CHAPTER VIII
A KNIFE AT A ROPE
Some modern thinkers, I believe--or perhaps, to be quite safe, I hadbetter say some modern talkers--profess to estimate the value of lifeby reference to the number of distinct sensations which it enablesthem to experience. Judged by a similar standard, my island had been,up to the present time, a brilliant success; it was certainlyfulfilling the function, which Mrs Kennett Hipgrave had appropriatedto it, of whiling away the time that must elapse before my marriagewith her daughter and providing occupation for my thoughts during thisweary interval. The difficulty was that the island seemed disinclinedto restrict itself to this modest sphere of usefulness; it threatenedto monopolise me, and to leave very little of me or my friends, by thetime that it had finished with us. For, although we maintained ourcheerfulness, our position was not encouraging. Had matters beenanything short of desperate above ground it would have been madness toplunge into that watery hole, whose egress was unknown to us, and totake such a step on the off-chance of finding at the other end theCypriote fishermen, and of obtaining from them either an alliance, or,if that failed, the means of flight. Yet we none of us doubted that totake the plunge was the wiser course. I did not believe in the extremeperil of the passage, for, on further questioning, Phroso told us thatthe Englishman had come through, not only alive and well, but alsodry. Therefore there was a path, and along a path that one man can gofour men can go; and Phroso, again attired, at my suggestion, in herserviceable boy's suit, was the equal of any of us. So we leftconsidering whether, and fell to the more profitable work of askinghow, to go. Hogvardt and Watkins went off at once to the point ofdeparture, armed with a pick, a mallet, some stout pegs, and a longlength of rope. All save the last were ready on the premises, and thatlast formed always part of Hogvardt's own equipment; he wore it roundhis waist, and, I believe, slept in it, like a mediaeval ascetic.Meanwhile Denny and I kept watch, and Phroso, who seemed out ofhumour, disappeared into her own room.
Our idea was to reach the other end of the journey somewhere abouteight or nine o'clock in the evening. Phroso told us that this hourwas the most favourable for finding the fishermen; they would then betaking a meal before launching their boats for the fishing-grounds.Three hours seemed ample time to allow for the journey, for the waycould hardly, however rich it were in windings, be more than three orfour miles long. We determined, therefore, to start at five. At fourHogvardt and Watkins returned from the underground passage; they haddriven three stout pegs into excavations in the rocky path, and builtthem in securely with stones and earth. The rope was tied fast andfirm round the pegs, and the moistness of its end showed the length tobe sufficient. I wished to descend first, but I was at once overruled;Denny was to lead, Watkins was to follow; then came Hogvardt, thenPhroso, and lastly myself. We arranged all this as we ate a good meal;then each man stowed away a portion of goat--the goat had died thedeath that morning--and tied a flask of wine about him. It was aquarter to five, and Denny rose to his feet, flinging away hiscigarette.
'That's my last!' said he, regretfully regarding his empty case.
His words sounded ominous, but the spirit of action was on us, and wewould not be discouraged. I went to the hall door and fired a shot,and then did the like at the back. Having thus spent two cartridgeson advertising our presence to the pickets we made without delay forthe passage. With my own hand I closed the door behind us. The secretof the Stefanopouloi would thus be hidden from profane eyes in thevery likely event of the islanders finding their way into the house inthe course of the next few hours.
I persuaded Phroso to sit down some little way from the chasm and waittill we were ready for her; we four went on. Denny was a delightfulboy to deal with on such occasions. He wasted no time inpreliminaries. He gave one hard pull at the rope; it stood the test;he cast a rapid eye over the wedges; they were strong and stronglyimbedded in the rock. He laid hold of the rope.
'Don't come after me till I shout,' said he, and he was over the side.The lantern showed me his descending figure, while Hogvardt andWatkins held the rope ready to haul him up in case of need. There wasone moment of suspense; then his voice came, distant and cavernous.
'All right! There's a broad ledge--a foot and a half broad--twentyfeet above the water, and I can see a glimmer of light that looks likethe way out.'
'This is almost disappointingly simple,' said I.
'Would your lordship desire me to go next?' asked Watkins.
'Yes, fire away, Watkins,' said I, now in high good humour.
'Stand from under, sir,' called Watkins to Denny, and over he went.
A shout announced his safe arrival. I laid down the lantern and tookhold of the rope.
'I must hang on to you, Hog,' said I. 'You carry flesh, you see.'
Hogvardt was calm, smiling and leisurely.
'When I'm down, my lord,' he said, 'I'll stand ready to catch theyoung lady. Give me a call before you start her off.'
'All right,' I answered. 'I'll go and fetch her directly.'
Over went old Hogvardt. He groaned once; I suppose he grazed againstthe wall; but he descended with perfect safety. Denny called: 'Nowwe're ready for her, Charley. Lower away!' And I, turning, began towalk back to where I had left Phroso.
My island--I can hardly resist personifying it in the image of somecharming girl, full of tricks and surprises, yet all the whileenchanting--had now behaved well for two hours. The limit of itsendurance seemed to be reached. In another five minutes Phroso and Iwould have been safely down the rope and the party re-united at thebottom, with a fair hope of carrying out prosperously at least thefirst part of the enterprise. But it was not to be. My eyes had grownaccustomed to the gloom, and when I went back I left the lanternstanding by the rope. Suddenly, when I was still a few yards fromPhroso, I heard a curious noise, a sort of shuffling sound, ratherlike the noise made by a rug or carpet drawn along the floor. I stoodstill and listened, turning my my head round to the chasm. The noisecontinued for a minute. I took a step in the direction of it. Then Iseemed to see a curious thing. The lantern appeared to get up, raiseitself a foot or so in the air, keeping its light towards me, andthrow itself over the chasm. At the same instant there was a rasp.Heavens, it was a knife on the rope! A cry came from far down in thechasm. I darted forward. I rushed to where the walls bayed and thechasm opened. The shuffling sound had begun again; and in the middleof the isolated path I saw a dark object. It must be the figure of aman, a man who had watched our proceedings, unobserved by us, andseized this chance of separating our party. For a moment--a fatalmoment--I stood aghast, doing nothing. Then I drew my revolver andfired once--twice--thrice. The bullets whistled along the path, butthe dark figure was no longer to be seen there. But in an instantthere came an answering shot from across the bridge of rock. Dennyshouted wildly to me from below. I fired again; there was a groan, buttwo shots flashed at the very same moment. There were two men there,perhaps more. I stood again for a moment undecided; but I could do nogood where I was. I turned and ran fairly and fast.
'Come, come,' I cried, when I had reached Phroso. 'Come back, comeback! They've cut the rope and they'll be on us directly.'
In spite of her amazement she rose as I bade her. We heard feetrunning along the passage. They would be across the bridge now. Wouldthey stop and fire down the chasm? No, they were coming on. We alsowent on; a touch of Phroso's practised fingers opened the door for us;I turned, and in wrath gave the pursuers one more shot. Then I ran upthe stairs and shut the door behind us. We were in the hall again--butPhroso and I alone.
A hurried story told her all that had happened. Her breath came quickand her cheek flushed.
'The cowards!' she said. 'They dared not attack us when we were alltogether!'
'They will attack us before very long now,' said I, 'and we can'tpossibly hold the house against them. Why, they may open thattrap-door any moment.'
Phroso stepped quickly towards it, and, stooping for a instant,examined it. 'Yes,' she said, 'they may. I can't fas
ten it. You spoiltthe fastening with your pick.'
Hearing this, I stepped close up to the door, reloading my revolver asI went, and I called out, 'The first man who looks out is a dead man.'
No sound came from below. Either they were too hurt to attempt theattack, or, more probably, they preferred the safer and surer way ofsurrounding and overwhelming us by numbers from outside. Indeed wewere at our last gasp now; I flung myself despondently into a chair;but I kept my finger on my weapon and my eye on the trap-door.
'They cannot get back--our friends--and we cannot get to them,' saidPhroso.
'No,' said I. Her simple statement was terribly true.
'And we cannot stay here!' she pursued.
'They'll be at us in an hour or two at most, I'll warrant. Thosefellows will carry back the news that we are alone here.'
'And if they come?' she said, fixing her eyes on me.
'They won't hurt you, will they?'
'I don't know what Constantine would do; but I don't think the peoplewill let him hurt me, unless--'
'Well, unless what?'
She hesitated, looked at me, looked away again. I believe that my eyeswere now guilty of neglecting the trap-door which I ought to havewatched.
'Unless what?' I said again. But Phroso grew red and did not answer.
'Unless you're so foolish as to try to protect me, you mean?' I asked.'Unless you refuse to give them back what Constantine offers to winfor them--the island?'
'They will not let you have the island,' she said in a low voice. 'Idare not face them and tell them it is yours.'
'Do you admit it's mine?' I asked eagerly.
A slow smile dawned on Phroso's face, and she held out her hand to me.Ah, Denny, my conscience, why were you at the bottom of the chasm? Iseized her hand and kissed it.
'Between friends,' she said softly, 'there is no thine nor mine.'
Ah, Denny, where were you? I kissed her hand again--and dropped itlike a red-hot coal.
'But I can't say that to my islanders,' said Phroso, smiling.
Charming as it was, I wished she had not said it to me. I wished thatshe would not speak as she spoke, or look as she looked, or be whatshe was. I forgot all about the trap-door. The island was pilingsensations on me.
At last I got up and went to the table. I found there a scrap ofpaper, on which Denny had drawn a fancy sketch of Constantine (towhom, by the way, he attributed hoofs and a tail). I turned the blankside uppermost, and took my pencil out of my pocket. I was determinedto put the thing on a business-like footing; so I began:'Whereas'--which has a cold, legal, business-like sound:
'Whereas,' I wrote in English, 'this island of Neopalia is mine, Ihereby fully, freely, and absolutely give it to the Lady Euphrosyne,niece of Stefan Georgios Stefanopoulos, lately Lord of the saidisland--Wheatley.' And I made a copy underneath in Greek, and, walkingacross to Phroso, handed the paper to her, remarking in a ratherdisagreeable tone, 'There you are; that'll put it all straight, Ihope.' And I sat down again, feeling out of humour. I did not likegiving up my island, even to Phroso. Moreover I had the strongestdoubt whether my surrender would be of the least use in saving myskin.
I do not know that I need relate what Phroso did when I gave her backher island. These southern races have picturesque but extravagantways. I did not know where to look while she was thanking me, and itwas as much as I could do not to call out, 'Do stop!' Howeverpresently she did stop, but not because I asked her. She was stayed bya sudden thought which had been in my mind all the while, but nowflashed suddenly into hers.
'But Constantine?' she said. 'You know his--his secrets. Won't hestill try to kill you?'
Of course he would if he valued his own neck. For I had sworn to seehim hanged for one murder, and I knew that he meditated another.
'Oh, don't you bother about that!' said I. 'I expect I can manageConstantine.'
'Do you think I'm going to desert you?' she asked in superbindignation.
'No, no; of course not,' I protested, rather in a fright. 'I shouldn'tthink of accusing you of such a thing.'
'You know that's what you meant,' said Phroso, a world of reproach inher voice.
'My dear lady,' said I, 'getting you into trouble won't get me out ofit, and getting you out may get me out. Take that paper in your hand,and go back to your people. Say nothing about Constantine just now;play with him. You know what I've told you, and you won't be deludedby him. Don't let him see that you know anything of the woman at thecottage. It won't help you, it may hurt me, and it will certainlybring her into greater danger; for, if nothing has happened to heralready, yet something may if his suspicions are aroused.'
'I am to do all this. And what will you do, my lord?'
'I say, don't call me "my lord"; we say "Lord Wheatley." What am Igoing to do? I'm going to make a run for it.'
'But they'll kill you!'
'Then shall I stay here?'
'Yes, stay here.'
'But Constantine's fellows will be here before long.'
'You must give yourself up to them, and tell them to bring you to me.They couldn't hurt you then.'
Well, I wasn't sure of that, but I pretended to believe it. The truthis that I dared not tell Phroso what I had actually resolved to do. Itwas a risky job, but it was a chance; and it was more than a chance.It was very like an obligation that a man had no right to shrink fromdischarging. Here was I, planning to make Phroso comfortable; that wasright enough. And here was I planning to keep my own skin whole;well, a man does no wrong in doing that. But what of that unluckywoman on the hill? I knew friend Constantine would take care thatPhroso should not come within speaking distance of her. Was nobody toset her on her guard? Was I to leave her to her blind trust of theruffian whom she was unfortunate enough to call husband, and of histool Vlacho? Now I came to think of it, now that I was separated frommy friends and had no lingering hope of being able to beat Constantinein fair fight, that seemed hardly the right thing, hardly a thing Ishould care to talk about or think about, if I did save my ownprecious skin. Would not Constantine teach his wife the secret of theStefanopouloi? Urged by these reflections, I made up my mind to play alittle trick on Phroso, and feigned to accept her suggestion that Ishould rely on her to save me. Evidently she had great confidence inher influence now that she held that piece of paper. I had lessconfidence in it, for it was clear that Constantine wielded immensepower over these unruly islanders, and I thought it likely enough thatthey would demand from Phroso a promise to marry him as the price ofobeying her; then, whether Constantine did or did not promise me mylife, I felt sure that he would do his best to rob me of it.
Well, time pressed. I rose and unbolted the door of the house. Phrososat still. I looked along the road. I saw nobody, but I heard theblast of the horn which had fallen on my ears once before and hadproved the forerunner of an attack. Phroso also heard it, for she satup, saying, 'Hark, they are summoning all the men to the town! Thatmeans they are coming here.'
But it meant something else also to me; if the men were summoned tothe town there would be fewer for me to elude in the wood.
'Will they all go?' I asked, as though in mere curiosity.
'All who are not on some duty,' she answered.
I had to hope for the best; but Phroso went on in distress:
'It means that they are coming here--here, to take you.'
'Then you must lose no time in going,' said I, and I took her hand andgently raised her to her feet. She stood there for a moment, lookingat me. I had let go her hand, but she took mine again now, and shesaid with a sudden vehemence, and a rush of rich deep red on hercheeks:
'If they kill you, they shall kill me too.'
The words gushed impetuously from her, but at the end there was achoke in her throat.
'No, no, nonsense,' said I. 'You've got the island now. You mustn'ttalk like that.'
'I don't care--' she began; and stopped short.
'Besides, I shall pull through,' said I.
She dropped my hand, b
ut she kept her eyes on mine.
'And if you get away?' she asked. 'What will you do? If you get toRhodes, what will you do?'
'All I shall do is to lay an information against your cousin and theinnkeeper. The rest are ignorant fellows, and I bear them no malice.Besides, they are your men now.'
'And when you've done that?' she asked gravely.
'Well, that'll be all there is to do,' said I, with an attempt atplayful gaiety. It was not a very happy attempt.
'Then you'll go home to your own people?'
'I shall go home; I've got no people in particular.'
'Shall you ever come to Neopalia again?'
'I don't know. Yes, if you invite me.'
She regarded me intently for a full minute. She seemed to haveforgotten the blast of the horn that summoned the islanders. I alsohad forgotten it; I saw nothing but the perfect oval face, crownedwith clustering hair and framing deep liquid eyes. Then she drew aring from her finger.
'You have fought for me,' she said. 'You have risked your life for me.Will you take this ring from me? Once I tried to stab you. Do youremember, my lord?'
I bowed my head, and Phroso set the ring on my finger.
'Wear it till a woman you love gives you one to wear instead,' saidPhroso with a little smile. 'Then go to the edge of your island--youare an islander too, are you not? so we are brethren--go to the edgeof your island and throw it into the sea; and perhaps, my dear friend,the sea will bring it back, a message from you to me. For I think youwill never again come to Neopalia.'
I made no answer: we walked together to the door of the house, andpaused again for a moment on the threshold.
'See the blue sea!' said Phroso. 'Is it not--is not your island--abeautiful island? If God brings you safe to your own land, my lord, asI will pray Him to do on my knees, think kindly of your island, and ofone who dwells there.'
The blast of the horn had died away. The setting sun was turning blueto gold on the quiet water. The evening was very still, as we stoodlooking from the threshold of the door, under the portal of the housethat had seen such strange wild doings, and had so swiftly made foritself a place for ever in my life and memory.
I glanced at Phroso's face. Her eyes were set on the sea, her cheekshad turned pale again, and her lip was quivering. Suddenly came a loudsharp note on the horn.
'It is the signal for the start,' said she. 'I must go, or they willbe here in heat and anger, and I shall not be able to stop them. Andthey will kill my lord. No, I will say "my lord."'
She moved to leave me. I had answered nothing to all she had said.What was there that an honourable man could say? Was there one thing?I told myself (too eager to tell myself) that I had no right topresume to say that. And anything else I would not say.
'God bless you,' I said, as she moved away; I caught her hand andagain lightly kissed it. 'My homage to the Lady of the Island,' Iwhispered.
Her hand dwelt in mine a moment, briefer than our divisions of timecan reckon, fuller than is often the longest of them. Then, with onelast look, questioning, appealing, excusing, protesting, confessing,ay, and (for my sins) hoping, she left me, and stepped along the rockyroad in the grace and glory of her youthful beauty. I stood watchingher, forgetting the woman at the cottage, forgetting my own danger,forgetting even the peril she ran whom I watched, forgettingeverything save the old that bound me and the new that called me. So Istood till she vanished from my sight; and still I stood, for she wasthere, though the road hid her. And I was roused at last only by agreat cry of surprise, of fierce joy and triumph, that rent the stillair of the evening, and echoed back in rumblings from the hill. TheNeopalians were greeting their rescued Lady.
Then I turned, snatched up Hogvardt's lance again, and fled throughthe house to do my errand. For I would save that woman, if I could;and my own life was not mine to lose any more than it was mine to giveto whom I would. And I recollect that, as I ran through the kitchenand across the compound, making for the steps in the bank of rocks, Isaid, 'God forgive me!'