There were two or three of his officers standing near. I took a steptowards him. I liked his looks; and somehow his grief at Mouraki's enddid not seem intense. I determined to play the bold game.
'Nothing, I assure you, to what I should have been in if it had notoccurred,' said I composedly.
A start and a murmur ran round the group. The captain lookeduncomfortable.
'With his Excellency's plans we have nothing to do--' he began.
'Aye, but I have,' said I. 'And when I tell you--'
'Gentlemen,' said the captain hastily, 'leave us alone for a littlewhile.'
I saw at once that I had made an impression. It seemed not difficultto create an impression adverse to Mouraki now that he was dead,though it had not been wise to display one when he was alive.
'I don't know,' said I, when we were left alone together, 'whether youknew the relations between the late Pasha and myself?'
'No,' said he in a steady voice, looking me full in the face.
'It was not, perhaps, within the sphere of your duty to know them?' Ihazarded.
'It was not,' said he. I thought I saw the slightest of smilesglimmering between beard and moustache.
'But now that you're in command, it's different?'
'It is undoubtedly different now,' he admitted.
'Shall we talk in your cabin?'
'By all means;' and he led the way.
When we reached the cabin, I gave him a short sketch of what hadhappened since Mouraki's arrival. He was already informed as to theevents before that date. He heard me with unmoved face. At last Icame to my attempted escape with Phroso by the secret passage and toConstantine's attack.
'That fellow was a villain,' he observed.
'Yes,' said I. 'Read those.' And I handed him the printed slips,adding, 'I suppose he sent these by fishing-boats to Rhodes, first topave the way, and finally to account for my disappearance.'
'I must congratulate you on a lucky escape, my lord.'
'You have more than that to congratulate me on, captain. Your launchseems ready for a voyage.'
'Yes; but I have countermanded the orders.'
'What were they?'
'I beg your pardon, my lord, but what concern is it--?'
'For a trip to Rhodes, perhaps?'
'I shall not deny it if you guess it.'
'By the order of the Pasha?'
'Undoubtedly.'
'On what errand?'
'His Excellency did not inform me.'
'To carry this perhaps?' I flung the paper which bore Mouraki'shandwriting on the table that stood between us.
He took it up and read it; while he read, I took my pencil from mypocket and wrote on the blank slip of paper, which I had found in thepocket-book, the message that Mouraki's brain had surely conceived,though his fingers had grown stiff in death before they could writeit.
'What does all this mean?' asked the captain, looking up as hefinished reading.
'And to-morrow,' said I, 'I think another message would have gone toRhodes--'
'I had orders to be ready to go myself to-morrow.'
'You had?' I cried. 'And what would you have carried?'
'That I don't know.'
'Aye, but I do. There's your cargo!' And I flung down what I hadwritten.
He read it once and again, and looked across the table at me,fingering the slip of paper.
'He did not write this?' he said.
'As you saw, I wrote it. If he had lived, then, as surely as I live,he would have written it. Captain, it was for me that dagger wasmeant. Else why did he take the man Demetri with him? Had Demetricause to love him, or he cause to trust Demetri?'
The captain stood holding the paper. I walked round the table and laidmy hand on his shoulder.
'You didn't know his schemes,' said I. 'They weren't schemes that hecould tell to a Turkish gentleman.'
At this instant the door opened and the officer who had been with usin the morning entered.
'I have laid his Excellency's body in his cabin,' he said.
'Come,' said the captain, 'we will go and see it, my lord.'
I followed him to where Mouraki lay. The Pasha's face was composed andthere was even the shadow of a smile on his pale lips.
'Do you believe what I tell you?' I asked. 'I tried to save the girlfrom him and in return he meant to kill me. Do you believe me? If not,hang me for his murder; if you do, why am I a prisoner? What have Idone? Where is my offence?'
The captain looked down on Mouraki's face, tugged his beard, smiled,was silent an instant. Then he shrugged his shoulders, and he said--hewho had not dared, a day before, to lift his voice or raise his fingerunbidden in Mouraki's presence:
'Faugh, the Armenian dog!'
There was, I fear, race prejudice in that exclamation, but I did notcontradict it. I stood looking down on Mouraki's face, and to myfancy, stirred by the events of the past hours and twisted fromsobriety to strange excesses of delusion, the lips seemed once againto curl in their old bitter smile, as he lay still and heard himselfspurned, and could not move to exact the vengeance which in his lifehe had never missed.
So we left him--the Armenian dog!