diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-01-28 05:17:03 -0800 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-01-28 05:17:03 -0800 |
| commit | c810d32ecfc8720eaca7dbe599d42654e2e99d9c (patch) | |
| tree | bc948e596f886cc2e8bbf30a09291efff2d154db /old | |
| parent | 0ffe8b899d40e483ede0afa53d0559b5fe97852f (diff) | |
Diffstat (limited to 'old')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/61925-8.txt | 10369 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/61925-8.zip | bin | 205033 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/61925-h.zip | bin | 277714 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/61925-h/61925-h.htm | 12663 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/61925-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 41625 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/61925-h/images/logo.jpg | bin | 22461 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/61925-h/images/title.jpg | bin | 41625 -> 0 bytes |
7 files changed, 0 insertions, 23032 deletions
diff --git a/old/61925-8.txt b/old/61925-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index edc4031..0000000 --- a/old/61925-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10369 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Challenge, by Vita Sackville-West - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: Challenge - -Author: Vita Sackville-West - -Release Date: April 25, 2020 [EBook #61925] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHALLENGE *** - - - - -Produced by Tim Lindell, Martin Pettit and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This -book was produced from images made available by the -HathiTrust Digital Library.) - - - - - - -+-------------------------------------------------+ -|Transcriber's note: | -| | -|Obvious typographic errors have been corrected. | -| | -+-------------------------------------------------+ - - -CHALLENGE - -BY - -V. SACKVILLE-WEST - -[Illustration: Logo] - -GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY - -PUBLISHERS NEW YORK - - -PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN - - - - -DEDICATION - -ACABA EMBEO SIN TIRO, MEN CHUAJAÑI; -LIRENAS, BERJARAS TIRI OCHI BUSÑE, -CHANGERI, TA ARMENSALLE. - - - - -EPILOGUE - - -A man and a woman leaned idly over the balustrade watching the steady -stream of guests that mounted the magnificent staircase. The marble -of the balustrade was cool beneath the woman's bare arms, for it was -summer, and the man, without interrupting his murmur of comment and -anecdote, glanced admiringly at her, and thought that, in spite of -her forty years, she, with diamonds in her hair and the great ropes -of pearls over her shoulders, need not fear comparison with all the -beauty of London assembled at that ball. Her beauty and dignity -melted pleasantly, for him, into the wealth of the house, the lights, -the abundance of flowers, and the distant orchestra. Again the idea -that this woman, for the asking, would decorate his own house with -her presence, and would ornament his own distinguished name, played -flatteringly through his mind. He reflected with gratification that it -lay within his power to do her this honour. For, a vain man, he never -questioned but that the favour would lie entirely on his side. - -He pointed out to her the famous general on the stairs, escorting his -daughter; the new American beauty; the young man recently succeeded to -fabulous estates; the Indian prince who had turned the heads of half -the women in London. Skilful, she paid him the compliment of interest -and amusement, letting it be understood that he was himself of far -greater interest to her than the personages who served as pegs to his -wit. As he paused once, she revived the conversation:-- - -'There is a man I have never seen before; that tall, dark man. And the -handsome woman with him--she must be his wife.' - -'Why must she be his wife?' he asked, amused. - -'Because I am sure she is the type of woman he would marry, stately and -correct; am I not right?' - -'You are quite right; she is his wife. He has been and still is a -very successful man; an Under-Secretary at thirty-five, and in the -Cabinet before he was forty. Many people think that he will be the next -Viceroy.' - -At that moment the man on the stairs looked up, and his eyes met those -of the woman leaning on the balustrade above. - -'What a wonderful face!' she exclaimed, startled, to her companion. -'Wonderful--but he looks as though he had learnt all the sorrow of the -world.--He looks--what shall I say?--so weary.' - -'Then he has no business to,' he answered with a smile. 'He has -everything man can wish for: power, wealth, and, as you can see, an -admirable wife. As usual, however, your perception is unerring: he's -the most cynical fellow I ever came across. He believes in nothing--and -is incidentally the only real philanthropist I know. His name is -perfectly familiar to you. It is Davenant.' - -'Oh,' she said, carried away by her interest, 'is that Julian Davenant? -Of course every one has heard of him. Stay,' she added, searching in -her memory, 'wasn't there some extraordinary story about him as a young -man? some crazy adventure he engaged in? I don't remember exactly....' - -The man at her side began to laugh. - -'There was indeed,' he replied; 'do you remember an absurd tiny -republic named Herakleion, which has since been absorbed by Greece?' - -'Herakleion?' she murmured. 'Why, I have been there in a yacht, I -believe; a little Greek port; but I didn't know it had ever been an -independent republic?' - -'Dear me, yes,' he said, 'it was independent for about a hundred years, -and Julian Davenant as a young man was concerned in some preposterous -revolution in those parts; all his money comes, you know, from his -vine-growing estates out there. I am a little vague myself as to what -actually happened. He was very young at the time, not much more than a -boy.' - -'How romantic,' said the woman absently, as she watched Julian Davenant -shaking hands with his hostess. - -'Very romantic, but we all start by being romantic until we have -outgrown it, and any way, don't you think we are going, you and I, -rather too much out of our way this evening to look for romance?' said -the man, leaning confidentially a little nearer. - - * * * * * * - -But these two people have nothing to do with the story. - - - - -PART I--JULIAN - - - - -I - - -On Sunday, after the races were over, the diplomatic, indigenous, and -cosmopolitan society of Herakleion, by virtue of a custom they never -sought to dispute, streamed through the turnstiles of the race-course -to regain their carriages and to drive for an hour in the ilex avenue -consecrated to that purpose outside the suburbs of the town. Like the -angels on Jacob's ladder, the carriages went up one side and down the -other, at a slow walk, the procession invariably headed by the barouche -of the French Legation, containing M. Lafarge, chief of the mission, -his beard spread fan-like over his frock-coat, but so disposed as to -reveal the rosette in his button-hole, peeping with a coy red eye at -the passing world; Madame Lafarge, sitting erect and bowing stiffly -from her unassailable position as dictator to social Herakleion; and, -on the _strapontin_, Julie Lafarge, repressed, sallow-faced daughter -of the emissaries of France. Streaming after the barouche came mere -humanity, some in victorias, some in open cabs, all going at a walk, -and down the centre rode the young men of the place, and down the -centre Alexander Christopoulos, who dared all and to whom all was -forgiven, drove his light buggy and American trotter at a rattling pace -and in a cloud of dust. - -The diplomatic carriages were distinguished by the presence of a -chasseur on the box, though none so gorgeous as the huge scarlet-coated -chasseur of the French Legation. It was commonly said that the Danish -Minister and his wife, who were poor, denied themselves food in order -to maintain their carriage for the Sunday drive. The rich Greeks, on -the other hand, from generation to generation, inherited the family -brake, which was habitually driven by the head of the clan on the box, -his wife beside him, and his sons and unmarried daughters sitting two -by two, on the six remaining seats behind. There had been a rush of -scandal when Alexander Christopoulos had appeared for the first time -alone in his buggy, his seat in the family brake conspicuously empty. -There remained, however, his four sisters, the Virgins of Herakleion, -whose ages ranged from thirty-five to forty, and whose batteries were -unfailingly directed against the latest arrival. The fifth sister had -married a banker in Frankfort, and was not often mentioned. There were, -besides the brakes of the rich Greeks, the wagonettes of the English -Davenants, who always had English coachmen, and frequently absented -themselves from the Sunday drive to remind Herakleion that, although -resident, they were neither diplomatic, indigenous, nor cosmopolitan, -but unalterably English. They were too numerous and too influential -to be disregarded, but when the name of Davenant was mentioned in -their absence, a murmur was certain to make itself heard, discreet, -unvindictive, but none the less remorseless, 'Ah yes, the English -Levantines.' - -Sunshades were lowered in the ilex avenue, for the shadows of the -ancient trees fell cool and heavy across the white dust. Through the -ilexes, the sea glimmered on a lower level, washing idly on the shore; -vainly blue, for Herakleion had no eyes for the sea. The sea was always -there, always blue, just as Mount Mylassa was always there, behind the -town, monotonous and immovable. The sea was made for the transport of -merchandise and to provide man with fish. No one had ever discovered a -purpose in Mount Mylassa. - -When the French barouche had reached the end of the avenue, it turned -gravely in a wide circle and took its place at the head of the -descending carriages. When it had reached its starting-point, the -entrance to the avenue, it detached itself from the procession and -continued on its way towards the town. The procession did not follow -it. Another turn up and down the avenue remained for the procession, -and the laughter became perceptibly brighter, the smiles of greeting -more cordial, with the removal of Madame Lafarge's influence. It was -known that the barouche would pass the race-course at its former -dignified walk, but that, once out of sight, Madame Lafarge would say, -'_Grigora_, Vassili!' to the chasseur, that the horses would be urged -into a shambling trot and that the ladies in the carriage would open -their sunshades to keep off the glare of the sun which beat down from -heaven and reverberated from the pavements and the white walls of the -houses as they drove through the streets of the deserted town. - -Deserted, for that part of the population which was not within doors -strolled in the ilex avenue, looking at the carriages. A few lean -dogs slept on door-steps where the shadow of the portico fell sharply -dividing the step into a dark and a sunny half. The barouche rolled -along the wide quay, where here and there the parapet was broken by a -flight of steps descending to the water; passed the casino, white, with -palms and cacti growing hideously in the forecourt; rolled across the -square _platia_, where a group of men stood lounging within the cool -and cavernous passage-way of the club. - -Madame Lafarge stopped the barouche. - -A young man detached himself from the group with a slightly bored -and supercilious expression. He was tall beyond the ordinary run of -Frenchmen; had dark eyes under meeting eyebrows in an ivory face, and -an immensely high, flat, white brow, from which the black wavy hair -grew straight back, smoothed to the polish of a black greyhound. 'Our -Persian miniature,' the fat American wife of the Danish Minister, -called him, establishing herself as the wit of Herakleion, where any -one with sufficient presumption could establish him or herself in any -chosen rôle. The young man had accepted the title languidly, but had -taken care that it should not die forgotten. - -Madame Lafarge said to him in a tone which conveyed a command rather -than proffered a favour, 'If you like, we can drive you to the -Legation.' - -She spoke in a booming voice that burst surprisingly out of the -compression of a generously furnished bust. The young man, accepting -the offer, seated himself beside Julie on the _strapontin_ opposite his -chief, who sat silent and majestically bearded. The immense chasseur -stood stiffly by the side of the carriage, his eyes gazing unblinkingly -across the _platia_, and the tips of his long drooping whiskers -obscuring the braid of his scarlet collar. Madame Lafarge addressed -herself to the group of men,-- - -'I did not see you at the races?' - -Her graciousness did not conceal the rebuke. She continued,-- - -'I shall hope to welcome you presently at the Legation.' - -With a bow worthy of Theodora, whom she had once been told that she -resembled, she gave the order to drive on. The loaded barouche, with -the splendid red figure on the box, rolled away across the dazzling -square. The French Legation stood back behind a grille in the main -street of the town, built of white stucco like the majority of the -houses. Inside, it was cool and dark, the Venetian blinds were -drawn, and the lighted candles in the sconces on the walls reflected -pleasantly, and with a curious effect of freshening night, in the -polished floors. Gilt chairs were arranged in circles, and little -tables stood about, glitteringly laden with tall tumblers and bottles -of coloured sirops. Madame Lafarge surveyed these things as she had -surveyed them every Sunday evening since Julie could remember. The -young man danced attendance in his languid way. - -'The chandeliers may be lighted,' her Excellency said to the chasseur, -who had followed. - -The three stood watching while the candles sprang into little spears -of light under the touch of the taper, Madame Lafarge contrasting -displeasedly the lemon sallowness of her daughter's complexion with the -warm magnolia-like pallor of the secretary's face. The contrast caused -her to speak sharply,-- - -'Julie, you had better go now and take off your hat.' - -When her submissive daughter had gone, she said,-- - -'Julie is looking ill. The summer does not suit her. But what is to be -done? I cannot leave Herakleion.' - -'Obviously,' murmured the secretary, 'Herakleion would fall all to -pieces. Your Sunday evenings,' he continued, 'the races ... your -picnics....' - -'Impossible,' she cried with determination. 'One owes a duty to the -country one represents, and I have always said that, whereas politics -are the affairs of men, the woman's social obligation is no less -urgent. It is a great career, Armand, and to such a career one must be -prepared to sacrifice one's personal convenience.' - -'And one's health ... the health of one's children,' he added, looking -down at his almond nails. - -'If need be,' she replied with a sigh, and, fanning herself, repeated, -'If need be.' - -The rooms began to fill. A little middle-aged Greek, his wrinkled -saffron face curiously emphasised by the beautiful whiteness of his -hair and moustaches, took his stand near Madame Lafarge, who in -speaking to him looked down on the top of his head over the broad -plateau of her bust. - -'These cool rooms of yours,' he murmured, as he kissed her hand. 'One -cannot believe in the heat of the sun outside.' - -He made this remark every other Sunday. - -Lafarge came up and took the little Greek banker by the arm. - -'I hear,' he said, 'that there is fresh trouble in the Islands.' - -'We can leave it to the Davenants,' said Christopoulos with an -unpleasant smile. - -'But that is exactly what I have always urged you not to do,' said the -French Minister, drawing the little Greek into a corner. 'You know the -proverbial reputation of the English: you do not see them coming, but -they insinuate themselves until one day you open your eyes to the fact -that they are there. You will be making a very great mistake, my dear -friend, if you allow the Davenants to settle disputes in the Islands. -Have you forgotten that in the last generation a Davenant caused -himself to be elected President?' - -'Considering that they are virtually kings, I do not see that the -nominal title of President can make a vast difference.' - -Lafarge sent his eyes round the room and through the doorway into the -room beyond; he saw the familiar, daily faces, and returned to the -charge. - -'You are pleased to be sarcastic, I know. Nevertheless allow me to -offer you my advice. It is not a question of Kingship or Presidency. -It is a question of a complete break on the part of the Islands. They -are small, but their strategic value is self-evident. Remember Italy -has her eye upon them.... The Davenants are democrats, and have always -preached liberty to the islanders. The Davenant wealth supports them. -Can you calmly contemplate the existence of an independent archipelago -a few miles from your shore?' - -A dull red crept under the banker's yellow skin, giving him a suffused -appearance. - -'You are very emphatic.' - -'The occasion surely warrants emphasis.' - -The rooms were by now quite full. Little centres of laughter had formed -themselves, and were distinguishable. Alexander Christopoulos had once -boasted that he could, merely by looking round a room and arguing -from the juxtaposition of conversationalists, give a fairly accurate -_résumé_ of what every one was saying. He also claimed to tell from the -expression of the Danish Excellency whether she was or was not arriving -primed with a new epigram. He was now at the side of the Danish -Excellency, fat, fair, and foolish, but good-natured, and having a fund -of veritable humanity which was lacking in most of her colleagues. The -careful English of Alexander reached his father's ears through the -babel,-- - -'The Empress Eugénie set the fashion of wearing _décolleté_ in the -shape the water in your bath makes round your shoulders....' - -Lafarge went on,-- - -'The Davenants are sly; they keep apart; they mix with us, but they do -not mingle. They are like oil upon water. Where is William Davenant -now, do you know?' - -'He is just arriving,' said Christopoulos. - -Lafarge saw him then, bowing over his hostess's hand, polite, but with -absent eyes that perpetually strayed from the person he was talking to. -Behind him came a tall, loose-limbed boy, untidy, graceful; he glanced -at the various groups, and the women looked at him with interest. A -single leap might carry him at any moment out of the room in which his -presence seemed so incongruous. - -The tall mirrors on the walls sent back the reflection of the many -candles, and in them the same spectral company came and went that -moved and chattered in the rooms. - -'At least he is not on the Islands,' said Christopoulos. - -'After all,' said Lafarge, with a sudden weariness, 'perhaps I am -inclined to exaggerate the importance of the Islands. It is difficult -to keep a true sense of proportion. Herakleion is a little place. One -forgets that one is not at the centre of the world.' - -He could not have tracked his lassitude to its origin, but as his -eyes rested again on the free, generous limbs of the Davenant boy, -he felt a slight revolt against the babble, the coloured sirops, and -the artificially lighted rooms from which the sun was so carefully -excluded. The yellow skin of little Christopoulos gave him the -appearance of a plant which has been deprived of light. His snowy hair, -too, soft and billowy, looked as though it had been deliberately and -consistently bleached. - -He murmured a gentle protest to the Minister's words,-- - -'Surely not, dear Excellency, surely you do not exaggerate the -importance of the Islands. We could not, as you say, tolerate the -existence of an independent archipelago a few miles from our shores. Do -not allow my sarcasm to lead you into the belief that I underestimate -either their importance, or the value, the compliment of your interest -in the politics of our country. The friendship of France....' - -His voice died away into suave nothings. The French Minister emerged -with an effort from his mood of temporary discontent, endeavouring to -recapture the habitual serenity of his life. - -'And you will remember my hint about the Davenants?' - -Christopoulos looked again at William Davenant, who, perfectly -courteous but incorrigibly absent-minded, was still listening to Madame -Lafarge. - -'It is a scandal,' she was saying, resuming her conversation in the -intervals of interruption occasioned by newly-arriving guests, 'a -scandal that the Museum should remain without a catalogue....' - -'I will remember,' said Christopoulos. 'I will tell Alexander to -distract that youth's attention; one Davenant the less, you follow me, -to give us any trouble.' - -'Pooh! a schoolboy,' interjected the Minister. - -Christopoulos pursed his lips and moved his snowy head portentously up -and down. - -'A schoolboy, but nevertheless he probably shares the enthusiasms -of his age. The Islands are sufficiently romantic to appeal to his -imagination. Remember, his grandfather ruled there for a year.' - -'His grandfather? _un farceur!_' said Lafarge. - -Christopoulos assented, and the two men, smiling tolerantly, continued -to look across at the unconscious boy though their minds were already -occupied by other things. Madame Lafarge, catching sight of them, -was annoyed by her husband's aloofness from the social aspect of her -weekly reception. It pleased her--in fact, she exacted--that a certain -political atmosphere should pervade any gathering in her drawing-rooms, -but at the same time she resented a political interview which deprived, -at once, her guests of a host and herself of a _cavalier servente_. She -accordingly stared at Christopoulos while continuing her conversation -with William Davenant, until the little Greek became aware of her gaze, -and crossed the room obediently to the unspoken summons. - -William Davenant moved away in relief; he knew his duty to Madame -Lafarge, but performed it wearily and without pleasure. It was now -over for a month, he thought, deciding that he would not be expected -to attend the three succeeding Sundays. He paused beside his son, who -had been captured by two of the sisters Christopoulos and who, with -two Russian secretaries, was being forced to join in a round game. -The sisters gave little shrieks and peals of laughter; it was their -idea of merriment. They sat one on each side of Julian Davenant, on a -small gilt sofa covered with imitation tapestry. Near by, listening -to the game with a gentle and languorous smile upon his lips, stood -the Persian Minister, who understood very little French, his fine -Oriental figure buttoned into the traditional frock-coat, and a black -lamb's-wool fez upon his head. He was not very popular in Herakleion; -he did not know enough French to amuse the women, so, as at present, he -silently haunted the circles of the younger generation, with mingled -humility and dignity. - -William Davenant paused there for a moment, met his son's eyes with -a gleam of sympathy, then passed on to pay his monthly duty to -influence and fashion. The Danish Excellency whispered behind her fan -to Alexander Christopoulos as he passed, and the young man screwed in -his eyeglass to examine the retreating back of the Englishman. The -red-coated chasseur came round, gravely offering sandwiches on a tray. - -'Uneatable,' said Alexander Christopoulos, taking one and hiding it -beneath his chair. - -The courage of the young man! the insolence! - -'Julie will see you,' giggled the Danish Excellency. - -'And what if she does?' he retorted. - -'You have no respect, no veneration,' she chided him. - -'For _maman_ Lafarge? _la bonne bourgeoise!_' he exclaimed, but not -very loudly. - -'Alexander!' she said, but her tone said, 'I adore you.' - -'One must be something,' the young Christopoulos had once told -himself; 'I will be insolent and contemptuous; I will impose myself -upon Herakleion; my surroundings shall accept me with admiration and -without protest.' - -He consequently went to Oxford, affected to speak Greek with -difficulty, interlarded his English with American slang, instituted a -polo club, and drove an American trotter. He was entirely successful. -Unlike many a greater man, he had achieved his ambition. He knew, -moreover, that Madame Lafarge would give him her daughter for the -asking. - -'Shall I make Julie sing?' he said suddenly to the Danish Excellency, -searching among the moving groups for the victim of this classic joke -of Herakleion. - -'Alexander, you are too cruel,' she murmured. - -He was flattered; he felt himself an irresistible autocrat and breaker -of hearts. He tolerated the Danish Excellency, as he had often said in -the club, because she had no other thought than of him. She, on the -other hand, boasted in her fat, good-humoured way to her intimates,-- - -'I may be a fool, but no woman is completely a fool who has realised -the depths of man's vanity.' - -Julie Lafarge, who was always given to understand that one day she -would marry the insolent Alexander, was too efficiently repressed to -be jealous of the Danish Excellency. Under the mischievous influence -of her friend, Eve Davenant, she would occasionally make an attempt to -attract the young man; a pitiable, grotesque attempt, prompted by the -desire to compel his homage, to hear herself called beautiful--which -she was not. So far she did not delude herself that she had succeeded, -but she did delude herself that it gave him pleasure to hear her -sing. She stood now beside a little table, dispensing sirops in tall -tumblers, very sallow in her white muslin, with a locket on a short -gold chain hanging between the bones of her neck. Her very thin -brown arms, which were covered with small black hairs, protruded -ungracefully from the short sleeves of her dress. - -Alexander presented himself before her; she had seen him coming in one -of the mirrors on the walls. Madame Lafarge cherished an affection for -these mirrors, because thanks to them her drawing-rooms always appeared -twice as crowded as they really were. - -Alexander uttered his request in a tone at once beseeching and -compelling; she thought him irresistible. Nevertheless, she protested: -there were too many people present, her singing would interrupt all -conversation, her mother would be annoyed. But those standing near by -seconded Alexander, and Madame Lafarge herself bore down majestically -upon her daughter, so that all protest was at an end. - -Julie stood beside the open piano with her hands loosely folded in -a rehearsed and approved attitude while the room disposed itself to -listen, and Alexander, who was to accompany her, let his fingers roam -negligently over the keyboard. Chairs were turned to face the piano, -people drifted in from the farther drawing-room, young men leaned in -the doorways and against the walls. Lafarge folded his arms across -his chest, freeing his imprisoned beard by an upward movement of his -chin, and smiled encouragingly and benignly at his daughter. Speech -dropped into whispers, whispers into silence. Alexander struck a few -preliminary chords. Julie sang; she sang, quite execrably, romantic -German music, and out of the roomful of people only three, herself, her -father, and her mother, thought that she sang well. Despite this fact -she was loudly applauded, congratulated, and pressed for more. - -Julian Davenant, taking advantage of the diversion to escape from the -sisters Christopoulos, slipped away to one of the window recesses where -he could partly conceal himself behind the stiff, brocaded curtain. -Horizontal strings of sunlight barred the Venetian blind, and by -peeping between its joints he could see the tops of the palms in the -Legation forecourt, the iron grille which gave on to the main street, -and a victoria standing near the grille, in the shade, the horse -covered over with a flimsy, dust-coloured sheet, and the driver asleep -inside the carriage, a fly-whisk drooping limply in his hand. He could -hear the shrill squeaking of the tram as it came round the corner, and -the clang of its bell. He knew that the sea lay blue beyond the white -town, and that, out in the sea, lay the Islands, where the little -grapes were spread, drying into currants, in the sun. He returned to -the darkened, candle-lit room, where Julie Lafarge was singing 'Im -wunderschönen Monat Mai.' - -Looking across the room to the door which opened on to the landing -at the top of the stairs, he saw a little stir of arrival, which -was suppressed in order to avoid any interruption to the music. He -distinguished the new-comer, a short, broad, middle-aged woman, -out of breath after mounting the stairs, curiously draped in soft -copper-coloured garments, with gold bangles on her bare arms, and -a wreath of gold leaves round her dark head. He knew this woman, a -singer. He neither liked nor disliked her, but had always thought of -her as possessing a strangely classical quality, all the stranger -because of her squat, almost grotesque ugliness; although not a dwarf, -her great breadth gave her the appearance of one; but at the same time -she was for him the embodiment of the wealth of the country, a kind -of Demeter of the Islands, though he thought of Demeter as having -corn-coloured hair, like the crops over which she presided, and this -woman had blue-black hair, like the purple of the grapes that grew on -the Islands. He had often heard her sing, and hoped now that she was -arriving in her professional capacity, which seemed probable, both -from her dress, and from the unlikelihood that she, a singer and a -woman of the native people, would enter Madame Lafarge's house as a -guest, renowned though she was, and fêted, in the capitals of Europe. -He saw Lafarge tiptoe out to receive her, saw Madame Lafarge follow, -and noted the faintly patronising manner of the Minister's wife in -shaking hands with the artist. - -Applause broke out as Julie finished her song. The Greek singer -was brought forward into the room amid a general movement and -redistribution of groups. Alexander Christopoulos relinquished his -place at the piano, and joined the Davenant boy by the window. He -appeared bored and languid. - -'It is really painful ... as well listen to a macaw singing,' he said. -'You are not musical, are you, Julian? You can scarcely imagine what I -endured. Have you heard this woman, Kato?' - -Julian said that he had. - -'Quite uneducated,' Christopoulos said loftily. 'Any woman in the -fields sings as well. It was new to Paris, and Paris raved. You and I, -my dear Julian, have heard the same thing a hundred times. Shall we -escape?' - -'I must wait for my father,' said Julian, who detested his present -companion; 'he and I are going to dine with my uncle.' - -'So am I,' Christopoulos answered, and, leaning over to the English -boy, he began to speak in a confidential voice. - -'You know, my dear Julian, in this society of ours your father is not -trusted. But, after all, what is this society? _un tas de rastas._ -Do you think I shall remain here long? not I. _Je me fiche des -Balcans._ And you? Are you going to bury yourself on those Islands of -yours, growing grapes, ripening olives? What? That satisfied the old -generations. What have I to do with a banking house in Herakleion, you -with a few vineyards near the coast? I shall marry, and spend the rest -of my life in Paris.' - -'You're ambitious to-day,' Julian said mildly. - -'Ambitious! shall I tell you why? Yesterday was my twenty-fifth -birthday. I've done with Herakleion....' - -'Conquered it, you mean,' said Julian, 'squeezed it dry.' - -The other glanced at him suspiciously. - -'Are you laughing at me? Confound your quiet manner, Julian, I believe -my family is right to mistrust your family. Very well, then: conquered -it. Believe me, it isn't worth conquering. Don't waste your youth on -your vineyards, but come with me. Let the Islands go. They are always -in trouble, and the trouble is getting more acute. They are untidy -specks on the map. Don't you hear the call of Paris and the world?' - -Julian, looking at him, and seeing the laughable intrigue, was -mercifully saved from replying, for at that moment Madame Kato began -to sing. She sang without accompaniment, songs of the people, in a -curiously guttural voice with an occasionally nasal note, songs no -different from those sung in the streets or, as Christopoulos had -said, in the fields, different only in that, to this peasant music, -half melancholy, half emotional, its cadence born of physical labour, -she brought the genius of a great artist. As she stood there, singing, -Julian reflected that her song emphasised the something classical, -something massive, something monumental, about her, which overshadowed -what might have been slightly grotesque in her appearance. She was, -indeed, a Demeter of the vineyards. She should have stood singing in -the sun, not beneath the pale mockery of the candles. - -'Entirely uneducated,' Christopoulos said again, shifting his -shoulders as he leaned against the wall. 'That is why Paris liked her: -as a contrast. She was clever enough to know that. Contrasts are always -artistically effective.' - -He went off, pleased, to repeat his facile epigram to the Danish -Excellency. Madame Lafarge was looking round to see whether the -audience had approved of the innovation. The audience was waiting -to hear the expression of an opinion which it might safely follow. -Presently the word, 'Uneducated' was on every lip. Julian remained at -the window, chained there by his natural reserve and shyness; he looked -up at the lighted chandeliers, and down at their reflection in the -floors; he saw the faces of people turned towards him, and the back -of their heads in the mirrors; he saw Armand, the French secretary, -with the face of a Persian prince, offering red sirop to Madame Kato. -He wished to go and speak to her, but his feet would not carry him -forward. He felt himself apart from the talk and the easy laughter. - -Presently Mlle Lafarge, seeing him there alone, came to him with her -awkward and rather touching grace as a hostess. - -'You know, I suppose,' she said to him, 'that Madame Kato is a friend -of Eve's? Will you not come and speak to her?' - -Released, he came. The singer was drinking her red sirop by the piano. -The Persian Minister in the black fez was standing near, smiling gently -at her with his usual mournful smile. - -'You will not remember me, Julian Davenant,' the boy said in a low, shy -voice. He spoke in Greek involuntarily, feeling that French would be an -outrage in the presence of this so splendidly Hellenic woman. Armand -had moved away, and they stood isolated, caressed by the vague smile of -the Persian Minister. - -Kato set down her glass of red sirop on the top of the piano. She -leaned against the piano talking to the English boy, her arms akimbo, -as a peasant woman might lean in the doorway of her house gossiping in -the cool of the evening, her little eyes keen and eager. The muscles -of her arms and of her magnificent neck curved generously beneath her -copper draperies, mocking the flimsy substance, and crying out for the -labour of the vineyards. Her speech was tinged with the faint accent of -the Islands, soft and slurring. It was more familiar to Julian Davenant -than the harsher Greek of the town, for it was the speech of the women -who had brought him up as a child, women of the Islands, his nurses in -his father's big house in the _platia_ of Herakleion. It murmured to -him now in the rich voice of the singer beneath the chandelier. - -'Eve; I have not seen her yet. You must tell her that I have returned -and that she must come to my concert on Wednesday. Tell her that I will -sing one song for her, but that all the other songs must be for my -audience. I have brought back a new repertoire from Munich, which will -please Herakleion better, I hope, than the common music it despises.' - -She laughed a little. - -'It has taken me thirty years to discover that mankind at large -despises the art of its own country. Only the exotic catches the ear of -fashion. But Eve has told me that you do not care for music?' - -'I like your music,' he said. - -'I will tell you why: because you are musically uneducated.' - -He looked at her; she was smiling. He wondered whether she had -overheard a whisper in the humming room. - -'I speak without sarcasm,' she added; 'I envy you your early ignorance. -In fact, I believe I have uttered a paradox, and that the words -education and music are incompatible. Music is the emotional art, and -where education steps in at the door emotion flies out at the window. -We should keep education for literature, painting, architecture, -and sculpture. Music is the medium to which we turn when these more -intellectual mediums fail us.' - -Julian listened with only half his brain. This peasant, this artist, -spoke to him with the superficial ease of drawing-rooms; she employed -words that matched ill with her appearance and with the accent of -her speech. The native songs were right upon her lips, as the names -of architecture and sculpture were wrong. He was offended in his -sensitiveness. Demeter in analysis of the arts! - -She was watching him. - -'Ah, my young friend,' she said, 'you do not understand. I spoke to you -as the cousin of Eve, who is a child, but who always understands. She -is purely sentient, emotional.' - -He protested,-- - -'I have always thought of Eve as exceptionally sophisticated.' - -Kato said,-- - -'You are right. We are both right. Eve is childlike in many ways, but -she is also wise beyond her years. She will grow, believe me, into a -woman of exceptional attraction, and to such women existence is packed -with danger. It is one of Providence's rare pieces of justice that they -should be provided with a natural weapon of self-defence. To a lion -his claws,' she said, smiling, 'and to the womanly woman the gift of -penetration. Tell me, are you fond of Eve?' - -Julian was surprised. He replied, naïf again and like a schoolboy,-- - -'She's my cousin. I haven't thought much about her. She's only a -child. I haven't seen her yet either. I arrived from England this -morning.' - -They were more than ever isolated from the rest of the room. Madame -Lafarge, talking to Don Rodrigo Valdez, the Spanish Minister, who had -a birdlike head above his immensely high white collar, glanced now and -then resentfully at the singer, but otherwise the room was indifferent. -The sunlight between the cracks of the Venetian blinds had grown -fainter, and the many candles were coming into their own. A few people -had already taken their leave. An excited group of men had gathered -round little Christopoulos, and the words 'local politics' shrieked -from every gesture. - -'I shall not be expected to sing again,' said Kato with a slight return -to her ironical manner. 'Will you not come with Eve to my concert on -Wednesday? Or, better, will you come to my house on Wednesday evening -after the concert? I shall be alone, and I should like to talk to you.' - -'To me?' broke from him, independently of his will. - -'Remember,' she said, 'I am from the Islands. That is my country, and -when my country is in trouble I am not indifferent. You are very young, -Mr Davenant, and you are not very often in Herakleion, but your future, -when you have done with Oxford and with England'--she made a large -gesture--'lies in the Islands. You will hear a great deal about them; a -little of this I should like you to hear from me. Will you come?' - -The patriot beneath the artist! He would come, flattered, important; -courted, at his nineteen years, by a singer of European reputation. -Popularity was to him a new experience. He expanded beneath its warmth. - -'I will come to the concert first with Eve.' - -William Davenant, in search of his son, and light-hearted in his -relief at the end of the monthly duty, was bowing to Madame Kato, whom -he knew both as a singer and as a figure of some importance in the -troubled politics of the tiny State. They had, in their lives, spent -many an hour in confabulation, when his absent-minded manner left -the man, and her acquired polish the woman. He deferred to her as a -controlling agent in practical affairs, spoke of her to his brother -with admiration. - -'A remarkable woman, Robert, a true patriot; sexless, I believe, so far -as her patriotism lies. Malteios, you say? well, I know; but, believe -me, she uses him merely as a means to her end. Not a sexless means? -Damn it, one picks up what weapons come to one's hand. She hasn't a -thought for him, only for her wretched country. She is a force, I tell -you, to be reckoned with. Forget her sex! Surely that is easy, with -a woman who looks like a toad. You make the mistake of ignoring the -people when it is with the people that you have to deal. Hear them -speak about her: she is an inspiration, a local Joan of Arc. She works -for them in Paris, in Berlin, and in London; she uses her sex, for them -and for them alone. All her life is dedicated to them. She gives them -her voice, and her genius.' - -Madame Kato did not know that he said these things about her behind -her back. Had she known, she would have been surprised neither at -the opinions he expressed nor at the perception which enabled him to -express them, for she had seen in him a shrewd, deliberate intellect -that spoke little, listened gravely, and settled soberly down at length -upon a much tested and corroborated opinion. Madame Lafarge, and the -women to whom he paid his courtly, rather pompous duty in public, -thought him dull and heavy, a true Englishman. The men mistrusted him -in company with his brother Robert, silence, in the South, breeding -mistrust as does volubility in the North. - -The rooms were emptier now, and the candles, burning lower, showed long -icicles of wax that overflowed on to the glass of the chandeliers. The -tall tumblers had been set down, here and there, containing the dregs -of the coloured sirops. Madame Lafarge looked hot and weary, drained -of her early Sunday energy, and listening absently to the parting -compliments of Christopoulos. From the other room, however, still came -the laughter of the Christopoulos sisters, who were winding up their -round game. - -'Come, Julian,' said William Davenant, after he had spoken and made his -farewells to Madame Kato. - -Together they went down the stairs and out into the forecourt, where -the hotter air of the day greeted them after the coolness of the house, -though the heat was no longer that of the sun, but the closer, less -glaring heat of the atmosphere absorbed during the grilling hours of -the afternoon. The splendid chasseur handed them their hats, and they -left the Legation and walked slowly down the crowded main street of the -town. - - - - -II - - -The town house of the Davenants stood in the _platia_, at right angles -to the club. On the death of old Mr Davenant--'President Davenant,' as -he was nicknamed--the town and the country properties had been divided -between the two inheriting brothers; Herakleion said that the brothers -had drawn lots for the country house, but in point of fact the matter -had been settled by amicable arrangement. William Davenant, the elder -of the brothers, widowed, with an only son away for three-quarters of -the year at school in England, was more conveniently installed in the -town, within five minutes reach of the central office, than Robert, -who, with a wife and a little girl, preferred the distance of his -country house and big garden. The two establishments, as time went on, -became practically interchangeable. - -The rue Royale--Herakleion was so cosmopolitan as to give to its -principal thoroughfare a French name--was at this hour crowded with -the population that, imprisoned all day behind closed shutters, sought -in the evening what freshness it could find in the cobbled streets -between the stucco houses. The street life of the town began between -five and six, and the Davenants, father and son, were jostled as they -walked slowly along the pavements, picking their way amongst the small -green tables set outside the numerous cafés. At these tables sat the -heterogenous elements that composed the summer population of the place, -men of every nationality: old gamblers too disreputable for Monte -Carlo; young Levantines, natives, drinking absinthe; Turks in their red -fezzes; a few rakish South Americans. The trams screamed discordantly -in their iron grooves, and the bells of the cinema tinkled unceasingly. -Between the tramlines and the kerb dawdled the hired victorias, few -empty at this time of day, but crowded with families of Levantines, -the men in straw hats, the women for the most part in hot black, very -stout, and constantly fanning their heavily powdered faces. Now and -then a chasseur from some diplomatic house passed rapidly in a flaming -livery. - -Mr Davenant talked to his son as they made their way along. - -'How terrible those parties are. I often wish I could dissociate myself -altogether from that life, and God knows that I go merely to hear what -people are saying. They know it, and of course they will never forgive -me. Julian, in order to conciliate Herakleion, you will have to marry a -Greek.' - -'Alexander Christopoulos attacked me to-day,' Julian said. 'Wanted me -to go to Paris with him and see the world.' - -He did not note in his own mind that he refrained from saying that -Madame Kato had also, so to speak, attacked him on the dangerous -subject of the Islands. - -They turned now, having reached the end of the rue Royale, into the -_platia_, where the cavernous archway of the club stained the white -front of the houses with a mouth of black. The houses of the _platia_ -were large, the hereditary residences of the local Greek families. The -Christopoulos house stood next to the club, and next to that was the -house of the Premier, His Excellency Platon Malteios, and next to that -the Italian Consulate, with the arms of Italy on a painted hatchment -over the door. The centre of the square was empty, cobbled in an -elaborate pattern which gave the effect of a tessellated pavement; on -the fourth side of the square were no houses, for here lay the wide -quay which stretched right along above the sea from one end of the -town to the other. - -The Davenant house faced the sea, and from the balcony of his bedroom -on the second floor Julian could see the Islands, yellow with little -white houses on them; in the absolute stillness and limpidity of the -air he could count the windows on Aphros, the biggest island, and the -terraces on the slope of the hills. The first time he had arrived from -school in England he had run up to his bedroom, out on to the balcony, -to look across the _platia_ with its many gaudily striped sunblinds, -at the blue sea and the little yellow stains a few miles out from the -shore. - -At the door of the Davenant house stood two horses ready saddled in -the charge of the door-keeper, fat Aristotle, an islander, who wore -the short bolero and pleated fustanelle, like a kilt, of his country. -The door-keepers of the other houses had gathered round him, but as Mr -Davenant came up they separated respectfully and melted away to their -individual charges. - -The way lay along the quays and down the now abandoned ilex avenue. The -horses' hoofs padded softly in the thick dust. The road gleamed palely -beneath the thick shadows of the trees, and the water, seen between -the ancient trunks, was almost purple. The sun was gone, and only the -last bars of the sunset lingered in the sky. At the tip of the pier of -Herakleion twinkled already the single light of phosphorescent green -that daily, at sunset, shone out, to reflect irregularly in the water. - -They passed out of the avenue into the open country, the road still -skirting the sea on their left, while on their right lay the strip of -flat country crowded in between Mount Mylassa and the sea, carefully -cultivated by the labourers of the Davenants, where the grapes hung -on the festooned branches looped from pole to pole. William Davenant -observed them critically, thinking to himself, 'A good harvest.' -Julian Davenant, fresh from an English county, saw as with a new eye -their beauty and their luxuriance. He rode loosely in the saddle, his -long legs dangling, indisputably English, though born in one of the -big painted rooms overlooking the _platia_ of Herakleion, and reared -in the country until the age of ten. He had always heard the vintage -discussed since he could remember. He knew that his family for three -generations had been the wealthiest in the little state, wealthier -than the Greek banking-houses, and he knew that no move of the local -politics was entirely free from the influence of his relations. His -grandfather, indeed, having been refused a concession he wanted from -the government, had roused his Islands to a declaration of independence -under his own presidency--a state of affairs which, preposterous as it -was, had profoundly alarmed the motley band that made up the Cabinet in -Herakleion. What had been done once, could be repeated.... Granted his -concession, Julian's grandfather had peaceably laid down the dignity of -his new office, but who could say that his sons might not repeat the -experiment? - -These things had been always in the boy's scheme of life. He had not -pondered them very deeply. He supposed that one day he would inherit -his father's share in the concern, and would become one of the heads of -the immense family which had spread like water over various districts -of the Mediterranean coasts. Besides the Davenants of Herakleion, -there were Davenants at Smyrna, Davenants at Salonica, Davenants at -Constantinople. Colonies of Davenants. It was said that the Levant -numbered about sixty families of Davenants. Julian was not acquainted -with them all. He did not even know in what degree of relationship they -stood to him. - -Every time that he passed through London on his way to school, or, -now, to Oxford, he was expected to visit his great-uncle, Sir Henry, -who lived in an immense house in Belgrave Square, and had a business -room downstairs where Julian was interviewed before luncheon. In this -room hung framed plans of the various Davenant estates, and Julian, as -he stood waiting for Sir Henry, would study the plan of Herakleion, -tracing with his finger the line of the quays, the indent of the -_platia_, the green of the race-course, the square which indicated the -country house; in a corner of this plan were the Islands, drawn each in -separate detail. He became absorbed, and did not notice the entrance of -Sir Henry till the old man's hand fell on his shoulder. - -'Ha! Looking at the plan, are you? Familiar to you, what? So it is -familiar to me, my boy. Never been there, you know. Yet I know it. I -know my way about. Know it as though I had seen it.' - -He didn't really know it, Julian thought--he didn't feel the sun -hot on his hands, or see the dazzling, flapping sunblinds, or the -advertisements written up in Greek characters in the streets. - -Sir Henry went on with his sermon. - -'You don't belong there, boy; don't you ever forget that. You belong -here. You're English. Bend the riches of that country to your own -purpose, that's all right, but don't identify yourself with it. Impose -yourself. Make 'em adopt your methods. That's the strength of English -colonisation.' - -The old man, who was gouty, and leaned his hands on the top of a stick, -clapped the back of one hand with the palm of the other and blew out -his lips, looking at his great-nephew. - -'Yes, yes, remember that. Impose yourself. On my soul, you're a -well-grown boy. What are you? nineteen? Great overgrown colt. Get your -hair cut. Foreign ways; don't approve of that. Big hands you've got; -broad shoulders. Loosely put together. Hope you're not slack. Can you -ride?' - -'I ride all day out there,' said Julian softly, a little bewildered. - -'Well, well. Come to luncheon. Keep a head on your shoulders. Your -grandfather lost his once; very foolish man. Wonder he didn't lose -it altogether. President indeed! stuff and nonsense. Not practical, -sir, not practical.' Sir Henry blew very hard. 'Let's have no such -rubbish from you, boy. What'll you drink? Here, I'll give you the best: -Herakleion, 1895. Best year we ever had. Hope you appreciate good wine; -you're a wine-merchant, you know.' - -He cackled loudly at his joke. Julian drank the wine that had ripened -on the slopes of Mount Mylassa, or possibly on the Islands, and wished -that the old man had not so blatantly called him a wine-merchant. He -liked Sir Henry, although after leaving him he always had the sensation -of having been buffeted by spasmodic gusts of wind. - -He was thinking about Sir Henry now as he rode along, and pitying -the old man to whom those swags of fruit meant only a dusty bottle, -a red or a blue seal, and a date stamped in gold numerals on a black -label. The light was extraordinarily tender, and the air seemed almost -tangible with the heavy, honeyed warmth that hung over the road. Julian -took off his gray felt hat and hung it on the high peak of his saddle. - -They passed through a little village, which was no more than a score of -tumbledown houses sown carelessly on each side of the road; here, as -in the rue Royale, the peasants sat drinking at round tables outside -the café to the harsh music of a gramophone, with applause and noisy -laughter. Near by, half a dozen men were playing at bowls. When they -saw Mr Davenant, they came forward in a body and laid eager hands on -the neck of his horse. He reined up. - -Julian heard the tumult of words: some one had been arrested, it was -Vassili's brother. Vassili, he knew, was the big chasseur at the French -Legation. He heard his father soothing, promising he would look into -the matter; he would, if need be, see the Premier on the morrow. A -woman flung herself out of the café and clasped Julian by the knee. -They had taken her lover. Would he, Julian, who was young, be merciful? -Would he urge his father's interference? He promised also what was -required of him, feeling a strange thrill of emotion and excitement. -Ten days ago he had been at Oxford, and here, to-day, Kato had spoken -to him as to a grown man, and here in the dusk a sobbing woman was -clinging about his knee. This was a place in which anything, fantastic -or preposterous, might come to pass. - -As they rode on, side by side, his father spoke, thinking aloud. An -absent-minded man, he gave his confidence solely in this, so to speak, -unintentional manner. Long periods, extending sometimes over months, -during which his mind lay fallow, had as their upshot an outbreak of -this audible self-communion. Julian had inherited the trait; his mind -progressed, not regularly, but by alternate stagnation and a forward -bound. - -'The mistake that we have made lies in the importation of whole -families of islanders to the mainland. The Islands have always -considered themselves as a thing apart, as, indeed, historically, -they always were. A hundred years is not sufficient to make them -an intrinsic part of the State of Herakleion. I cannot wonder that -the authorities here dislike us. We have introduced a discontented -population from the Islands to spread sedition among the hitherto -contented population of the mainland. If we were wise, we should ship -the whole lot back to the Islands they came from. Now, a man is -arrested on the Islands by the authorities, and what happens? He is the -brother of Vassili, an islander living in Herakleion. Vassili spreads -the news, it flies up and down the town, and out into the country. It -has greeted us out here already. In every café of the town at this -moment the islanders are gathered together, muttering; some will get -drunk, perhaps, and the municipal police will intervene; from a drunken -row the affair will become political; some one will raise the cry of -"Liberty!", heads will be broken, and to-morrow a score of islanders -will be in jail. They will attribute their imprisonment to the general -hostility to their nationality, rather than to the insignificant brawl. -Vassili will come to me in Herakleion to-morrow. Will I exercise my -influence with Malteios to get his brother released? I shall go, -perhaps, to Malteios, who will listen to me suavely, evasively.... It -has all happened a hundred times before. I say, we ought to ship the -whole lot back to where they came from.' - -'I suppose they are really treated with unfairness?' Julian said, more -speculation than interest in his tone. - -'I suppose a great many people would think so. The authorities are -certainly severe, but they are constantly provoked. And, you know, your -uncle and I make it up to the islanders in a number of private ways. -Ninety per cent. of the men on the Islands are employed by us, and it -pays us to keep them devoted to us by more material bonds than mere -sentiment; also it alleviates their discontent, and so obviates much -friction with Herakleion.' - -'But of course,' said Julian quickly, 'you don't allow Malteios to -suspect this?' - -'My dear boy! what do you suppose? Malteios is President of Herakleion. -Of course, we don't mention such things. But he knows it all very well, -and winks at it--perforce. Our understanding with Malteios is entirely -satisfactory, entirely. He is on very wholesome terms of friendly -respect to us.' - -Julian rarely pronounced himself; he did so now. - -'If I were an islander--that is, one of a subject race--I don't think -I should be very well content to forgo my liberty in exchange for -underhand compensation from an employer whose tactics it suited to -conciliate my natural dissatisfaction.' - -'What a ridiculous phrase. And what ridiculous sentiments you -occasionally give vent to. No, no, the present arrangement is as -satisfactory as we can hope to make it, always excepting that one flaw, -that we ought not to allow islanders in large numbers to live upon the -mainland.' - -They turned in between the two white lodges of the country house, -and rode up the drive between the tall, pungent, untidy trees of -eucalyptus. The house, one-storied, low, and covered with wistaria and -bougainvillea, glimmered white in the uncertain light. The shutters -were flung back and the open windows gaped, oblong and black, at -regular intervals on the upper floor. On the ground level, a broad -veranda stretched right along the front of the house, and high French -windows, opening on to this, yellow with light, gave access to the -downstairs rooms. - -'Holà!' Mr Davenant called in a loud voice. - -'Malista, Kyrie,' a man's voice answered, and a servant in the white -fustanelle of the Islands, with black puttees wound round his legs, and -red shoes with turned-up toes and enormous rosettes on the tip, came -running to hold the horses. - -'They have taken Vassili's brother, Kyrie,' he said as Mr Davenant gave -him the reins. - -Julian was already in the drawing-room, among the chintz-covered sofas, -loaded little tables, and ubiquitous gilt chairs. Four fat columns, -painted to represent lapis-lazuli, divided the room into two halves, -and from their Corinthian capitals issued flames made of red tinsel -and painted gray smoke, which dispersed itself realistically over the -ceiling. - -He stood in the window, absently looking out into the garden across the -veranda, where the dinner table was laid for six. Pots of oleander and -agapanthus stood along the edge of the veranda, between the fat white -columns, with gaps between them through which one might pass out into -the garden, and beyond them in the garden proper the fruit gleamed on -the lemon-trees, and, somewhere, the sea whispered in the dusk. The -night was calm and hot with the serenity of established summer weather, -the stars big and steady like sequins in the summer sky. The spirit -of such serenity does not brood over England, where to-day's pretence -of summer will be broken by the fresh laughter of to-morrow's shower. -The rose must fall to pieces in the height of its beauty beneath the -fingers of sudden and capricious storm. But here the lemons hung, -swollen and heavily pendulous, among the metallic green of their -leaves, awaiting the accomplished end of their existence, the deepening -of their gold, the fuller curve of their ripened luxuriance, with the -complacency of certainty; fruit, not for the whim of the elements, -but progressing throughout the year steadfastly towards the hand and -the basket of the picker. Here and there the overburdened stem would -snap, and the oblong ball of greenish-gold would fall with a soft and -melancholy thud, like a sigh of regret, upon the ground beneath the -tree; would roll a little way, and then be still. The little grove -stretched in ordered lines and spaces, from the veranda, where the -windows of the house threw rectangles of yellow light on to the ground -in the blackness, to the bottom of the garden, where the sea washed -indolently against the rocks. - -Presently he would see Eve, his eyes would meet her mocking eyes, and -they would smile at one another out of the depths of their immemorial -friendship. She was familiar to him, so familiar that he could -not remember the time when, difficult, intractable, exasperating, -subtle, incomprehensible, she had not formed part of his life. She -was as familiar to him as the house in the _platia_, with its big, -empty drawing-room, the walls frescoed with swinging monkeys, broken -columns, and a romantic land and seascape; as the talk about the -vintage; as the preposterous politics, always changing, yet always, -monotonously, nauseatingly, pettishly, the same. She was not part of -his life in England, the prosaic life; she was part of his life on -the Greek seaboard, unreal and fantastic, where the most improbable -happenings came along with an air of ingenuousness, romance walking -in the garments of every day. After a week in Herakleion he could not -disentangle the real from the unreal. - -It was the more baffling because those around him, older and wiser -than he, appeared to take the situation for granted and to treat it -with a seriousness that sometimes led him, when, forgetful, he was off -his guard, to believe that the country was a real country and that -its statesmen, Platon Malteios, Gregori Stavridis, and the rest, were -real statesmen working soberly towards a definite end. That its riots -were revolutions; that its factions were political parties; that its -discordant, abusive, wrangling Chamber was indeed a Senate. That its -four hundred stout soldiers, who periodically paraded the _platia_ -under the command of a general in a uniform designed by a theatrical -costumier in Buda-Pesth, were indeed an army. That the _platia_ itself -was a forum. That the society was brilliant; that its liaisons had the -dignity of great passions. That his aunt, who talked weightily and -contradicted every one, including herself--the only person who ever -ventured to do such a thing--was indeed a political figure, an Egeria -among the men in whose hands lay the direction of affairs. In his more -forgetful moments, he was tempted to believe these things, when he saw -his father and his Uncle Robert, both unbending, incisive, hard-headed -business men, believing them. As a rule, preserving his nice sense of -perspective, he saw them as a setting to Eve. - -He was beginning to adjust himself again to the life which faded with -so extraordinary a rapidity as the express or the steamer bore him -away, three times a year, to England. It faded always then like a -photographic proof when exposed to the light. The political jargon -was the first to go--he knew the sequence--'civil war,' 'independent -archipelago,' 'overthrow of the Cabinet,' 'a threat to the Malteios -party,' 'intrigues of the Stavridists,' the well-known phrases that, -through sheer force of reiteration, he accepted without analysis; then, -after the political jargon, the familiar figures that he saw almost -daily, Sharp, his father's chief clerk; Aristotle, the door-keeper, -his tussore fustanelle hanging magisterially from the rotundity of -his portentous figure; Madame Lafarge, erect, and upholstered like a -sofa, driving in her barouche; the young men at the club, languid and -insolent and licentious; then, after the familiar figures, the familiar -scenes; and lastly Eve herself, till he could no longer recall the -drowsy tones of her voice, or evoke her eyes, that, though alive with -malice and mockery, were yet charged with a mystery to which he could -give no name. He was sad when these things began to fade. He clung on -to them, because they were dear, but they slipped through his fingers -like running water. Their evanescence served only to convince him the -more of their unreality. - -Then, England, immutable, sagacious, balanced; Oxford, venerable and -self-confident, turning the young men of the nation as by machinery out -of her mould. Law-abiding England, where men worked their way upwards, -attaining power and honour in the ripeness of years. London, where the -houses were of stone. Where was Herakleion, stucco-built and tawdry, -city of perpetually-clanging bells, revolutions, and Prime Ministers -made and unmade in a day? Herakleion of the yellow islands, washed by -too blue a sea. Where? - -Eve had never been to England, nor could he see any place in England -for her. She should continue to live as she had always lived, among -the vines and the magnolias, attended by a fat old woman who, though -English, had spent so many years of her life in Herakleion that her -English speech was oddly tainted by the southern lisp of the native -Greek she had never been able to master; old Nana, who had lost the -familiarity of one tongue without acquiring that of another; the ideal -duenna for Eve. - -Then with a light step across the veranda a young Greek priest came -into the room by one of the French windows, blinking and smiling in -the light, dressed in a long black soutane and black cap, his red hair -rolled up into a knob at the back of his head according to the fashion -of his church. He tripped sometimes over his soutane as he walked, -muscular and masculine inside that feminine garment, and when he did -this he would gather it up impatiently with a hand on which grew a -pelt of wiry red hairs. Father Paul had instituted himself as a kind -of private chaplain to the Davenants. Eve encouraged him because she -thought him picturesque. Mrs Robert Davenant found him invaluable as a -lieutenant in her campaign of control over the peasants and villagers, -over whom she exercised a despotic if benevolent authority. He was -therefore free to come and go as he pleased. - -The population, Julian thought, was flowing back into his recovered -world. - -England and Oxford were put aside; not forgotten, not indistinct, not -faded like Herakleion was wont to fade, but merely put aside, laid away -like winter garments in summer weather. He was once more in the kingdom -of stucco and adventure. Eve was coming back to him, with her strange -shadowy eyes and red mouth, and her frivolity beneath which lay some -force which was not frivolous. There were women who were primarily -pretty; women who were primarily motherly; women who, like Mrs Robert -Davenant, were primarily efficient, commanding, successful, metallic; -women who, like Kato, were consumed by a flame of purpose which broke, -hot and scorching, from their speech and burned relentlessly in their -eyes; women who were primarily vain and trifling; he found he could -crowd Eve into no such category. He recalled her, spoilt, exquisite, -witty, mettlesome, elusive, tantalising; detached from such practical -considerations as punctuality, convenience, reliability. A creature -that, from the age of three, had exacted homage and protection.... - -He heard her indolent voice behind him in the room, and turned -expectantly for their meeting. - - - - -III - - -It was, however, during his first visit to the singer's flat that -he felt himself again completely a citizen of Herakleion; that -he felt himself, in fact, closer than ever before to the beating -heart of intrigue and aspiration. Kato received him alone, and her -immediate comradely grasp of his hand dispelled the shyness which had -been induced in him by the concert; her vigorous simplicity caused -him to forget the applause and enthusiasm he had that afternoon -seen lavished on her as a public figure; he found in her an almost -masculine friendliness and keenness of intellect, which loosened his -tongue, sharpened his wits, set him on the path of discovery and -self-expression. Kato watched him with her little bright eyes, nodding -her approval with quick grunts; he paced her room, talking. - -'Does one come, ever, to a clear conception of one's ultimate -ambitions? Not one's personal ambitions, of course; they don't count.' -('How young he is,' she thought.) 'But to conceive clearly, I mean, -exactly what one sets out to create, and what to destroy. If not, -one must surely spend the whole of life working in the dark? Laying -in little bits of mosaic, without once stepping back to examine the -whole scheme of the picture.... One instinctively opposes authority. -One struggles for freedom. Why? Why? What's at the bottom of that -instinct? Why are we, men, born the instinctive enemies of order and -civilisation, when order and civilisation are the weapons and the -shields we, men, have ourselves instituted for our own protection? It's -illogical. - -'Why do we, every one of us, refute the experience of others, -preferring to gain our own? Why do we fight against government? why -do I want to be independent of my father? or the Islands independent -of Herakleion? or Herakleion independent of Greece? What's this -instinct of wanting to stand alone, to be oneself, isolated, free, -individual? Why does instinct push us towards individualism, when -the great wellbeing of mankind probably lies in solidarity? when the -social system in its most elementary form starts with men clubbing -together for comfort and greater safety? No sooner have we achieved our -solidarity, our hierarchy, our social system, our civilisation, than -we want to get away from it. A vicious circle; the wheel revolves, and -brings us back to the same point from which we started.' - -'Yes,' said Kato, 'there is certainly an obscure sympathy with -the rebel, that lies somewhere dormant in the soul of the most -platitudinous advocate of law and order.' She was amused by his -generalisations, and was clever enough not to force him back too -abruptly to the matter she had in mind. She thought him ludicrously, -though rather touchingly, young, both in his ideas and his phraseology; -but at the same time she shrewdly discerned the force which was in him -and which she meant to use for her own ends. 'You,' she said to him, -'will argue in favour of society, yet you will spend your life, or at -any rate your youth, in revolt against it. Youth dies, you see, when -one ceases to rebel. Besides,' she added, scrutinising him, 'the time -will very soon come when you cease to argue and begin to act. Believe -me, one soon discards one's wider examinations, and learns to content -oneself with the practical business of the moment. One's own bit of the -mosaic, as you said.' - -He felt wholesomely sobered, but not reproved; he liked Kato's -penetration, her vivid, intelligent sympathy, and her point of view -which was practical without being cynical. - -'I have come to one real conclusion,' he said, 'which is, that pain -alone is intrinsically evil, and that in the lightening or abolition -of pain one is safe in going straight ahead; it is a bit of the mosaic -worth doing. So in the Islands....' he paused. - -Kato repressed a smile; she was more and more touched and entertained -by his youthful, dogmatic statements, which were delivered with a -concentration and an ardour that utterly disarmed derision. She was -flattered, too, by his unthinking confidence in her; for she knew him -by report as morose and uncommunicative, with relapses into rough -high spirits and a schoolboy sense of farce. Eve had described him as -inaccessible.... - -'When you go, as you say, straight ahead,' he resumed, frowning, his -eyes absent. - -Kato began to dwell, very skilfully, upon the topic of the Islands.... - - -Certain events which Madame Kato had then predicted to Julian followed -with a suddenness, an unexpectedness, that perplexed the mind of the -inquirer seeking, not only their origin, but their chronological -sequence. They came like a summer storm sweeping briefly, boisterously -across the land after the inadequate warning of distant rumbles and the -flash of innocuous summer lightning. The thunder had rumbled so often, -it might be said that it had rumbled daily, and the lightning had -twitched so often in the sky, that men remained surprised and resentful -long after the rough little tornado had passed away. They remained -staring at one another, scratching their heads under their straw hats, -or leaning against the parapet on the quays, exploring the recesses -of their teeth with the omnipresent toothpick, and staring across the -sea to those Islands whence the storm had surely come, as though -by this intense, frowning contemplation they would finally provide -themselves with enlightenment. Groups of men sat outside the cafés, -their elbows on the tables, advancing in tones of whispered vehemence -their individual positive theories and opinions, beating time to their -own rhetoric and driving home each cherished point with the emphatic -stab of a long cigar. In the casino itself, with the broken windows -gaping jaggedly on to the forecourt, and the red curtains of the atrium -hanging in rags from those same windows, men stood pointing in little -knots. 'Here they stood still,' and 'From here he threw the bomb,' and -those who had been present on the day were listened to with a respect -they never in their lives had commanded before and never would command -again. - -There was no sector of society in Herakleion that did not discuss the -matter with avidity; more, with gratitude. Brigandage was brigandage, -a picturesque but rather _opéra bouffe_ form of crime, but at the same -time an excitement was, indubitably, an excitement. The Ministers, -in their despatches to their home governments, affected to treat the -incident as the work of a fortuitous band rather than as an organised -expedition with an underlying political significance, nevertheless they -fastened upon it as a pretext for their wit in Herakleion, where no -sardonic and departmental eye would regard them with superior tolerance -much as a grown-up person regards the facile amusement of a child. -At the diplomatic dinner parties very little else was talked of. At -tea parties, women, drifting from house to house, passed on as their -own the witticisms they had most recently heard, which became common -property until reclaimed from general circulation by the indignant -perpetrators. From the drawing-rooms of the French Legation, down to -village cafés where the gramophone grated unheard and the bowls lay -neglected on the bowling alley, one topic reigned supreme. What nobody -knew, and what everybody wondered about, was the attitude adopted by -the Davenants in the privacy of their country house. What spoken or -unspoken understanding existed between the inscrutable brothers? What -veiled references, or candid judgments, escaped from William Davenant's -lips as he lay back in his chair after dinner, a glass of wine--wine of -his own growing--between his fingers? What indiscretions, that would -have fallen so delectably upon the inquisitive ears of Herakleion, -did he utter, secure in the confederacy of his efficient and vigorous -sister-in-law, of the more negligible Robert, the untidy and taciturn -Julian, the indifferent Eve? - -It was as universally taken for granted that the outrage proceeded -from the islanders as it was ferociously regretted that the offenders -could not, from lack of evidence, be brought to justice. They had, at -the moment, no special grievance; only their perennial grievances, of -which everybody was tired of hearing. The brother of Vassili, a quite -unimportant labourer, had been released; M. Lafarge had interested -himself in his servant's brother, and had made representations to the -Premier, which Malteios had met with his usual urbane courtesy. An hour -later the fellow had been seen setting out in a rowing boat for Aphros. -All, therefore, was for the best. Yet within twenty-four hours of this -proof of leniency.... - -The élite were dining on the evening of these unexpected occurrences at -the French Legation to meet two guests of honour, one a distinguished -Albanian statesman who could speak no language but his own, and the -other an Englishman of irregular appearances and disappearances, -an enthusiast on all matters connected with the Near East. In the -countries he visited he was considered an expert who had the ear of -the English Cabinet and House of Commons, but by these institutions -he was considered merely a crank and a nuisance. His conversation was -after the style of the more economical type of telegram, with all -prepositions, most pronouns, and a good many verbs left out; it gained -thereby in mystery what it lost in intelligibility, and added greatly -to his reputation. He and the Albanian had stood apart in confabulation -before dinner, the Englishman arguing, expounding, striking his open -palm with the fingers of the other hand, shooting out his limbs in -spasmodic and ungraceful gestures, the Albanian unable to put in a -word, but appreciatively nodding his head and red fez. - -Madame Lafarge sat between them both at dinner, listening to the -Englishman as though she understood what he was saying to her, which -she did not, and occasionally turning to the Albanian to whom she -smiled and nodded in a friendly and regretful way. Whenever she did -this he made her a profound bow and drank her health in the sweet -champagne. Here their intercourse perforce ended. - -Half-way through dinner a note was handed to M. Lafarge. He gave -an exclamation which silenced all his end of the table, and the -Englishman's voice was alone left talking in the sudden hush. - -'Turkey!' he was saying. 'Another matter! Ah, ghost of -Abdul Hamid!' and then, shaking his head mournfully, -'world-treachery--world-conspiracy....' - -'Ah, yes,' said Madame Lafarge, rapt, 'how true that is, how right you -are.' - -She realised that no one else was speaking, and raised her head -interrogatively. - -Lafarge said,-- - -'Something has occurred at the casino, but there is no cause for -alarm; nobody has been hurt. I am sending a messenger for further -details. This note explicitly says'--he consulted it again--'that -no one is injured. A mere question of robbery; an impudent and -successful attempt. A bomb has been thrown,'--('_Mais ils sont donc -tous apaches?_' cried Condesa Valdez. Lafarge went on)--'but they say -the damage is all in the atrium, and is confined to broken windows, -torn hangings, and mirrors cracked from top to bottom. Glass lies -plentifully scattered about the floor. But I hope that before very long -we may be in possession of a little more news.' He sent the smile of a -host round the table, reassuring in the face of anxiety. - -A little pause, punctuated by a few broken ejaculations, followed upon -his announcement. - -'How characteristic of Herakleion,' cried Alexander Christopoulos, who -had been anxiously searching for something noteworthy and contemptuous -to say, 'that even with the help of a bomb we can achieve only a -disaster that tinkles.' - -The Danish Excellency was heard to say tearfully,-- - -'A robbery! a bomb! and practically in broad daylight! What a place, -what a place!' - -'Those Islands again, for certain!' Madame Delahaye exclaimed, with -entire absence of tact; her husband, the French Military Attaché, -frowned at her across the table; and the diplomatists all looked down -their noses. - -Then the Englishman, seeing his opportunity, broke out,-- - -'Very significant! all of a piece--anarchy--intrigue--no strong -hand--free peoples. Too many, too many. Small nationalities. Chips! -Cut-throats, all. So!'--he drew his fingers with an expressive sibilant -sound across his own throat. 'Asking for trouble. Yugo-Slavs--bah! -Poles--pfui! Eastern empire, that's the thing. Turks the only -people'--the Albanian, fortunately innocent of English, was smiling -amiably as he stirred his champagne--'great people. Armenians, -wash-out. Quite right too. Herakleion, worst of all. Not even a chip. -Only the chip of a chip.' - -'And the Islands,' said the Danish Excellency brightly, 'want to be the -chip of a chip of a chip.' - -'Yes, yes,' said Madame Lafarge, who had been getting a little anxious, -trying to provoke a laugh, 'Fru Thyregod has hit it as usual--_elle -a trouvé le mot juste_,' she added, thinking that if she turned the -conversation back into French it might check the Englishman's truncated -eloquence. - -Out in the town, the quay was the centre of interest. A large crowd had -collected there, noisy in the immense peace of the evening. Far, far -out, a speck on the opal sea, could still be distinguished the little -boat in which the three men, perpetrators of the outrage, had made good -their escape. Beyond the little boat, even less distinct, the sea was -dotted with tiny craft, the fleet of fishing-boats from the Islands. -The green light gleamed at the end of the pier. On the quay, the crowd -gesticulated, shouted, and pointed, as the water splashed under the -ineffectual bullets from the carbines of the police. The Chief of -Police was there, giving orders. The police motor-launch was to be -got out immediately. The crowd set up a cheer; they did not know who -the offenders were, but they would presently have the satisfaction of -seeing them brought back in handcuffs. - -It was at this point that the entire Lafarge dinner-party debouched -upon the quay, the women wrapped in their light cloaks, tremulous and -excited, the men affecting an amused superiority. They were joined by -the Chief of Police, and by the Christopoulos, father and son. It was -generally known, though never openly referred to, that the principal -interest in the casino was held by them, a fact which explained the -saffron-faced little banker's present agitation. - -'The authorities must make better dispositions,' he kept saying to -Madame Lafarge. 'With this example before them, half the blackguards of -the country-side will be making similar attempts. It is too absurdly -easy.' - -He glared at the Chief of Police. - -'Better dispositions,' he muttered, 'better dispositions.' - -'This shooting is ridiculous,' Alexander said impatiently, 'the boat is -at least three miles away. What do they hope to kill? a fish? Confound -the dusk. How soon will the launch be ready?' - -'It will be round to the steps at any moment now,' said the Chief of -Police, and he gave an order in an irritable voice to his men, who had -continued to let off their carbines aimlessly and spasmodically. - -In spite of his assurance, the launch did not appear. The Englishman -was heard discoursing at length to Madame Lafarge, who, at regular -intervals, fervently agreed with what he had been saying, and the -Danish Excellency whispered and tittered with young Christopoulos. -Social distinctions were sharply marked: the diplomatic party stood -away from the casual crowd, and the casual crowd stood away from the -rabble. Over all the dusk deepened, one or two stars came out, and the -little boat was no longer distinguishable from the fishing fleet with -its triangular sails. - -Finally, throbbing, fussing, important, the motor-launch came churning -to a standstill at the foot of the steps. The Chief of Police jumped -in, Alexander followed him, promising that he would come straight -to the French Legation on his return and tell them exactly what had -happened. - -In the mirrored drawing-rooms, three hours later, he made his recital. -The gilt chairs were drawn round in a circle, in the middle of which -he stood, aware that the Danish Excellency was looking at him, -enraptured, with her prominent blue eyes. - -'Of course, in spite of the start they had had, we knew that they stood -no chance against a motor-boat, no chance whatsoever. They could not -hope to reach Aphros before we overtook them. We felt quite confident -that it was only a question of minutes. We agreed that the men must -have been mad to imagine that they could make good their escape in -that way. Sterghiou and I sat in the stern, smoking and talking. What -distressed us a little was that we could no longer see the boat we were -after, but you know how quickly the darkness comes, so we paid very -little attention to that. - -'Presently we came up with the fishing smacks from Aphros, and they -shouted to us to keep clear of their tackle--impudence. We shut off -our engines while we made inquiries from them as to the rowing-boat. -Rowing-boat? they looked blank. They had seen no rowing-boat--no boat -of any sort, other than their own. The word was passed, shouting, from -boat to boat of the fleet; no one had seen a rowing-boat. Of course -they were lying; how could they not be lying? but the extraordinary -fact remained'--he made an effective pause--'there was no sign of a -rowing-boat anywhere on the sea.' - -A movement of appreciative incredulity produced itself among his -audience. - -'Not a sign!' Alexander repeated luxuriously. 'The sea lay all round us -without a ripple, and the fishing smacks, although they were under full -sail, barely moved. It was so still that we could see their reflection -unbroken in the water. There might have been twenty of them, dotted -about--twenty crews of bland liars. We were, I may as well admit it, -nonplussed. What can you do when you are surrounded by smiling and -petticoated liars, leaning against their masts, and persisting in -idiotic blankness to all your questions? Denial, denial, was all their -stronghold. They had seen nothing. But they must be blind to have seen -nothing? They were very sorry, they had seen nothing at all. Would the -gentlemen look round for themselves, they would soon be satisfied that -nothing was in sight. - -'As for the idea that the boat had reached Aphros in the time at their -disposal, it was absolutely out of the question. - -'I could see that Sterghiou was getting very angry; I said nothing, but -I think he was uncomfortable beneath my silent criticism. He and his -police could regulate the traffic in the rue Royale, but they could -not cope with an emergency of this sort. From the very first moment -they had been at fault. And they had taken at least twenty minutes to -get out the motor-launch. Sterghiou hated me, I feel sure, for having -accompanied him and seen his discomfiture. - -'Anyway, he felt he must take some sort of action, so he ordered his -men to search all the fishing smacks in turn. We went the round, a -short throbbing of the motors, and then silence as we drew alongside -and the men went on board. Of course, they found nothing. I watched the -faces of the islanders during this inspection; they sat on the sides -of their boats, busy with their nets, and pretending not to notice the -police that moved about, turning everything over in their inefficient -way, but I guessed their covert grins, and I swear I caught two of them -winking at one another. If I had told this to Sterghiou, I believe he -would have arrested them on the spot, he was by then in such a state of -exasperation, but you can't arrest a man on a wink, especially a wink -when darkness has very nearly come. - -'And there the matter remains. We had found nothing, and we were -obliged to turn round and come back again, leaving that infernally -impudent fleet of smacks in possession of the battle-ground. Oh, yes, -there is no doubt that they got the best of it. Because, naturally, we -have them to thank.' - -'Have you a theory, Alexander?' some one asked, as they were intended -to ask. - -Alexander shrugged. - -'It is so obvious. A knife through the bottom of the boat would very -quickly send her to the bottom, and a shirt and a fustanelle will very -quickly transform a respectable bank-thief into an ordinary islander. -Who knows that the two ruffians I saw winking were not the very men we -were after? A sufficiently ingenious scheme altogether--too ingenious -for poor Sterghiou.' - - - - -IV - - -These things came, made their stir, passed, and were forgotten, leaving -only a quickened ripple upon the waters of Herakleion, of which Julian -Davenant, undergraduate, aged nineteen, bordering upon twenty, was -shortly made aware. He had arrived from England with no other thought -in his mind than of his riding, hawking, and sailing, but found himself -almost immediately netted in a tangle of affairs of which, hitherto, he -had known only by the dim though persistent echoes which reached him -through the veils of his deliberate indifference. He found now that his -indifference was to be disregarded. Men clustered round him, shouting, -and tearing with irascible hands at his unsubstantial covering. He was -no longer permitted to remain a boy. The half-light of adolescence was -peopled for him by a procession of figures, fortunately distinct by -virtue of their life-long familiarity, figures that urged and upbraided -him, some indignant, some plaintive, some reproachful, some vehement, -some dissimulating and sly; many vociferous, all insistent; a crowd of -human beings each playing his separate hand, each the expounder of his -own theory, rooted in his own conviction; a succession of intrigues, -men who took him by the arm, and, leading him aside, discoursed to him, -a strange medley of names interlarding their discourse with concomitant -abuse or praise; men who flattered him; men who sought merely his -neutrality, speaking of his years in tones of gentle disparagement. Men -who, above all, would not leave him alone. Who, by their persecution, -even those who urged his youth as an argument in favour of his -neutrality, demonstrated to him that he had, as a man, entered the -arena. - -For his part, badgered and astonished, he took refuge in a taciturnity -which only tantalised his pursuers into a more zealous aggression. His -opinions were unknown in the club where the men set upon him from the -first moment of his appearance. He would sit with his legs thrown over -the arm of a leather arm-chair, loose-limbed and gray-flannelled, his -mournful eyes staring out of the nearest window, while Greek, diplomat, -or foreigner argued at him with gesture and emphasis. They seemed to -him, had they but known, surprisingly unreal for all their clamour, -pompous and yet insignificant. - -His father was aware of the attacks delivered on his son, but, saying -nothing, allowed the natural and varied system of education to take -its course. He saw him standing, grave and immovable, in the surging -crowd of philosophies and nationalities, discarding the charlatan -by some premature wisdom, and assimilating the rare crumbs of true -worldly experience. He himself was ignorant of the thoughts passing -in the boy's head. He had forgotten the visionary tumult of nineteen, -when the storm of life flows first over the pleasant, easy meadows of -youth. Himself now a sober man, he had forgotten, so completely that -he had ceased to believe in, the facile succession of convictions, -the uprooting of beliefs, the fanatical acceptance of newly proffered -creeds. He scarcely considered, or he might perhaps not so readily have -risked, the possible effect of the queer systems of diverse ideals -picked up, unconsciously, and put together from the conversation of -the mountebank administrators of that tiny state, the melodramatic -champions of the oppressed poor, and the professional cynicism of -dago adventurers. If, sometimes, he wondered what Julian made of the -talk that had become a jargon, he dismissed his uneasiness with a -re-affirmation of confidence in his impenetrability. - -'Broaden his mind,' he would say. 'It won't hurt him. It doesn't go -deep. Foam breaking upon a rock.' - -So might Sir Henry have spoken, to whom the swags of fruit were but the -vintage of a particular year, put into a labelled bottle. - -Julian had gone more than once out of a boyish curiosity to hear the -wrangle of the parties in the Chamber. Sitting up in the gallery, and -leaning his arms horizontally on the top of the brass railing, he had -looked down on the long tables covered with red baize, whereon reposed, -startlingly white, a square sheet of paper before the seat of each -deputy, and a pencil, carefully sharpened, alongside. He had seen the -deputies assemble, correctly frock-coated, punctiliously shaking hands -with one another, although they had probably spent the morning in one -another's company at the club--the club was the natural meeting-place -of the Greeks and the diplomats, while the foreigners, a doubtful lot, -congregated either in the gambling-rooms or in the _jardin anglais_ of -the casino. He had watched them taking their places with a good deal of -coughing, throat-clearing, and a certain amount of expectoration. He -had seen the Premier come in amid a general hushing of voices, and take -his seat in the magisterial arm-chair in the centre of the room, behind -an enormous ink-pot, pulling up the knees of his trousers and smoothing -his beard away from his rosy lips with the tips of his fingers as he -did so. Julian's attention had strayed from the formalities attendant -upon the opening of the session, and his eyes had wandered to the -pictures hanging on the walls: Aristidi Patros, the first Premier, -after the secession from Greece, b. 1760, d. 1831, Premier of the -Republic of Herakleion from 1826 to 1830; Pericli Anghelis, general, -1774-1847; Constantine Stavridis, Premier from 1830 to 1835, and -again from 1841 to 1846, when he died assassinated. The portraits of -the other Premiers hung immediately below the gallery where Julian -could not see them. At the end of the room, above the doors, hung a -long and ambitious painting executed in 1840 and impregnated with the -romanticism of that age, representing the Declaration of Independence -in the _platia_ of Herakleion on the 16th September--kept as an ever -memorable and turbulent anniversary--1826. The Premier, Patros, -occupied the foreground, declaiming from a scroll of parchment, and -portrayed as a frock-coated young man of godlike beauty; behind him -stood serried ranks of deputies, and in the left-hand corner a group of -peasants, like an operatic chorus, tossed flowers from baskets on to -the ground at his feet. The heads of women clustered at the windows of -the familiar houses of the _platia_, beneath the fluttering flags with -the colours of the new Republic, orange and green. - -Julian always thought that a portrait of his grandfather, for twelve -months President of the collective archipelago of Hagios Zacharie, -should have been included among the notables. - -He had tried to listen to the debates which followed upon the formal -preliminaries; to the wrangle of opponents; to the clap-trap patriotism -which so thinly veiled the desire of personal advancement; to the -rodomontade of Panaïoannou, Commander-in-Chief of the army of four -hundred men, whose sky-blue uniform and white breeches shone among -all the black coats with a resplendency that gratified his histrionic -vanity; to the bombastic eloquence which rolled out from the luxuriance -of the Premier's beard, with a startling and deceptive dignity in -the trappings of the ancient and classic tongue. Malteios used such -long, such high-sounding words, and struck his fist upon the red baize -table with such emphatic energy, that it was hard not to believe -in the authenticity of his persuasion. Julian welcomed most the -moments when, after a debate of an hour or more, tempers grew heated, -and dignity--that is to say, the pretence of the sobriety of the -gathering--was cast aside in childish petulance. - -'The fur flew,' said Julian, who had enjoyed himself. 'Christopoulos -called Panaïoannou a fire-eater, and Panaïoannou called Christopoulos a -money-grubber. "Where would you be without my money?" "Where would you -be without my army?" "Army! can the valiant general inform the Chamber -how many of his troops collapsed from exhaustion on the _platia_ last -Independence Day, and had to be removed to the hospital?" And so on -and so forth. They became so personal that I expected the general at -any moment to ask Christopoulos how many unmarried daughters he had at -home.' - -Malteios himself, president of the little republic, most plausible -and empiric of politicians, was not above the discussion of current -affairs with the heir of the Davenants towards whom, it was suspected, -the thoughts of the islanders were already turning. The President was -among those who adopted the attitude of total discouragement. The -interference of a headstrong and no doubt Quixotic schoolboy would be -troublesome; might become disastrous. Having dined informally with the -Davenant brothers at their country house, he crossed the drawing-room -after dinner, genial, a long cigar protruding from his mouth, to the -piano in the corner where Eve and Julian were turning over some sheets -of music. - -'May an old man,' he said with his deliberate but nevertheless charming -suavity, 'intrude for a moment upon the young?' - -He sat down, removing his cigar, and discoursed for a little upon the -advantages of youth. He led the talk to Julian's Oxford career, and -from there to his future in Herakleion. - -'A knotty little problem, as you will some day find--not, I hope, for -your own sake, until a very remote some day. Perhaps not until I and -my friend and opponent Gregori Stavridis are figures of the past,' -he said, puffing smoke and smiling at Julian; 'then perhaps you will -take your place in Herakleion and bring your influence to bear upon -your very difficult and contrary Islands. Oh, very difficult, I assure -you,' he continued, shaking his head. 'I am a conciliatory man myself, -and not unkindly, I think I may say; they would find Gregori Stavridis -a harder taskmaster than I. They are the oldest cause of dispute, -your Islands, between Gregori Stavridis and myself. Now see,' he -went on, expanding, 'they lie like a belt of neutral territory, your -discontented, your so terribly and unreasonably discontented Islands, -between me and Stavridis. We may agree upon other points; upon that -point we continually differ. He urges upon the Senate a policy of -severity with which I cannot concur. I wish to compromise, to keep the -peace, but he is, alas! perpetually aggressive. He invades the neutral -zone, as it were, from the west--periodical forays--and I am obliged to -invade it from the east; up till now we have avoided clashing in the -centre.' Malteios, still smiling, sketched the imaginary lines of his -illustration on his knee with the unlighted tip of his cigar. 'I would -coax, and he would force, the islanders to content and friendliness.' - -Julian listened, knowing well that Malteios and Stavridis, opponents -from an incorrigible love of opposition for opposition's sake, rather -than from any genuine diversity of conviction, had long since seized -upon the Islands as a convenient pretext. Neither leader had any very -definite conception of policy beyond the desire, respectively, to -remain in, or to get himself into, power. Between them the unfortunate -Islands, pulled like a rat between two terriers, were given ample cause -for the discontent of which Malteios complained. Malteios, it was -true, adopted the more clement attitude, but for this clemency, it was -commonly said, the influence of Anastasia Kato was alone responsible. - -Through the loud insistent voices of the men, Julian was to remember -in after years the low music of that woman's voice, and to see, as in -a vignette, the picture of himself in Kato's flat among the cushions -of her divan, looking again in memory at the photographs and ornaments -on the shelf that ran all round the four walls of the room, at the -height of the top of a dado. These ornaments appeared to him the -apotheosis of cosmopolitanism. There were small, square wooden figures -from Russia, a few inches high, and brightly coloured; white and gray -Danish china; little silver images from Spain; miniature plants of -quartz and jade; Battersea snuff-boxes; photographs of an Austrian -archduke in a white uniform and a leopard-skin, of a Mexican in a wide -sombrero, mounted on a horse and holding a lasso, of Mounet-Sully as -the blinded OEdipus. Every available inch of space in the singer's -room was crowded with these and similar trophies, and the shelf had -been added to take the overflow. Oriental embroideries, heavily -silvered, were tacked up on the walls, and on them again were plates -and brackets, the latter carrying more ornaments; high up in one corner -was an ikon, and over the doors hung open-work linen curtains from -the bazaars of Constantinople. Among the many ornaments the massive -singer moved freely and spaciously, creating havoc as she moved, so -that Julian's dominating impression remained one of setting erect -again the diminutive objects she had knocked over. She would laugh -good-humouredly at herself, and would give him unequalled Turkish -coffee in little handleless cups, like egg-cups, off a tray of beaten -brass set on a small octagonal table inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and -all the while she would talk to him musically, earnestly, bending -forward, and her restless fingers would turn the bangles round and -round upon her arms. - -He could not think Kato unreal, though many of the phrases upon her -lips were the same as he heard from the men in the club; he could not -think her unreal, when her voice broke over the words 'misery' and -'oppression,' and when her eyes burned their conviction into his. He -began to believe in the call of the Islands, as he listened to the -soft, slurring speech of their people in her voice, and discovered, -listening to her words with only half his mind, the richness of the -grapes in the loose coils of her dark hair, and the fulvous colouring -of the Islands in the copper draperies she always affected. It seemed -to Julian that, at whatever time of day he saw her, whether morning, -afternoon, or evening, she was always wearing the same dress, but he -supposed vaguely that this could not actually be so. Like his father, -he maintained her as a woman of genuine patriotic ardour, dissociating -her from Herakleion and its club and casino, and associating her with -the Islands where injustice and suffering, at least, were true things. -He lavished his enthusiasm upon her, and his relations learned to -refrain, in his presence, from making the usual obvious comments on her -appearance. He looked upon her flat as a sanctuary and a shrine. He -fled one day in disgust and disillusionment when the Premier appeared -with his ingratiating smile in the doorway. Julian had known, of -course, of the liaison, but was none the less distressed and nauseated -when it materialised beneath his eyes. - -He fled to nurse his soul-sickness in the country, lying on his back at -full length under the olive-trees on the lower slopes of Mount Mylassa, -his hands beneath his head, his horse moving near by and snuffing -for pasture on the bare terraces. The sea, to-day of the profoundest -indigo, sparkled in the sun below, and between the sea and the foot of -the mountain, plainly, as in an embossed map, stretched the strip of -flat cultivated land where he could distinguish first the dark ilex -avenue, then the ribbon of road, then the village, finally the walled -plantation which was his uncle's garden, and the roofs of the low house -in the centre. The bougainvillea climbing over the walls and roof of -his uncle's house made a warm stain of magenta. - -Herakleion was hidden from sight, on the other hand, by the curve of -the hill, but the Islands were visible opposite, and, caring only for -them, he gazed as he had done many times, but now their meaning and -purport crystallised in his mind as never before. There was something -symbolical in their detachment from the mainland--in their clean -remoteness, their isolation; all the difference between the unfettered -ideal and the tethered reality. An island land that had slipped the -leash of continents, forsworn solidarity, cut adrift from security and -prudence! One could readily believe that they made part of the divine, -the universal discontent, that rare element, dynamic, life-giving, that -here and there was to be met about the world, always fragmentary, yet -always full and illuminating, even as the fragments of beauty. - -This was a day which Julian remembered, marked, as it were, with an -asterisk in the calendar of his mind, by two notes which he found -awaiting him on his return to the house in the _platia_. Aristotle -handed them to him as he dismounted at the door. - -The first he opened was from Eve. - - - 'I am so angry with you, Julian. What have you done to my Kato? I - found her in tears. She says you were with her when the Premier - came, and that you vanished without a word. - - 'I know your _sauts de gazelle_; you are suddenly bored or annoyed, - and you run away. Very naïf, very charming, very candid, very - fawn-like--or is it, hideous suspicion, a pose?' - - -He was surprised and hurt by her taunt. One did not wish to remain, so -one went away; it seemed to him very simple. - -The second note was from Kato. - - - 'Julian, forgive me,' it ran; 'I did not know he was coming. - Forgive me. Send me a message to say when I shall see you. I did - not know he was coming. Forgive me.' - - -He read these notes standing in the drawing-room with the -palely-frescoed walls. He looked up from reading them, and encountered -the grinning faces of the painted monkeys and the perspective of the -romantic landscape. The colours were faint, and the rough grain of the -plaster showed through in tiny lumps. Why should Kato apologise to -him for the unexpected arrival of her lover? It was not his business. -He sat down and wrote her a perfectly polite reply to say that he had -nothing to forgive and had no intention of criticising her actions. The -sense of unreality was strong within him. - - -It seemed that he could not escape the general determination to -involve him, on one side or the other, in the local affairs. Besides -the men at the club, Sharp, the head clerk at the office, spoke to -him--'The people look to you, Mr Julian; better keep clear of the -Islands if you don't want a crowd of women hanging round kissing your -hands--, murmured to him in the hall when he -went to dine at the French Legation; Walters, the _Times_ correspondent -in Herakleion, winked to him with a man to man expression that -flattered the boy. - -'I know the Balkans inside out, mind you; nearly lost my head to the -Bulgars and my property to the Serbs; I've been held to ransom by -Albanian brigands, and shot at in the streets of Athens on December -the second; I've had my rooms ransacked by the police, and I could -have been a rich man now if I'd accepted half the bribes that I've had -offered me. So you can have my advice, if you care to hear it, and that -is, hold your tongue till you're sure you know your own mind.' - -The women, following the lead, chattered to him. He had never known -such popularity. It was hard, at times, to preserve his non-committal -silence, yet he knew, ignorant and irresolute, that therein lay his -only hope of safety. They must not perceive that they had taken -him unawares, that he was hopelessly at sea in the mass of names, -reminiscences, and prophecies that they showered upon him. They must -not suspect that he really knew next to nothing about the situation.... - -He felt his way cautiously and learnt, and felt his strength growing. - -In despite of Sharp's warning, he went across to the Islands, taking -with him Father Paul. Eve exclaimed that he took the priest solely from -a sense of the suitability of a retinue, and Julian, though he denied -the charge, did not do so very convincingly. He had certainly never -before felt the need of a retinue. He had always spent at least a week -of his holidays on Aphros, taking his favourite hawk with him, and -living either in his father's house in the village, or staying with the -peasants. When he returned, he was always uncommunicative as to how he -had passed his time. - -Because he felt the stirring of events in the air, and because he -knew from signs and hints dropped to him that his coming was awaited -with an excited expectancy, he chose to provide himself with the -dignity of an attendant. He had, characteristically, breathed no word -of his suspicions, but moved coldly self-reliant in the midst of his -uncertainties. Father Paul only thought him more than usually silent -as he busied himself with the sail of his little boat and put out to -sea from the pier of Herakleion. Aphros lay ahead, some seven or eight -miles--a couple of hours' sailing in a good breeze. - -His white sails were observed some way off by the villagers, who by -chance were already assembled at the weekly market in the village -square. They deserted the pens and stalls to cluster round the top -of the steps that descended, steep as an upright ladder, and cut in -the face of the rock, from the market place straight down to the sea, -where the white foam broke round the foot of the cliff. Julian saw -the coloured crowd from his boat; he distinguished faces as he drew -nearer, and made out the flutter of handkerchiefs from the hands of -the women. The village hung sheerly over the sea, the face of the -white houses flat with the face of the brown rocks, the difference of -colour alone betraying where the one began and the other ended, as -though some giant carpenter had planed away all inequalities of surface -from the eaves down to the washing water. The fleet of fishing-boats, -their bare, graceful masts swaying a little from the perpendicular as -the boats ranged gently at their moorings with the sigh of the almost -imperceptible waves, lay like resting seagulls in the harbour. - -'They are waiting to welcome you--feudal, too feudal,' growled Father -Paul, who, though himself the creature and dependent of the Davenants, -loudly upheld his democratic views for the rest of mankind. - -'And why?' muttered Julian. 'This has never happened before. I have -been away only four months.' - -Three fishermen wearing the white kilted fustanelle and tasselled -shoes were already on the jetty with hands outstretched to take his -mooring-rope. Eager faces looked down from above, and a hum went -through the little crowd as Julian sprang on to the jetty, the boat -rocking as his weight released it--a hum that died slowly, like the -note of an organ, fading harmoniously into a complete silence. Paul -knew suddenly that the moment was significant. He saw Julian hesitate, -faltering as it were between sea and land, his dark head and broad -shoulders framed in an immensity of blue, the cynosure of the crowd -above, still silent and intent upon his actions. He hesitated until his -hesitation became apparent to all. Paul saw that his hands were shut -and his face stern. The silence of the crowd was becoming oppressive, -when a woman's voice rang out like a bell in the pellucid air,-- - -'Liberator!' - -Clear, sudden, and resonant, the cry vibrated and hung upon echo, so -that the mind followed it, when it was no more heard, round the island -coast, where it ran up into the rocky creeks, and entered upon the -breeze into the huts of goat-herds on the hill. Julian slowly raised -his head as at a challenge. He looked up into the furnace of eyes -bent upon him, lustrous eyes in the glow of faces tanned to a golden -brown, finding in all the same query, the same expectancy, the same -breathless and suspended confidence. For a long moment he gazed up, and -they gazed down, challenge, acceptance, homage, loyalty, devotion, and -covenant passing unspoken between them; then, his hesitation a dead -and discarded thing, he moved forward and set his foot firmly upon the -lowest step. The silence of the crowd was broken by a single collective -murmur. - -The crowd--which consisted of perhaps not more than fifty souls, men -and women--parted at the top as his head and shoulders appeared on the -level of the market-place. Paul followed, tripping over his soutane on -the ladder-like stairs. He saw Julian's white shoes climbing, climbing -the flight, until the boy stood deliberately upon the market-place. A -few goats were penned up for sale between wattled hurdles, bleating -for lost dams or kids; a clothes-stall displayed highly-coloured -handkerchiefs, boleros for the men, silk sashes, puttees, tasselled -caps, and kilted fustanelles; a fruit-stall, lined with bright blue -paper, was stacked from floor to ceiling with oranges, figs, bunches -of grapes, and scarlet tomatoes. An old woman, under an enormous green -umbrella, sat hunched on the back of a tiny gray donkey. - -Julian stood, grave and moody, surveying the people from under -lowered brows. They were waiting for him to speak to them, but, as -a contrast to the stifled volubility seething in their own breasts, -his stillness, unexpected and surprising, impressed them more than -any flow of eloquence. He seemed to have forgotten about them, -though his eyes dwelt meditatively on their ranks; he seemed remote, -preoccupied; faintly disdainful, though tolerant, of the allegiance -they had already, mutely, laid at his feet, and were prepared to offer -him in terms of emotional expression. He seemed content to take this -for granted. He regarded them for a space, then turned to move in the -direction of his father's house. - -The people pressed forward after him, a whispering and rustling -bodyguard, disconcerted but conquered and adoring. Their numbers had -been increased since the news of his landing had run through the town. -Fishermen, and labourers from olive-grove and vineyard, men whose lives -were lived in the sun, their magnificent bare throats and arms glowed -like nectarines in the white of the loose shirts they wore. Knotted -handkerchiefs were about their heads, and many of them wore broad -hats of rough straw over the handkerchief. Ancestrally more Italian -than Greek, for the original population of the archipelago of Hagios -Zacharie had, centuries before, been swamped by the settlements of -colonising Genoese, they resembled the peasants of southern Italy. - -The headman of the village walked with them, Tsantilas Tsigaridis, -sailor and fisherman since he could remember, whose skin was drawn -tightly over the fine bony structure of his face, and whose crisp -white hair escaped in two bunches over his temples from under the red -handkerchief he wore; he was dressed, incongruously enough, in a blue -English jersey which Mrs Davenant had given him, and a coffee-coloured -fustanelle. Behind the crowd, as though he were shepherding them, -Nico Zapantiotis, overseer of the Davenant vineyards, walked with a -long pole in his hand, a white sheepdog at his heels, and a striped -blue and white shirt fluttering round his body, open at the throat, -and revealing the swelling depth of his hairy chest. Between these -two notables pressed the crowd, bronzed and coloured, eyes eager and -attentive and full of fire, a gleam of silver ear-rings among the shiny -black ringlets. Bare feet and heelless shoes shuffled alike over the -cobbles. - -At the end of the narrow street, where the children ran out as in the -story of the Pied Piper to join in the progress, the doorway of the -Davenant house faced them. - -It was raised on three steps between two columns. The monastery had -been a Genoese building, but the Greek influence was unmistakable in -the columns and the architrave over the portico. Julian strode forward -as though unconscious of his following. Paul became anxious. He hurried -alongside. - -'You must speak to these people,' he whispered. - -Julian mounted the steps and turned in the dark frame of the doorway. -The people had come to a standstill, filling the narrow street. It was -now they who looked up to Julian, and he who looked down upon them, -considering them, still remote and preoccupied, conscious that here and -now the seed sown in the club-rooms must bear its fruit, that life, -grown impatient of waiting for a summons he did not give, had come to -him of its own accord and ordered him to take the choice of peace or -war within its folded cloak. If he had hoped to escape again to England -with a decision still untaken, that hope was to be deluded. He was -being forced and hustled out of his childhood into the responsibilities -of a man. He could not plead the nebulousness of his mind; action -called to him, loud and insistent. In vain he told himself, with the -frown deepening between his brows, and the people who watched him -torn with anxiety before that frown--in vain he told himself that the -situation was fictitious, theatrical. He could not convince himself of -this truth with the fire of the people's gaze directed upon him. He -must speak to them; they were silent, expectant, waiting. The words -broke from him impelled, as he thought, by his terror of his own -helplessness and lack of control, but to his audience they came as a -command, a threat, and an invitation. - -'What is it you want of me?' - -He stood on the highest of the three steps, alone, the back of his head -pressed against the door, and a hand on each of the flanking columns. -The black-robed priest had taken his place below him, to one side, -on the ground level. Julian felt a sudden resentment against these -waiting people, that had driven him to bay, the resentment of panic and -isolation, but to them, his attitude betraying nothing, he appeared -infallible, dominating, and inaccessible. - -Tsantilas Tsigaridis came forward as spokesman, a gold ring hanging -in the lobe of one ear, and a heavy silver ring shining dully on the -little finger of his brown, knotted hand. - -'Kyrie,' he said, 'Angheliki Zapantiotis has hailed you. We are your -own people. By the authorities we are persecuted as though we were -Bulgars, we, their brothers in blood. Last week a score of police came -in boats from Herakleion and raided our houses in search of weapons. -Our women ran screaming to the vineyards. Such weapons as the police -could find were but the pistols we carry for ornament on the feast-days -of church, and these they removed, for the sake, as we know, not being -blind, of the silver on the locks which they will use to their own -advantage. By such persecutions we are harried. We may never know when -a hand will not descend on one of our number, on a charge of sedition -or conspiracy, and he be seen no more. We are not organised for -resistance. We are blind beasts, leaderless.' - -A woman in the crowd began to sob, burying her face in her scarlet -apron. A man snarled his approval of the spokesman's words, and spat -violently into the gutter. - -'And you demand of me?' said Julian, again breaking his silence. -'Championship? leadership? You cannot say you are unjustly accused of -sedition! What report of Aphros could I carry to Herakleion?' - -He saw the people meek, submissive, beneath his young censure, and the -knowledge of his power surged through him like a current through water. - -'Kyrie,' said the old sailor, reproved, but with the same inflexible -dignity, 'we know that we are at your mercy. But we are your own -people. We have been the people of your people for four generations. -The authorities have torn even the painting of your grandfather from -the walls of our assembly room....' - -'Small blame to them,' thought Julian; 'that shows their good sense.' - -Tsantilas pursued,-- - -' ... we are left neither public nor private liberty. We are already -half-ruined by the port-dues which are directed against us islanders -and us alone.' A crafty look came into his eyes. 'Here, Kyrie, you -should be in sympathy.' - -Julian's moment of panic had passed; he was now conscious only of his -complete control. He gave way to the anger prompted by the mercenary -trait of the Levantine that marred the man's natural and splendid -dignity. - -'What sympathy I may have,' he said loudly, 'is born of compassion, and -not of avaricious interest.' - -He could not have told what instinct urged him to rebuke these people -to whose petition he was decided to yield. He observed that with each -fresh reproof they cringed the more. - -'Compassion, Kyrie, and proprietary benevolence,' Tsantilas rejoined, -recognising his mistake. 'We know that in you we find a disinterested -mediator. We pray to God that we may be allowed to live at peace with -Herakleion. We pray that we may be allowed to place our difficulties -and our sorrows in your hands for a peaceful settlement.' - -Julian looked at him, majestic as an Arab and more cunning than a Jew, -and a slightly ironical smile wavered on his lips. - -'Old brigand,' he thought, 'the last thing he wants is to live at peace -with Herakleion; he's spoiling for a stand-up fight. Men on horses, -himself at their head, charging the police down this street, and -defending our house like a beleaguered fort; rifles cracking from every -window, and the more police corpses the better. May I be there to see -it!' - -His mind flew to Eve, whom he had last seen lying in a hammock, drowsy, -dressed in white, and breathing the scent of the gardenia she held -between her fingers. What part would she, the spoilt, the exquisite, -play if there were to be bloodshed on Aphros? - -All this while he was silent, scowling at the multitude, who waited -breathless for his next words. - -'Father will half kill me,' he thought. - -At that moment Tsigaridis, overcome by his anxiety, stretched out his -hands towards him, surrendering his dignity in a supreme appeal,-- - -'Kyrie? I have spoken.' - -He dropped his hands to his sides, bowed his head, and fell back a pace. - -Julian pressed his shoulders strongly against the door; it was solid -enough. The sun, striking on his bare hand, was hot. The faces and -necks and arms of the people below him were made of real flesh and -blood. The tension, the anxiety in their eyes was genuine. He chased -away the unreality. - -'You have spoken,' he said, 'and I have accepted.' - -The woman named Angheliki Zapantiotis, who had hailed him as liberator, -cast herself forward on to the step at his feet, as a stir and a -movement, that audibly expressed itself in the shifting of feet and the -releasing of contained breaths, ruffled through the crowd. He lifted -his hand to enjoin silence, and spoke with his hand raised high above -the figure of the woman crouching on the step. - -He told them that there could now be no going back, that, although -the time of waiting might seem to them long and weary, they must -have hopeful trust in him. He exacted from them trust, fidelity, and -obedience. His voice rang sharply on the word, and his glance circled -imperiously, challenging defiance. It encountered none. He told them -that he would never give his sanction to violence save as a last -resort. He became intoxicated with the unaccustomed wine of oratory. - -'An island is our refuge; we are the garrison of a natural fortress, -that we can hold against the assault of our enemies from the sea. We -will never seek them out, we will be content to wait, restrained and -patient, until they move with weapons in their hands against us. Let us -swear that our only guilt of aggression shall be to preserve our coasts -inviolate.' - -A deep and savage growl answered him as he paused. He was flushed -with the spirit of adventure, the prerogative of youth. The force -of youth moved so strongly within him that every man present felt -himself strangely ready and equipped for the calls of the enterprise. -A mysterious alchemy had taken place. They, untutored, unorganised, -scarcely knowing what they wanted, much less how to obtain it, -had offered him the formless material of their blind and chaotic -rebellion, and he, having blown upon it with the fire of his breath, -was welding it now to an obedient, tempered weapon in his hands. He had -taken control. He might disappear and the curtains of silence close -together behind his exit; Paul, watching, knew that these people would -henceforward wait patiently, and with confidence, for his return. - -He dropped suddenly from his rhetoric into a lower key. - -'In the meantime I lay upon you a charge of discretion. No one in -Herakleion must get wind of this meeting; Father Paul and I will be -silent, the rest lies with you. Until you hear of me again, I desire -you to go peaceably about your ordinary occupations.' - -'Better put that in,' he thought to himself. - -'I know nothing, nor do I wish to know,' he continued, shrewdly -examining their faces, 'of the part you played in the robbery at the -casino. I only know that I will never countenance the repetition -of any such attempt; you will have to choose between me and your -brigandage.' He suddenly stamped his foot. 'Choose now! which is it to -be?' - -'Kyrie, Kyrie,' said Tsigaridis, 'you are our only hope.' - -'Lift up your hands,' Julian said intolerantly. - -His eyes searched among the bronzed arms that rose at his command like -a forest of lances; he enjoyed forcing obedience upon the crowd and -seeing their humiliation. - -'Very well,' he said then, and the hands sank, 'see to it that you -remember your promise. I have no more to say. Wait, trust, and hope.' - -He carried his hand to his forehead and threw it out before him in a -gesture of farewell and dismissal. - -He suspected himself of having acted and spoken in a theatrical manner, -but he knew also that through the chaos of his mind an unextinguishable -light was dawning. - - - - -V - - -Julian in the candour of his inexperience unquestioningly believed that -the story would not reach Herakleion. Before the week was out, however, -he found himself curiously eyed in the streets, and by the end of the -week, going to dinner at the French Legation, he was struck by the hush -that fell as his name was announced in the mirrored drawing-rooms. -Madame Lafarge said to him severely,-- - -'Jeune homme, vous avez été très indiscret,' but a smile lurked in her -eyes beneath her severity. - -An immense Serbian, almost a giant, named Grbits, with a flat, -Mongolian face, loomed ominously over him. - -'Young man, you have my sympathy. You have disquieted the Greeks. You -may count at any time upon my friendship.' - -His fingers were enveloped and crushed in Grbits' formidable handshake. - -The older diplomatists greeted him with an assumption of censure that -was not seriously intended to veil their tolerant amusement. - -'Do you imagine that we have nothing to do,' Don Rodrigo Valdez said to -him, 'that you set out to enliven the affairs of Herakleion?' - -Fru Thyregod, the Danish Excellency, took him into a corner and tapped -him on the arm with her fan with that half flirtatious, half friendly -familiarity she adopted towards all men. - -'You are a dark horse, my dark boy,' she said meaningly, and, as he -pretended ignorance, raising his brows and shaking his head, added, -'I'm much indebted to you as a living proof of my perception. I always -told them; I always said, "Carl, that boy is an adventurer," and Carl -said, "Nonsense, Mabel, your head is full of romance," but I said, -"Mark my words, Carl, that boy will flare up; he's quiet now, but -you'll have to reckon with him."' - -He realised the extent of the gratitude of social Herakleion. He -had provided a flavour which was emphatically absent from the usual -atmosphere of these gatherings. Every Legation in turn, during both -the summer and the winter season, extended its hospitality to its -colleagues with complete resignation as to the lack of all possibility -of the unforeseen. The rules of diplomatic precedence rigorously -demanding a certain grouping, the Danish Excellency, for example, might -sit before her mirror fluffing out her already fluffy fair hair with -the complacent if not particularly pleasurable certainty that this -evening, at the French Legation, she would be escorted in to dinner -by the Roumanian Minister, and that on her other hand would sit the -Italian Counsellor, while to-morrow, at the Spanish Legation, she would -be escorted to dinner by the Italian Counsellor and would have upon her -other hand the Roumanian Minister--unless, indeed, no other Minister's -wife but Madame Lafarge was present, in which case she would be placed -on the left hand of Don Rodrigo Valdez. She would have preferred to -sit beside Julian Davenant, but he, of course, would be placed amongst -the young men--secretaries, young Greeks, and what not--at the end -of the table. These young men--'les petits jeunes gens du bout de la -table,' as Alexander Christopoulos, including himself in their number, -contemptuously called them--always ate mournfully through their dinner -without speaking to one another. They did not enjoy themselves, nor did -their host or hostess enjoy having them there, but it was customary -to invite them.... Fru Thyregod knew that she must not exhaust all -her subjects of conversation with her two neighbours this evening, but -must keep a provision against the morrow; therefore, true to her little -science, she refrained from mentioning Julian's adventure on Aphros -to the Roumanian, and discoursed on it behind her fan to the Italian -only. Other people seemed to be doing the same. Julian heard whispers, -and saw glances directed towards him. Distinctly, Herakleion and its -hostesses would be grateful to him. - -He felt slightly exhilarated. He noticed that no Greeks were present, -and thought that they had been omitted on his account. He reflected, -not without a certain apprehensive pleasure, that if this roomful -knew, as it evidently did, the story would not be long in reaching -his father. Who had betrayed him? Not Paul, he was sure, nor Kato, to -whom he had confided the story. (Tears had come into her eyes, she had -clasped her hands, and she had kissed him, to his surprise, on his -forehead.) He was glad on the whole that he had been betrayed. He had -come home in a fever of exaltation and enthusiasm which had rendered -concealment both damping and irksome. Little incidents, of significance -to him alone, had punctuated his days by reminders of his incredible, -preposterous, and penetrating secret; to-night, for instance, the -chasseur in the hall, the big, scarlet-coated chasseur, an islander, -had covertly kissed his hand.... - -His father took an unexpected view. Julian had been prepared for anger, -in fact he had the countering phrases already in his mind as he mounted -the stairs of the house in the _platia_ on returning from the French -Legation. His father was waiting, a candle in his hand, on the landing. - -'I heard you come in. I want to ask you, Julian,' he said at once, -'whether the story I have heard in the club to-night is true? That you -went to Aphros, and entered into heaven knows what absurd covenant -with the people?' - -Julian flushed at the reprimanding tone. - -'I knew that you would not approve,' he said. 'But one must do -something. Those miserable, bullied people, denied the right to -live....' - -'Tut,' said his father impatiently. 'Have they really taken you in? -I thought you had more sense. I have had a good deal of trouble in -explaining to Malteios that you are only a hot-headed boy, carried away -by the excitement of the moment. You see, I am trying to make excuses -for you, but I am annoyed, Julian, I am annoyed. I thought I could -trust you. Paul, too. However, you bring your own punishment on your -head, for you will have to keep away from Herakleion in the immediate -future.' - -'Keep away from Herakleion?' cried Julian. - -'Malteios' hints were unmistakable,' his father said dryly. 'I am glad -to see you are dismayed. You had better go to bed now, and I will speak -to you to-morrow.' - -Mr Davenant started to go upstairs, but turned again, and came down the -two or three steps, still holding his candle in his hand. - -'Come,' he said in a tone of remonstrance, 'if you really take the -thing seriously, look at it at least for a moment with practical sense. -What is the grievance of the Islands? That they want to be independent -from Herakleion. If they must belong to anybody, they say, let them -belong to Italy rather than to Greece or to Herakleion. And why? -Because they speak an Italian rather than a Greek patois! Because a lot -of piratical Genoese settled in them five hundred years ago! Well, what -do you propose to do, my dear Julian? Hand the Islands over to Italy?' - -'They want independence,' Julian muttered. 'They aren't even allowed -to speak their own language,' he continued, raising his voice. 'You -know it is forbidden in the schools. You know that the port-dues in -Herakleion ruin them--and are intended to ruin them. You know they are -oppressed in every petty as well as in every important way. You know -that if they were independent they wouldn't trouble Herakleion.' - -'Independent! independent!' said Mr Davenant, irritable and uneasy. -'Still, you haven't told me what you proposed to do. Did you mean to -create a revolution?' - -Julian hesitated. He did not know. He said boldly,-- - -'If need be.' - -Mr Davenant snorted. - -'Upon my word,' he cried sarcastically, 'you have caught the emotional -tone of Aphros to perfection. I suppose you saw yourself holding -Panaïoannou at bay? If these are your ideas, I shall certainly support -Malteios in keeping you away. I am on the best of terms with Malteios, -and I cannot afford to allow your Quixotism to upset the balance. I can -obtain almost any concession from Malteios,' he added thoughtfully, -narrowing his eyes and rubbing his hand across his chin. - -Julian watched his father with distaste and antagonism. - -'And that is all you consider?' he said then. - -'What else is there to consider?' Mr Davenant replied. 'I am a -practical man, and practical men don't run after chimeras. I hope I'm -not more cynical than most. You know very well that at the bottom of -my heart I sympathise with the Islands. Come,' he said, with a sudden -assumption of frankness, seeing that he was creating an undesirable -rift between himself and his son, 'I will even admit to you, in -confidence, that the republic doesn't treat its Islands as well as it -might. You know, too, that I respect and admire Madame Kato; she comes -from the Islands, and has every right to hold the views of an islander. -But there's no reason why you should espouse those views, Julian. We -are foreigners here, representatives of a great family business, and -that business, when all's said and done, must always remain our first -consideration.' - -'Yet people here say,' Julian argued, still hoping for the best against -the cold disillusionment creeping over him, 'that no political move can -be made without allowing for your influence and Uncle Robert's. And my -grandfather, after all....' - -'Ah, your grandfather!' said Mr Davenant, 'your grandfather was an -extremely sagacious man, the real founder of the family tradition, -though I wouldn't like Malteios to hear me say so. He knew well enough -that in the Islands he held a lever which gave him, if he chose to use -it, absolute control over Herakleion. He only used it once, when he -wanted something they refused to give him; they held out against him -for a year, but ultimately they came to heel. A very sagacious man.... -Don't run away with the idea that he was inspired by anything other -than a most practical grasp--though I don't say it wasn't a bold one--a -most practical grasp of the situation. He gave the politicians of -Herakleion a lesson they haven't yet forgotten. - -He paused, and, as Julian said nothing, added-- - -'We keep very quiet, your uncle Robert and I, but Malteios, and -Stavridis himself, know that in reality we hold them on a rope. We -give them a lot of play, but at any moment we choose, we can haul them -in. A very satisfactory arrangement. Tacit agreements, to my mind, are -always the most satisfactory. And so you see that I can't tolerate your -absurd, uneducated interference. Why, there's no end to the harm you -might do! Some day you will thank me.' - -As Julian still said nothing, he looked at his son, who was standing, -staring at the floor, a deep frown on his forehead, thunderous, -unconvinced. Mr Davenant, being habitually uncommunicative, felt -aggrieved that his explanatory condescension had not been received with -a more attentive deference. He also felt uneasy. Julian's silences were -always disquieting. - -'You are very young still,' he said, in a more conciliatory tone, 'and -I ought perhaps to blame myself for allowing you to go about so freely -in this very unreal and bewildering place. Perhaps I ought not to have -expected you to keep your head. Malteios is quite right: Herakleion is -no place for a young man. Don't think me hard in sending you away. Some -day you will come back with, I hope, a better understanding.' - -He rested his hand kindly for a moment on Julian's shoulder, then -turned away, and the light of his candle died as he passed the bend of -the stairs. - - -On the following evening Julian, returning from the country-house where -he had spent the day, was told that the Premier was with Mr Davenant -and would be glad to see him. - -He had ridden out to the country, regardless of the heat, turning -instinctively to Eve in his strange and rebellious frame of mind. -For some reason which he did not analyse, he identified her with -Aphros--the Aphros of romance and glamour to which he so obstinately -clung. To his surprise she listened unresponsive and sulky. - -'You are not interested, Eve?' - -Then the reason of her unreasonableness broke out. - -'You have kept this from me for a whole week, and you confide in me -now because you know the story is public property. You expect me to be -interested. Grand merci!' - -'But, Eve, I had pledged myself not to tell a soul.' - -'Did you tell Kato?' - -'Damn your intuition!' he said angrily. - -She lashed at him then, making him feel guilty, miserable, ridiculous, -though as he sat scowling over the sea--they were in their favourite -place at the bottom of the garden, where under the pergola of gourds -it was cool even at that time of the day--he appeared to her more than -usually unmoved and forbidding. - -After a long pause,-- - -'Julian, I am sorry.--I don't often apologise.--I said I was sorry.' - -He looked coldly at her with his mournful eyes, that, green in repose, -turned black in anger. - -'Your vanity makes me ill.' - -'You told Kato.' - -'Jealousy!' - -She began to protest; then, with a sudden change of front,-- - -'You know I am jealous. When I am jealous, I lie awake all night. I -lose all sense of proportion. It's no joke, my jealousy; it's like an -open wound. I put up a stockade round it to protect it. You are not -considerate.' - -'Can you never forget yourself? Do you care nothing for the Islands? -Are you so self-centred, so empty-headed? Are all women, I wonder, as -vain as you?' - -They sat on the parapet, angry, inimical, with the coloured gourds -hanging heavily over their heads. - -Far out to sea the Islands lay, so pure and fair and delicate that -Julian, beholding them, violently rejected the idea that in this -possession of such disarming loveliness his grandfather had seen merely -a lever for the coercion of recalcitrant politicians. They lay there -as innocent and fragile as a lovely woman asleep, veiled by the haze -of sunshine as the sleeper's limbs by a garment of lawn. Julian gazed -till his eyes and his heart swam in the tenderness of passionate -and protective ownership. He warmed towards his grandfather, the man -whose generous ideals had been so cynically libelled by the succeeding -generation. No man deserving the name could be guilty of so repulsive -an act of prostitution.... - -'They will see me here again,' he exclaimed, striking his fist on the -parapet. - -To the startled question in Eve's eyes he vouchsafed an explanation. - -'Malteios is sending me away. But when his term of office is over, I -shall come back. It will be a good opportunity. We will break with -Herakleion over the change of government. Kato will restrain Malteios -so long as he is in power, I can trust her; but I shall make my break -with Stavridis.' - -In his plans for the future he had again forgotten Eve. - -'You are going away?' - -'For a year or perhaps longer,' he said gloomily. - -Her natural instinct of defiant secrecy kept the flood of protest back -from her lips. Already in her surprisingly definite philosophy of life, -self-concealment held a sacred and imperious position. Secrecy--and her -secrecy, because disguised under a superficial show of expansiveness, -was the more fundamental, the more dangerous--secrecy she recognised as -being both a shield and a weapon. Therefore, already apprehending that -existence in a world of men was a fight, a struggle, and a pursuit, -she took refuge in her citadel. And, being possessed of a picturesque -imagination, she had upon a certain solemn occasion carried a symbolic -key to the steps which led down to the sea from the end of the pergola -of gourds, and had flung it out as far as she was able into the -guardianship of the waters. - -She remembered this now as she sat on the parapet with Julian, and -smiled to herself ironically. She looked at him with the eye of an -artist, and thought how his limbs, fallen into their natural grace -of relaxed muscularity, suggested the sculptural ease of stone far -more than the flat surfaces of canvas. Sculptural, she thought, was -undoubtedly the adjective which thrust itself upon one. In one of her -spasmodic outbursts of activity she had modelled him, but, disdainful -of her own talents, had left the clay to perish. Then she remembered -acutely that she would not see him again. - -'My mythological Julian....' she murmured, smiling. - -A world of flattery lay in her tone. - -'You odd little thing,' he said, 'why the adjective?' - -She made an expressive gesture with her hands. - -'Your indifference, your determination--you're so intractable, so -contemptuous, so hard--and sometimes so inspired. You're so fatally -well suited to the Islands. Prince of Aphros?' she launched at him -insinuatingly. - -She was skilful; he flushed. She was giving him what he had, half -unconsciously, sought. - -'Siren!' he said. - -'Am I? Perhaps, after all, we are both equally well suited to the -Islands,' she said lightly. - -And for some reason their conversation dropped. Yet it sufficed to -send him, stimulated, from her side, full of self-confidence; he had -forgotten that she was barely seventeen, a child! and for him the smile -of pride in her eyes had been the smile of Aphros. - -In the house, on his way through, he met Father Paul. - -'Everything is known,' said the priest, wringing his hand with his -usual energy. - -'What am I to do? Malteios wants me to leave Herakleion. Shall I -refuse? I am glad to have met you,' said Julian, 'I was on my way to -find you.' - -'Go, if Malteios wants you to go,' the priest replied, 'the time is not -ripe yet; but are you determined, in your own mind, to throw in your -lot with Hagios Zacharie? Remember, I cautioned you when we were still -on Aphros: you must be prepared for a complete estrangement from your -family. You will be running with the hare, no longer hunting with the -hounds. Have you considered?' - -'I am with the Islands.' - -'Good,' said the priest, making a sign over him. 'Go, all the same, -if Malteios exacts it; you will be the more of a man when you return. -Malteios' party will surely fall at the next elections. By then we -shall be ready, and I will see that you are summoned. God bless you.' - -'Will you go out to Eve in the garden, father? She is under the -pergola. Go and talk to her.' - -'She is unhappy?' asked the priest, with a sharp look. - -'A little, I think,' said Julian, 'will you go?' - -'At once, at once,' said Paul, and he went quickly, through the grove -of lemon-trees, stumbling over his soutane.... - -Julian returned to Herakleion, where he found his father and Malteios -in the big frescoed drawing-room, standing in an embrasure of the -windows. The Premier's face as he turned was full of tolerant benignity. - -'Ah, here is our young friend,' he began paternally. 'What are these -stories I hear of you, young man? I have been telling your father -that when I was a schoolboy, a _lycéen_--I, too, tried to meddle in -politics. Take my advice, and keep clear of these things till you -are older. There are many things for the young: dancing, poetry, and -love. Politics to the old and the middle-aged. Of course, I know your -little escapade was nothing but a joke ... high spirits ... natural -mischief....' - -The interview was galling and humiliating to Julian; he disliked the -Premier's bantering friendliness, through which he was not sufficiently -experienced to discern the hidden mistrust, apprehension, and -hostility. His father, compelled to a secret and resentful pride in -his son, was conscious of these things. But Julian, his eyes fixed on -the middle button of the Premier's frock-coat, sullen and rebellious, -tried to shut his ears to the prolonged murmur of urbane derision. He -wished to look down upon, to ignore Malteios, the unreal man, and this -he could not do while he allowed those smooth and skilful words to flow -unresisted in their suave cruelty over his soul. He shut his ears, and -felt only the hardening of his determination. He would go; he would -leave Herakleion, only to return with increase of strength in the hour -of fulfilment. - -Dismissed, he set out for Kato's flat, hatless, in a mood of thunder. -His violence was not entirely genuine, but he persuaded himself, for -he had lately been with Eve, and the plausible influence of Herakleion -was upon him. He strode down the street, aware that people turned to -gaze at him as he went. On the quay, the immense Grbits rose suddenly -up from the little green table where he sat drinking vermouth outside a -café. - -'My young friend,' he said, 'they tell me you are leaving Herakleion? - -'They are wise,' he boomed. 'You would break their toys if you -remained. But _I_ remain; shall I watch for you? You will come back? I -have hated the Greeks well. Shall we play a game with them? ha! ha!' - -His huge laugh reverberated down the quay as Julian passed on, looking -at the visiting card which the giant had just handed to him:-- - - - SRGJÁN GRBITS. - - _Attaché à la Légation de S.M. le Roi des Serbes, - Croates, et Slovènes._ - - -'Grbits my spy!' he was thinking. 'Fantastic, fantastic.' - -Kato's flat was at the top of a four-storied house on the quay. On the -ground floor of the house was a cake-shop, and, like every other house -along the sea-front, over every window hung a gay, striped sunblind -that billowed slightly like a flag in the breeze from the sea. Inside -the cake-shop a number of Levantines, dressed in their hot black, were -eating sweet things off the marble counter. Julian could never get Eve -past the cake-shop when they went to Kato's together; she would always -wander in to eat _choux à la crème_, licking the whipped cream off her -fingers with a guilty air until he lent her his handkerchief, her own -being invariably lost. - -Julian went into the house by a side-door, up the steep narrow -stairs, the walls painted in Pompeian red with a slate-coloured -dado; past the first floor, where on two frosted glass doors ran the -inscription: KONINKLIJKE NEDERLANDSCHE STOOMBOOT-MAATSCHAPPIJ; past -the second floor, where a brass plate said: Th. Mavrudis et fils, -Cie. d'assurance; past the third floor, where old Grigoriu, the -money-lender, was letting himself in by a latchkey; to the fourth -floor, where a woman in the native dress of the Islands admitted him to -Kato's flat. - -The singer was seated on one of her low, carpet-covered divans, her -throat and arms, as usual, bare, the latter covered with innumerable -bangles; her knees wide apart and a hand placed resolutely upon each -knee; before her stood Tsigaridis, the headman of Aphros, his powerful -body encased in the blue English jersey Mrs Davenant had given him, -and from the compression of which his pleated skirt sprang out so -ridiculously. Beside Kato on the divan lay a basket of ripe figs which -he had brought her. Their two massive figures disproportionately filled -the already overcrowded little room. - -They regarded Julian gravely. - -'I am going away,' he said, standing still before their scrutiny, as a -pupil before his preceptors. - -Kato bowed her head. They knew. They had discussed whether they should -let him go, and had decided that he might be absent from Herakleion -until the next elections. - -'But you will return, Kyrie?' - -Tsigaridis spoke respectfully, but with urgent authority, much in the -tone a regent might adopt towards a youthful king. - -'Of course I shall return,' Julian answered, and smiled and added, 'You -mustn't lose faith, Tsantilas.' - -The fisherman bowed with that dignity he inherited from unnamed but -remotely ascending generations; he took his leave of Kato and the boy, -shutting the door quietly behind him. Kato came up to Julian, who had -turned away and was staring out of the window. From the height of this -fourth story one looked down upon the peopled quay below, and saw -distinctly the houses upon the distant Islands. - -'You are sad,' she said. - -She moved to the piano, which, like herself, was a great deal too big -for the room, and which alone of all the pieces of furniture was not -loaded with ornaments. Julian had often wondered, looking at the large -expanse of lid, how Kato had so consistently resisted the temptation to -put things upon it. The most he had ever seen there was a gilt basket -of hydrangeas, tied with a blue ribbon, from which hung the card of the -Premier. - -He knew that within twenty-four hours he would be at sea, and that -Herakleion as he would last have seen it--from the deck of the -steamer, white, with many coloured sunblinds, and, behind it, Mount -Mylassa, rising so suddenly, so threateningly, seemingly determined -to crowd the man-built town off its narrow strip of coast into the -water--Herakleion, so pictured, would be but a memory; within a -week, he knew, he would be in England. He did not know when he would -see Herakleion again. Therefore he abandoned himself, on this last -evening, to Aphros, to the memory of Eve, and to romance, not naming, -not linking the three that took possession of and coloured all the -daylight of his youth, but quiescent, sitting on the floor, his knees -clasped, and approaching again, this time in spirit, the island where -the foam broke round the foot of the rocks and the fleet of little -fishing-boats swayed like resting seagulls in the harbour. He scarcely -noticed that, all this while, Kato was singing. She sang in a very low -voice, as though she were singing a lullaby, and, though the words did -not reach his consciousness, he knew that the walls of the room had -melted into the warm and scented freedom of the terraces on Aphros when -the vintage was at its height, and when the air, in the evening, was -heavy with the smell of the grape. He felt Eve's fingers lightly upon -his brows. He saw again her shadowy gray eyes, red mouth, and waving -hair. He visualised the sparkle that crept into her eyes--strange eyes -they were! deep-set, slanting slightly upwards, so ironical sometimes, -and sometimes so inexplicably sad--when she was about to launch one of -her more caustic and just remarks. How illuminating her remarks could -be! they always threw a new light; but she never insisted on their -value; on the contrary, she passed carelessly on to something else. But -whatever she touched, she lit.... One came to her with the expectation -of being stimulated, perhaps a little bewildered, and one was not -disappointed. He recalled her so vividly--yet recollection of her could -never be really vivid; the construction of her personality was too -subtle, too varied; as soon as one had left her one wanted to go back -to her, thinking that this time, perhaps, one would succeed better in -seizing and imprisoning the secret of her elusiveness. Julian caught -himself smiling dreamily as he conjured her up. He heard the murmur of -her seductive voice,-- - -'I love you, Julian.' - -He accepted the words, which he had heard often from her lips, dreamily -as part of his last, deliberate evening, so losing himself in his -dreams that he almost failed to notice when the music died and the -notes of Kato's voice slid from the recitative of her peasant songs -into conversation with himself. She left the music-stool and came -towards him where he sat on the floor. - -'Julian,' she said, looking down at him, 'your cousin Eve, who is full -of perception, says you are so primitive that the very furniture is -irksome to you and that you dispense with it as far as you can. I know -you prefer the ground to a sofa.' - -He became shy, as he instantly did when the topic of his own -personality was introduced. He felt dimly that Eve, who remorselessly -dragged him from the woods into the glare of sunlight, alone had the -privilege. At the same time he recognised her methods of appropriating -a characteristic, insignificant in itself, and of building it up, -touching it with her own peculiar grace and humour until it became -a true and delicate attribute, growing into life thanks to her -christening of it; a method truly feminine, exquisitely complimentary, -carrying with it an insinuation faintly exciting, and creating a link -quite separately personal, an understanding, almost an obligation to -prove oneself true to her conception.... - -'So you are leaving us?' said Kato, 'you are going to live among other -standards, other influences, "_dont je ne connais point la puissance -sur votre coeur_." How soon will it be before you forget? And how soon -before you return? We want you here, Julian.' - -'For the Islands?' he asked. - -'For the Islands, and may I not say,' said Kato, spreading her hands -with a musical clinking of all her bangles, 'for ourselves also? How -soon will it be before you forget the Islands?' she forced herself to -ask, and then, relapsing, 'Which will fade first in your memory, I -wonder--the Islands? or Kato?' - -'I can't separate you in my mind,' he said, faintly ill at ease. - -'It is true that we have talked of them by the hour,' she answered, -'have we talked of them so much that they and I are entirely -identified? Do you pay me the compliment of denying me the mean -existence of an ordinary woman?' - -He thought that by answering in the affirmative he would indeed be -paying her the greatest compliment that lay within his power, for he -would be raising her to the status of a man and a comrade. He said,-- - -'I never believed, before I met you, that a woman could devote herself -so whole-heartedly to her patriotism. We have the Islands in common -between us; and, as you know, the Islands mean more than mere Islands -to me: a great many things to which I could never give a name. And -I am glad, yes, so glad, that our friendship has been, in a way, so -impersonal--as though I were your disciple, and this flat my secret -school, from which you should one day discharge me, saying "Go!"' - -Never had he appeared to her so hopelessly inaccessible as now when he -laid his admiration, his almost religious idealisation of her at her -feet. - -He went on,-- - -'You have been so infinitely good to me; I have come here so often, I -have talked so much; I have often felt, when I went away, that you, who -were accustomed to clever men, must naturally....' - -'Why not say,' she interrupted, 'instead of "clever men," "men of my -own age? my own generation"?' - -He looked at her doubtfully, checked. She was standing over him, her -hands on her hips, and he noticed the tight circles of fat round her -bent wrists, and the dimples in every joint of her stumpy hands. - -'But why apologise?' she added, taking pity on his embarrassment, with -a smile both forgiving and rueful for the ill she had brought upon -herself. 'If you have enjoyed our talks, be assured I have enjoyed -them too. For conversations to be as successful as ours have been, the -enjoyment cannot possibly be one-sided. I shall miss them when you are -gone. You go to England?' - -After a moment she said,-- - -'Isn't it strange, when those we know so intimately in one place -travel away to another place in which we have never seen them? What do -I, Kato, know of the houses you will live in in England, or of your -English friends? as some poet speaks, in a line I quoted to you just -now, of all the influences _dont je ne connais pas la puissance sur -votre coeur_! Perhaps you will even fall in love. Perhaps you will -tell this imaginary woman with whom you are to fall in love, about our -Islands?' - -'No woman but you would understand,' he said. - -'She would listen for your sake, and for your sake she would pretend -interest. Does Eve listen when you talk about the Islands?' - -'Eve doesn't care about such things. I sometimes think she cares only -about herself,' he replied with some impatience. - -'You ...' she began again, but, checking herself, she said instead, -with a grave irony that was lost upon him, 'You have flattered me -greatly to-day, Julian. I hope you may always find in me a wise -preceptor. But I can only point the way. The accomplishment lies with -you. We will work together?' She added, smiling, 'In the realms of the -impersonal? A philosophic friendship? A Platonic alliance?' - -When he left her, she was still, gallantly, smiling. - - - - -PART II--EVE - - - - -I - - -After spending nearly two years in exile, Julian was once more upon his -way to Herakleion. - -On deck, brooding upon a great coil of rope, his head bare to the -winds, absorbed and concentrated, he disregarded all his surroundings -in favour of the ever equi-distant horizon. He seemed to be entranced -by its promise. He seemed, moreover, to form part of the ship on which -he travelled; part of it, crouching as he did always at the prow, as -a figurehead forms part; part of the adventure, the winged gallantry, -the eager onward spirit indissoluble from the voyage of a ship in the -midst of waters from which no land is visible. The loneliness--for -there is no loneliness to equal the loneliness of the sea--the strife -of the wind, the generosity of the expanse, the pure cleanliness of -the nights and days, met and matched his mood. At moments, feeling -himself unconquerable, he tasted the full, rare, glory of youth and -anticipation. He did not know which he preferred: the days full of -sunlight on the wide blue sea, or the nights when the breeze was -fresher against his face, and the road more mysterious, under a young -moon that lit the ridges of the waves and travelled slowly past, -overhead, across the long black lines of cordage and rigging. He knew -only that he was happy as he had never been happy in his life. - -His fellow-passengers had watched him when he joined the ship at -Brindisi, and a murmur had run amongst them, 'Julian Davenant--son of -those rich Davenants of Herakleion, you know--great wine-growers--they -own a whole archipelago'; some one had disseminated the information -even as Julian came up the gangway, in faded old gray flannels, -hatless, in a rage with his porter, who appeared to be terrified out -of all proportion. Then, suddenly, he had lost all interest in his -luggage, tossed some money to the porter, and, walking for'ard, had -thrown himself down on the heap of ropes and stared straight in front -of him to sea, straining his eyes forward to where Greece might lie. - -From here he had scarcely stirred. The people who watched him, -benevolent and amused, thought him very young. They saw that he -relieved the intensity of his vigil with absurd and childlike games -that he played by himself, hiding and springing out at the sailors, -and laughing immoderately when he had succeeded in startling them--he -fraternised with the sailors, though with no one else--or when he saw -somebody trip over a ring in the deck. His humour, like his body, -seemed to be built on large and simple lines.... In the mornings he ran -round and round the decks in rubber-soled shoes. Then again he flung -himself down and continued with unseeing eyes to stare at the curve of -the horizon. - -Not wholly by design, he had remained absent from Herakleion for -nearly two years. The standards and systems of life on that remote -and beautiful seaboard had not faded for him, this time, with their -usual astonishing rapidity; he had rather laid them aside carefully -and deliberately, classified against the hour when he should take them -from their wrappings; he postponed the consideration of the mission -which had presented itself to him, and crushed down the recollection -of what had been, perhaps, the most intoxicating of all moments--more -intoxicating even, because more unexpected, than the insidious flattery -of Eve--the moment when Paul had said to him beneath the fragmentary -frescoes of the life of Saint Benedict, in a surprised voice, forced -into admission,-- - -'You have the quality of leadership. You have it. You have the secret. -The people will fawn to the hand that chastens.' - -Paul, his tutor and preceptor, from whom he had first learnt, so -imperceptibly that he scarcely recognised the teaching as a lesson, -of the Islands and their problems both human and political, Paul had -spoken these words to him, renouncing the authority of the master, -stepping aside to admit the accession of the pupil. From the position -of a regent, he had abased himself to that of a Prime Minister. -Julian had accepted the acknowledgement with a momentary dizziness. -In later moments of doubt, the words had flamed for him, bright with -reassurance. And then he had banished them with the rest. That world of -romance had been replaced by the world of healthy and prosaic things. -The letters he periodically received from Eve irritated him because of -their reminder of an existence he preferred to regard, for the moment, -as in abeyance. - - - 'And so you are gone: _veni, vidi, vici_. You were well started - on your career of devastation! You hadn't done badly, all things - considered. Herakleion has heaved an "Ouf!" of relief. You, - unimpressionable? _Allons donc!_ You, apathetic? You, placid, - unemotional, unawakened? _Tu te payes ma tête!_ - - 'Ah, the limitless ambition I have for you! - - 'I want you to rule, conquer, shatter, demolish. - - 'Haul down the simpering gods, the pampered gods, and put yourself - in their place. It is in your power. - - 'Why not? You have _le feu sacré_. Stagnation is death, death. Burn - their temples with fire, and trample their altars to dust.' - - -This letter, scrawled in pencil on a sheet of torn foolscap, followed -him to England immediately after his departure. Then a silence of six -months. Then he read, written on spacious yellow writing-paper, with -the monogram E.D. embossed in a triangle of mother-of-pearl, vivid and -extravagant as Eve herself-- - - - They are trying to catch me, Julian! I come quite near, quite near, - and they hold very quiet their hand with the crumbs in it. I see - the other hand stealing round to close upon me--then there's a - flutter--_un battement d'ailes--l'oiseau s'est de nouveau dérobé!_ - They remain gazing after me, with their mouths wide open. They look - so silly. And they haven't robbed me of one plume--not a single - plume. - - 'Julian! Why this mania for capture? this wanting to take from - me my most treasured possession--liberty? When I want to give, - I'll give freely--largesse with both hands, showers of gold and - flowers and precious stones--(don't say I'm not conceited!) but - I'll never give my liberty, and I'll never allow it to be forced - away from me. I should feel a traitor. I couldn't walk through a - forest and hear the wind in the trees. I couldn't listen to music. - (Ah, Julian! This afternoon I steeped myself in music; Grieg, - elf-like, mischievous, imaginative, romantic, so Latin sometimes - in spite of his Northern blood. You would love Grieg, Julian. In - the fairyland of music, Grieg plays gnome to Debussy's magician.... - Then "Khovantchina," of all music the most sublime, the most - perverse, the most _bariolé_, the most abandoned, and the most - desolate.) I could have no comradeship with a free and inspired - company. I should have betrayed their secrets, bartered away their - mysteries....' - - -He had wondered then whether she were happy. He had visualised her, -turbulent, defiant; courting danger and then childishly frightened when -danger overtook her; deliciously forthcoming, inventive, enthusiastic, -but always at heart withdrawn; she expressed herself truly when she -said that the bird fluttered away from the hand that would have closed -over it. He knew that she lived constantly, from choice, in a storm of -trouble and excitement. Yet he read between the lines of her letters a -certain dissatisfaction, a straining after something as yet unattained. -He knew that her heart was not in what she described as 'my little -round of complacent amourettes.' - -The phrase had awoken him with a smile of amusement to the fact that -she was no longer a child. He felt some curiosity to see her again -under the altered and advanced conditions of her life, yet, lazy and -diffident, he shrank from the storm of adventure and responsibility -which he knew would at once assail him. The indolence he felt sprang -largely from the certainty that he could, at any moment of his choice, -stretch out his hand to gather up again the threads that he had -relinquished. He had surveyed Herakleion, that other world, from the -distance and security of England. He had the conviction that it awaited -him, and this conviction bore with it a strangely proprietary sense in -which Eve was included. He had listened with amusement and tolerance to -the accounts of her exploits, his sleepy eyes bent upon his informant -with a quiet patience, as a man who listens to a familiar recital. He -had dwelt very often upon the possibility of his return to Herakleion, -but, without a full or even a partial knowledge of his motives, -postponed it. Yet all the while his life was a service, a dedication. - -Then the letters which he received began to mention the forthcoming -elections; a faint stir of excitement pervaded his correspondence; Eve, -detesting politics, made no reference, but his father's rare notes -betrayed an impatient and irritable anxiety; the indications grew, -culminating in a darkly allusive letter which, although anonymous, he -took to be from Grbits, and finally in a document which was a triumph -of illiterate dignity, signed by Kato, Tsigaridis, Zapantiotis, and a -double column of names that broke like a flight of exotic birds into -the mellow enclosure of the Cathedral garden where it found him. - -Conscious of his ripened and protracted strength, he took ship for -Greece. - -He had sent no word to announce his coming. A sardonic smile lifted -one corner of his mouth as he foresaw the satisfaction of taking Eve -by surprise. A standing joke between them (discovered and created, -of course, by her, the inventive) was the invariable unexpectedness -of his arrivals. He would find her altered, grown. An unreasoning -fury possessed him, a jealous rage, not directed against any human -being, but against Time itself, that it should lay hands upon Eve, -his Eve, during his absence; taking, as it were, advantage while his -back was turned. And though he had often professed to himself a lazy -indifference to her devotion to him, Julian, he found intolerable the -thought that that devotion might have been transferred elsewhere. -He rose and strode thunderously down the deck, and one of his -fellow-travellers, watching, whistled to himself and thought,-- - -'That boy has an ugly temper.' - - -Then the voyage became a dream to Julian; tiny islands, quite rosy in -the sunlight, stained the sea here and there only a few miles distant, -and along the green sea the ship drew a white, lacy wake, broad and -straight, that ever closed behind her like an obliterated path, leaving -the way of retreat trackless and unavailable. One day he realised that -the long, mountainous line which he had taken for a cloud-bank, was in -point of fact the coast. That evening, a sailor told him, they were -due to make Herakleion. He grew resentful of the apathy of passengers -and crew. The coast-line became more and more distinct. Presently they -were passing Aphros, and only eight miles lay between the ship and the -shore. The foam that gave it its name was breaking upon the rocks of -the island.... - -After that a gap occurred in his memory, and the scene slipped suddenly -to the big frescoed drawing-room of his father's house in the _platia_, -where the peace and anticipation of his voyage were replaced by the -gaiety of voices, the blatancy of lights, and the strident energy of -three violins and a piano. He had walked up from the pier after the -innumerable delays of landing; it was then eleven o'clock at night, and -as he crossed the _platia_ and heard the music coming from the lighted -and open windows of his father's house, he paused in the shadows, aware -of the life that had gone on for over a year without him. - -'And why is that surprising? I'm an astounding egotist,' he muttered. - -He was still in his habitual gray flannels, but he would not go to his -room to change. He was standing in the doorway of the drawing-room on -the first floor, smiling gently at finding himself still unnoticed, and -looking for Eve. She was sitting at the far end of the room between two -men, and behind her the painted monkeys grimaced on the wall, swinging -by hands and tails from the branches of the unconvincing trees. He saw -her as seated in the midst of that ethereal and romantic landscape. - -Skirting the walls, he made his way round to her, and in the angle he -paused, and observed her. She was unconscious of his presence. Young -Christopoulos bent towards her, and she was smiling into his eyes.... -In eighteen months she had perfected her art. - -Julian drew nearer, critically, possessively, and sarcastically -observing her still, swift to grasp the essential difference. She, who -had been a child when he had left her, was now a woman. The strangeness -of her face had come to its own in the fullness of years, and the -provocative mystery of her person, that withheld even more than it -betrayed, now justified itself likewise. There seemed to be a reason -for the red lips and ironical eyes that had been so incongruous, so -almost offensive, in the face of the child. An immense fan of orange -feathers drooped from her hand. Her hair waved turbulently round her -brows, and seemed to cast a shadow over her eyes. - -He stood suddenly before her. - -For an instant she gazed up at him, her lips parted, her breath -arrested. He laughed easily, pleased to have bettered her at her own -game of melodrama. He saw that she was really at a loss, clutching -at her wits, at her recollection of him, trying desperately to fling -a bridge across the gulf of those momentous months. She floundered -helplessly in the abrupt renewal of their relations. Seeing this, -he felt an arrogant exhilaration at the discomfiture which he had -produced. She had awoken in him, without a word spoken, the tyrannical -spirit of conquest which she induced in all men. - -Then she was saved by the intervention of the room; first by -Christopoulos shaking Julian's hand, then by dancers crowding round -with exclamations of welcome and surprise. Mr Davenant himself was -brought, and Julian stood confused and smiling, but almost silent, -among the volubility of the guests. He was providing a sensation -for lives greedy of sensation. He heard Madame Lafarge, smiling -benevolently at him behind her lorgnon, say to Don Rodrigo Valdez,-- - -'_C'est un original que ce garçon._' - -They were all there, futile and vociferous. The few new-comers -were left painfully out in the cold. They were all there: the fat -Danish Excellency, her yellow hair fuzzing round her pink face; -Condesa Valdez, painted like a courtesan; Armand, languid, with his -magnolia-like complexion; Madame Delahaye, enterprising and equivocal; -Julie Lafarge, thin and brown, timidly smiling; Panaïoannou in his -sky-blue uniform; the four sisters Christopoulos, well to the front. -These, and all the others. He felt that, at whatever moment during -the last eighteen months he had timed his return, he would have -found them just the same, complete, none missing, the same words -upon their lips. He accepted them now, since he had surrendered to -Herakleion, but as for their reality as human beings, with the possible -exceptions of Grbits the giant, crashing his way to Julian through -people like an elephant pushing through a forest, and of the Persian -Minister, hovering on the outskirts of the group with the gentle -smile still playing round his mouth, they might as well have been cut -out of cardboard. Eve had gone; he could see her nowhere. Alexander, -presumably, had gone with her. - -Captured at last by the Danish Excellency, Julian had a stream of -gossip poured into his ears. He had been in exile for so long, he -must be thirsty for news. A new English Minister had arrived, but -he was said to be unsociable. He had been expected at the races on -the previous Sunday, but had failed to put in an appearance. Armand -had had an affair with Madame Delahaye. At a dinner-party last week, -Rafaele, the Councillor of the Italian Legation, had not been given his -proper place. The Russian Minister, who was the doyen of the _corps -diplomatique_, had promised to look into the matter with the Chef du -Protocole. Once etiquette was allowed to become lax.... The season -had been very gay. Comparatively few political troubles. She disliked -political troubles. She--confidentially--preferred personalities. But -then she was only a woman, and foolish. She knew that she was foolish. -But she had a good heart. She was not clever, like his cousin Eve. - -Eve? A note of hostility and reserve crept into her expansiveness. Eve -was, of course, very charming, though not beautiful. She could not be -called beautiful; her mouth was too large and too red. It was almost -improper to have so red a mouth; not quite _comme il faut_ in so young -a girl. Still, she was undeniably successful. Men liked to be amused, -and Eve, when she was not sulky, could be very amusing. Her imitations -were proverbial in Herakleion. Imitation was, however, an unkindly form -of entertainment. It was perhaps a pity that Eve was so _moqueuse_. -Nothing was sacred to her, not even things which were really beautiful -and touching--patriotism, or moonlight, or art--even Greek art. It was -not that she, Mabel Thyregod, disapproved of wit; she had even some -small reputation for wit herself; no; but she held that there were -certain subjects to which the application of wit was unsuitable. Love, -for instance. Love was the most beautiful, the most sacred thing upon -earth, yet Eve--a child, a chit--had no veneration either for love in -the abstract or for its devotees in the flesh. She wasted the love -that was offered her. She could have no heart, no temperament. She was -perhaps fortunate. She, Mabel Thyregod, had always suffered from having -too warm a temperament. - -A struggle ensued between them, Fru Thyregod trying to force the -personal note, and Julian opposing himself to its intrusion. He liked -her too much to respond to her blatant advances. He wondered, with a -brotherly interest, whether Eve were less crude in her methods. - -The thought of Eve sent him instantly in her pursuit, leaving Fru -Thyregod very much astonished and annoyed in the ball-room. He found -Eve with a man he did not know sitting in her father's business-room. -She was lying back in a chair, listless and absent-minded, while her -companion argued with vehemence and exasperation. She exclaimed,-- - -'Julian again! another surprise appearance! Have you been wearing a cap -of invisibility?' - -Seeing that her companion remained silent in uncertainty, she murmured -an introduction,-- - -'Do you know my cousin Julian? Prince Ardalion Miloradovitch.' - -The Russian bowed with a bad grace, seeing that he must yield his -place to Julian. When he had gone, unwillingly tactful and full of -resentment, she twitted her cousin,-- - -'Implacable as always, when you want your own way! I notice you have -neither outgrown your tyrannical selfishness nor left it behind in -England.' - -'I have never seen that man before; who is he?' - -'A Russian. Not unattractive. I am engaged to him,' she replied -negligently. - -'You are going to marry him?' - -She shrugged. - -'Perhaps, ultimately. More probably not.' - -'And what will he do if you throw him over?' Julian asked with a -certain curiosity. - -'Oh, he has a fine _je-m'en-fichisme_; he'll shrug his shoulders, kiss -the tips of my fingers, and die gambling,' she answered. - -When Eve said that, Julian thought that he saw the whole of -Miloradovitch, whom he did not know, quite clearly; she had lit him up. - -They talked then of a great many things, extraneous to themselves, but -all the while they observed one another narrowly. She found nothing -actually new in him, only an immense development along the old, -careless, impersonal lines. In appearance he was as untidy as ever; -large, slack-limbed, rough-headed. He, however, found much that was new -in her; new, that is, to his more experienced observation, but which, -hitherto, in its latent form had slept undiscovered by his boyish -eyes. His roaming glance took in the deliberate poise and provocative -aloofness of her self-possession, the warm roundness of her throat -and arms, the little _mouche_ at the corner of her mouth, her little -graceful hands, and white skin that here and there, in the shadows, -gleamed faintly gold, as though a veneer of amber had been brushed -over the white; the pervading sensuousness that glowed from her like -the actual warmth of a slumbering fire. He found himself banishing the -thought of Miloradovitch.... - -'Have you changed?' he said abruptly. 'Look at me.' - -She raised her eyes, with the assurance of one well-accustomed to -personal remarks; a slow smile crept over her lips. - -'Well, your verdict?' - -'You are older, and your hair is brushed back.' - -'Is that all?' - -'Do you expect me to say that you are pretty?' - -'Oh, no,' she said, snapping her fingers, 'I never expect compliments -from you, Julian. On the other hand, let me pay you one. Your arrival, -this evening, has been a triumph. Most artistic. Let me congratulate -you. You know of old that I dislike being taken by surprise.' - -'That's why I do it.' - -'I know,' she said, with sudden humility, the marvellous organ of her -voice sinking surprisingly into the rich luxuriance of its most sombre -contralto. - -He noted with a fresh enjoyment the deep tones that broke like a -honeyed caress upon his unaccustomed ear. His imagination bore him -away upon a flight of images that left him startled by their emphasis -no less than by their fantasy. A cloak of black velvet, he thought to -himself, as he continued to gaze unseeingly at her; a dusky voice, -a gipsy among voices! the purple ripeness of a plum; the curve of -a Southern cheek; the heart of red wine. All things seductive and -insinuating. It matched her soft indolence, her exquisite subtlety, her -slow, ironical smile. - -'Your delicious vanity,' he said unexpectedly, and, putting out his -hand he touched the hanging fold of silver net which was bound by a -silver ribbon round one of her slender wrists. - - - - -II - - -Herakleion. The white town. The sun. The precipitate coast, and -Mount Mylassa soaring into the sky. The distant slope of Greece. The -low islands lying out in the jewelled sea. The diplomatic round, -the calculations of gain, the continuous and plaintive music of the -Islands, the dream of rescue, the ardent championship of the feebler -cause, the strife against wealth and authority. The whole fabric of -youth.... These were the things abruptly rediscovered and renewed. - -The elections were to take place within four days of Julian's arrival. -Father Paul, no doubt, could add to the store of information Kato -had already given him. But Father Paul was not to be found in the -little tavern he kept in the untidy village close to the gates of the -Davenants' country house. Julian reined up before it, reading the -familiar name, Xenodochion Olympos, above the door, and calling out -to the men who were playing bowls along the little gravelled bowling -alley to know where he might find the priest. They could not tell him, -nor could the old islander Tsigaridis, who sat near the door, smoking -a cigar, and dribbling between his fingers the beads of a bright green -rosary. - -'The _papá_ is often absent from us,' added Tsigaridis, and Julian -caught the grave inflection of criticism in his tone. - -The somnolent heat of the September afternoon lay over the squalid -dusty village; in the whole length of its street no life stirred; the -dogs slept; the pale pink and blue houses were closely shuttered, -with an effect of flatness and desertion. Against the pink front of -the tavern splashed the shadows of a great fig-tree, and upon its -threshold, but on one side the tree had been cut back to prevent -any shadows from falling across the bowling-alley. Julian rode on, -enervated by the too intense heat and the glare, and, giving up his -horse at his uncle's stables, wandered in the shade under the pergola -of gourds at the bottom of the garden. - -He saw Father Paul coming towards him across the grass between the -lemon-trees; the priest walked slowly, his head bent, his hands clasped -behind his back, a spare black figure among the golden fruit. So lean, -so lank he appeared, his natural height accentuated by his square black -cap; so sallow his bony face in contrast to his stringy red hair. -Julian likened him to a long note of exclamation. He advanced unaware -of Julian's presence, walking as though every shuffling step of his -flat, broad-toed shoes were an accompaniment to some laborious and -completed thought. - -'Perhaps,' Julian reflected, watching him, 'by the time he reaches me -he'll have arrived at his decision.' - -He speculated amusedly as to the priest's difficulties: an insurgent -member of the flock? a necessary repair to the church? Nothing, nothing -outside Herakleion. A tiny life! A priest, a man who had forsworn -man's birthright. The visible in exchange for the invisible world. A -life concentrated and intense; tight-handed, a round little ball of a -life. No range, no freedom. Village life under a microscope; familiar -faces and familiar souls. Julian seemed to focus suddenly the rays of -the whole world into a spot of light which was the village, and over -which the priest's thin face was bent poring with a close, a strained -expression of absorption, so that his benevolent purpose became almost -a force of evil, prying and inquisitive, and from which the souls under -his charge strove to writhe away in vain. To break the image, he called -out aloud,-- - -'You were very deeply immersed in your thoughts, father?' - -'Yes, yes,' Paul muttered. He took out his handkerchief to pass it over -his face, which Julian now saw with surprise was touched into high -lights by a thin perspiration. - -'Is anything wrong?' he asked. - -'Nothing wrong. Your father is very generous,' the priest added -irrelevantly. - -Julian, still under the spell, inquired as to his father's generosity. - -'He has promised me a new iconostase,' said Paul, but he spoke from an -immense distance, vagueness in his eyes, and with a trained, obedient -tongue. 'The old iconostase is in a disgraceful state of dilapidation,' -he continued, with a new, uncanny energy; 'when we cleaned out the -panels we found them hung with bats at the back, and not only bats, -but, do you know, Julian, the mice had nested there; the mice are a -terrible plague in the church. I am obliged to keep the consecrated -bread in a biscuit tin, and I do not like doing that; I like to keep it -covered over with a linen cloth; but no, I cannot, all on account of -the mice. I have set traps, and I had got a cat, but since she caught -her foot in one of the traps she has gone away. I am having great -trouble, great trouble with the mice.' - -'I know,' said Julian, 'I used to have mice in my rooms at Oxford.' - -'A plague!' cried Paul, still fiercely energetic, but utterly remote. -'One would wonder, if one were permitted to wonder, why He saw fit -to create mice. I never caught any in my traps; only the cat's foot. -And the boy who cleans the church ate the cheese. I have been very -unfortunate--very unfortunate with the mice,' he added. - -Would they never succeed in getting away from the topic? The garden -was populated with mice, quick little gray objects darting across the -path. And Paul, who continued to talk vehemently, with strange, abrupt -gestures, was not really there at all. - -'Nearly two years since you have been away,' he was saying. 'I expect -you have seen a great deal; forgotten all about Paul? How do you find -your father? Many people have died in the village; that was to be -expected. I have been kept busy, funerals and christenings. I like a -full life. And then I have the constant preoccupation of the church; -the church, yes. I have been terribly concerned about the iconostase. -I have blamed myself bitterly for my negligence. That, of course, was -all due to the mice. A man was drowned off these rocks last week; a -stranger. They say he had been losing in the casino. I have been into -Herakleion once or twice, since you have been away. But it is too -noisy. The trams, and the glare.... It would not seem noisy to you. -You no doubt welcome the music of the world. You are young, and life -for you contains no problems. But I am very happy; I should not like -you to think I was not perfectly happy. Your father and your uncle are -peculiarly considerate and generous men. Your uncle has promised to -pay for the installation of the new iconostase and the removal of the -old one. I forgot to tell you that. Completely perished, some of the -panels.... And your aunt, a wonderful woman.' - -Julian listened in amazement. The priest talked like a wound-up and -crazy machine, and all the while Julian was convinced that he did not -know a word he was saying. He had once been grave, earnest, scholarly, -even wise.... He kept taking off and putting on his cap, to the wild -disordering of his long hair. - -'He's gone mad,' Julian thought in dismay. - -Julian despaired of struggling out of the quicksands that sucked at -their feet. He thought desperately that if the priest would come back, -would recall his spirit to take control of his wits, all might be well. -The tongue was babbling in an empty body while the spirit journeyed -in unknown fields, finding there what excruciating torment? Who could -tell! For the man was suffering, that was clear; he had been suffering -as he walked across the grass, but he had suffered then in controlled -silence, spirit and mind close-locked and allied in the taut effort -of endurance; now, their alliance shattered by the sound of a human -voice, the spirit had fled, sweeping with it the furies of agony, and -leaving the mind bereaved, chattering emptily, noisily, in the attempt -at concealment. He, Julian, was responsible for this revelation of the -existence of an unguessed secret. He must repair the damage he had done. - -'Father!' he said, interrupting, and he took the priest strongly by the -wrist. - -Their eyes met. - -'Father!' Julian said again. He held the wrist with the tensest effort -of his fingers, and the eyes with the tensest effort of his will. He -saw the accentuated cavities of the priest's thin face, and the pinched -lines of suffering at the corners of the mouth. Paul had been strong, -energetic, masculine. Now his speech was random, and he quavered as -a palsied old man. Even his personal cleanliness had, in a measure, -deserted him; his soutane was stained, his hair lank and greasy. He -confronted Julian with a scared and piteous cowardice, compelled, yet -seeking escape, then as he slowly steadied himself under Julian's grip -the succeeding emotions were reflected in his eyes: first shame; then -a horrified grasping after his self-respect; finally, most touching of -all, confidence and gratitude; and Julian, seeing the cycle completed -and knowing that Paul was again master of himself, released the wrist -and asked, in the most casual voice at his command, 'All right?' He -had the sensation of having saved some one from falling. - -Paul nodded without speaking. Then he began to ask Julian as to how -he had employed the last eighteen months, and they talked for some -time without reference to the unaccountable scene that had passed -between them. Paul talked with his wonted gentleness and interest, the -strangeness of his manner entirely vanished; Julian could have believed -it a hallucination, but for the single trace left in the priest's -disordered hair. Red strands hung abjectly down his back. Julian found -his eyes drawn towards them in a horrible fascination, but, because he -knew the scene must be buried unless Paul himself chose to revive it, -he kept his glance turned away with conscious deliberation. - -He was relieved when the priest left him. - -'Gone to do his hair'--the phrase came to his mind as he saw the priest -walk briskly away, tripping with the old familiar stumble over his -soutane, and saw the long wisps faintly red on the black garment. 'Like -a woman--exactly!' he uttered in revolt, clenching his hand at man's -degradation. 'Like a woman, long hair, long skirt; ready to listen to -other people's troubles. Unnatural existence; unnatural? it's unnatural -to the point of viciousness. No wonder the man's mind is unhinged.' - -He was really troubled about his friend, the more so that loyalty would -keep him silent and allow him to ask no questions. He thought, however, -that if Eve volunteered any remarks about Paul it would not be disloyal -to listen. The afternoon was hot and still; Eve would be indoors. The -traditions of his English life still clung to him sufficiently to make -him chafe vaguely against the idleness of the days; he resented the -concession to the climate. A demoralising place. A place where priests -let their hair grow long, and went temporarily mad.... - -He walked in the patchy shade of the lemon-trees towards the house in a -distressed and irascible frame of mind. He longed for action; his mind -was never content to dwell long unoccupied. He longed for the strife -the elections would bring. The house glared very white, and all the -green shutters were closed; behind them, he knew, the windows would be -closed too. Another contradiction. In England, when one wanted to keep -a house cool, one opened the windows wide. - -He crossed the veranda; the drawing-room was dim and empty. How absurd -to paint sham flames on the ceiling in a climate where the last thing -one wanted to remember was fire. He called,-- - -'Eve!' - -Silence answered him. A book lying on the floor by the writing-table -showed him that she had been in the room; no one else in that house -would read Albert Samain. He picked it up and read disgustedly,-- - - - '... Des roses! des roses encore! - Je les adore à la souffrance. - Elles ont la sombre attirance - Des choses qui donnent la mort.' - - -'Nauseating!' he cried, flinging the book from him. - -Certainly the book was Eve's. Certainly she had been in the room, -for no one else would or could have drawn that mask of a faun on the -blotting paper. He looked at it carelessly, then with admiration; what -malicious humour she had put into those squinting eyes, that slanting -mouth! He turned the blotting paper idly--how like Eve to draw on the -blotting paper!--and came on other drawings: a demon, a fantastic -castle, a half-obliterated sketch of himself. Once he found his name, -in elaborate architectural lettering, repeated all over the page. -Then he found a letter of which the three first words: 'Eternal, -exasperating Eve!' and the last sentence, ' ... votre réveil qui doit -être charmant dans le désordre fantaisiste de votre chambre,' made him -shut the blotter in a scurry of discretion. - -Here were all the vivid traces of her passage, but where was she? -Loneliness and the lack of occupation oppressed him. He lounged away -from the writing-table, out into the wide passage which ran all round -the central court. He paused there, his hands in his pockets, and -called again,-- - -'Eve!' - -'Eve!' the echoing passage answered startlingly. - -Presently another more tangible voice came to him as he stood staring -disconsolately through the windows into the court. - -'Were you calling Mith Eve, Mathter Julian? The'th rethting. Thall I -tell her?' - -He was pleased to see Nana, fat, stayless, slipshod, slovenly, -benevolent. He kissed her, and told her she was fatter than ever. - -'Glad I've come back, Nannie?' - -'Why, yeth, thurely, Mathter Julian.' - -Nana's demonstrations were always restrained, respectful. She -habitually boasted that although life in the easy South might have -induced her to relax her severity towards her figure, she had never -allowed it to impair her manners. - -'Can I go up to Eve's room, Nannie?' - -'I thuppoth tho, my dear.' - -'Nannie, you know, you ought to be an old negress.' - -'Why, dear Lord! me black?' - -'Yes; you'd be ever so much more suitable.' - -He ran off to Eve's room upstairs, laughing, boyish again after his -boredom and irritability. He had been in Eve's room many times before, -but with his fingers on the door handle he paused. Again that strange -vexation at her years had seized him. - -He knocked. - -Inside, the room was very dim; the furniture bulked large in the -shadows. Scent, dusk, luxury lapped round him like warm water. He had -an impression of soft, scattered garments, deep mirrors, chosen books, -and many little bottles. Suddenly he was appalled by the insolence -of his own intrusion--an unbeliever bursting into a shrine. He stood -silent by the door. He heard a drowsy voice singing in a murmur an -absurd childish rhyme,-- - - - 'Il était noir comme un corbeau, - Ali, Ali, Ali, Alo, - Macachebono, - La Roustah, la Mougah, la Roustah, la Mougah, - Allah! - - 'Il était de bonne famille, - Sa mère élevait des chameaux, - Macachebono....' - - -He discerned the bed, the filmy veils of the muslin mosquito curtains, -falling apart from a baldaquin. The lazy voice, after a moment of -silence, queried,-- - -'Nana?' - -It was with an effort that he brought himself to utter,-- - -'No; Julian.' - -With an upheaval of sheets he heard her sit upright in bed, and her -exclamation,-- - -'Who said you might come in here?' - -At that he laughed, quite naturally. - -'Why not? I was bored. May I come and talk to you?' - -He came round the corner of the screen and saw her sitting up, her hair -tumbled and dark, her face indistinct, her shoulders emerging white -from a foam of lace. - -He sat down on the edge of her bed, the details of the room emerging -slowly from the darkness; and she herself becoming more distinct as she -watched him, her shadowy eyes half sarcastic, half resentful. - -'Sybarite!' he said. - -She only smiled in answer, and put out one hand towards him. It fell -listlessly on to the sheets as though she had no energy to hold it up. - -'You child,' he said, 'you make me feel coarse and vulgar beside you. -Here am I, burning for battle, and there you lie, wasting time, wasting -youth, half-asleep, luxurious, and quite unrepentant.' - -'Surely even you must find it too hot for battle?' - -'I don't find it too hot to wish that it weren't too hot. You, on the -other hand, abandon yourself contentedly; you are pleased that it is -too hot for you to do anything but glide voluptuously into a siesta in -the middle of the day.' - -'You haven't been here long, remember, Julian; you're still brisk from -England. Only wait; Herakleion will overcome you.' - -'Don't!' he cried out startlingly. 'Don't say it! It's prophetic. I -shall struggle against it; I shall be the stronger.' - -She only laughed murmurously into her pillows, but he was really -stirred; he stood up and walked about the room, launching spasmodic -phrases. - -'You and Herakleion, you are all of a piece.--You shan't drag me -down.--Not if I am to live here.--I know one loses one's sense of -values here. I learnt that when I last went away to England. I've come -back on my guard.--I'm determined to remain level-headed.--I refuse to -be impressed by fantastic happenings.... - -'Why do you stop so abruptly?' Did her voice mock him? - -He had stopped, remembering Paul. Already he had blundered against -something he did not understand. An impulse came to him to confide in -Eve; Eve lying there, quietly smiling with unexpressed but unmistakable -irony; Eve so certain that, sooner or later, Herakleion would conquer -him. He would confide in her. And then, as he hesitated, he knew -suddenly that Eve was not trustworthy. - -He began again walking about the room, betraying by no word that a -moment of revelation, important and dramatic, had come and passed on -the tick of a clock. Yet he knew he had crossed a line over which he -could now never retrace his steps. He would never again regard Eve -in quite the same light. He absorbed the alteration with remarkable -rapidity into his conception of her. He supposed that the knowledge of -her untrustworthiness had always lain dormant in him waiting for the -test which should some day call it out; that was why he was so little -impressed by what he had mistaken for new knowledge. - -'Julian, sit down; how restless you are. And you look so enormous in -this room, you frighten me.' - -He sat down, closer to her than he had sat before, and began playing -with her fingers. - -'How soft your hand is. It is quite boneless,' he said, crushing it -together; 'it's like a little pigeon. So you think Herakleion will beat -me? I dare say you are right. Shall I tell you something? When I was on -my way here, from England, I determined that I would allow myself to be -beaten. I don't know why I had that moment of revolt just now. Because -I am quite determined to let myself drift with the current, whether it -carry me towards adventures or towards lotus-land.' - -'Perhaps towards both.' - -'Isn't that too much to hope?' - -'Why? They are compatible. C'est le sort de la jeunesse.' - -'Prophesy adventures for me!' - -'My dear Julian! I'm far too lazy.' - -'Lotus-land, then?' - -'This room isn't a bad substitute,' she proffered. - -He wondered then at the exact extent of her meaning. He was accustomed -to the amazing emotional scenes she had periodically created between -them in childhood--scenes which he never afterwards could rehearse to -himself; scenes whose fabric he never could dissect, because it was -more fantastic, more unreal, than gossamer; scenes in which storm, -anger, and heroics had figured; scenes from which he had emerged -worried, shattered, usually with the ardent impress of her lips on his, -and brimming with self-reproach. A calm existence was not for her; she -would neither understand nor tolerate it. - -The door opened, and old Nana came shuffling in. - -'Mith Eve, pleath, there'th a gentleman downstairth to thee you. -Here'th hith card.' - -Julian took it. - -'Eve, it's Malteios.' - -That drowsy voice, indifferent and melodious,-- - -'Tell him to go away, Nana; tell him I am resting.' - -'But, dearie, what'll your mother thay?' - -'Tell him to go away, Nana.' - -'He'th the Prime Minithter,' Nana began doubtfully. - -'Eve!' Julian said in indignation. - -'But, Mith Eve, you know he came latht week and you forgot he wath -coming and you wath out.' - -'Is that so, Eve? Is he here by appointment with you to-day?' - -'No.' - -'I shall go down to him and find out whether you are speaking the -truth.' - -He went downstairs, ignoring Eve's voice that called him back. The -Premier was in the drawing-room, examining the insignificant ornaments -on the table. Their last meeting had been a memorable one, in the -painted room overlooking the _platia_. - -When their greetings were over, Julian said,-- - -'I believe you were asking for my cousin, sir?' - -'That is so. She promised me,' said the Premier, a sly look coming over -his face, 'that she would give me tea to-day. Shall I have the pleasure -of seeing her?' - -'What,' thought Julian, 'does this old scapegrace politician, who must -have his mind and his days full of the coming elections, want with Eve? -and want so badly that he can perform the feat of coming out here from -Herakleion in the heat of the afternoon?' - -Aloud he said, grimly because of the lie she had told him,-- - -'She will be with you in a few moments, sir.' - -In Eve's dark room, where Nana still stood fatly and hopelessly -expostulating, and Eve pretended to sleep, he spoke roughly,-- - -'You lied to me as usual. He is here by appointment. He is waiting. I -told him you would not keep him waiting long. You must get up.' - -'I shall do nothing of the sort. What right have you to dictate to me?' - -'You're making Mathter Julian croth--and he tho thweet-tempered -alwayth,' said Nana's warning voice. - -'Does she usually behave like this, Nana?' - -'Oh, Mathter Julian, it'th dreadful--and me alwayth thaving her from -her mother, too. And loothing all her thingth, too, all the time. I -can't keep anything in it'th plathe. Only three dayth ago the lotht a -diamond ring, but the never cared. The Thpanith gentleman thent it to -her, and the never thanked him, and then lotht the ring. And the never -notithed or cared. And the getth dretheth and dretheth, and won't put -them on twith. And flowerth and chocolathes thent her--they all thpoil -her tho--and the biteth all the chocolathes in two to thee what'th -inthide, and throwth them away and thayth the dothn't like them. That -exathperating, the ith.' - -'Leave her to me, Nannie.' - -'Mith Naughtineth,' said Nana, as she left the room. - -They were alone. - -'Eve, I am really angry. That old man!' - -She turned luxuriously on to her back, her arms flung wide, and lay -looking at him. - -'You are very anxious that I should go to him. You are not very jealous -of me, are you, Julian?' - -'Why does he come?' he asked curiously. 'You never told me....' - -'There are a great many things I never tell you, my dear.' - -'It is not my business and I am not interested,' he answered, 'but -he has come a long way in the heat to see you, and I dislike your -callousness. I insist upon your getting up.' - -She smiled provokingly. He dropped on his knees near her. - -'Darling, to please me?' - -She gave a laugh of sudden disdain. - -'Fool! I might have obeyed you; now you have thrown away your -advantage.' - -'Have I?' he said, and, slipping his arm beneath her, he lifted her up -bodily. 'Where shall I put you down?' he asked, standing in the middle -of the room and holding her. 'At your dressing-table?' - -'Why don't you steal me, Julian?' she murmured, settling herself more -comfortably in his grasp. - -'Steal you? what on earth do you mean? explain!' he said. - -'Oh, I don't know; if you don't understand, it doesn't matter,' she -replied with some impatience, but beneath her impatience he saw that -she was shaken, and, flinging one arm round his neck, she pulled -herself up and kissed him on the mouth. He struggled away, displeased, -brotherly, and feeling the indecency of that kiss in that darkened -room, given by one whose thinly-clad, supple body he had been holding -as he might hold a child's. - -'You have a genius for making me angry, Eve.' - -He stopped: she had relaxed suddenly, limp and white in his arms; with -a long sigh she let her head fall back, her eyes closed. The warmth -of her limbs reached him through the diaphanous garment she wore. He -thought he had never before seen such abandonment of expression and -attitude; his displeasure deepened, and an uncomplimentary word rose to -his lips. - -'I don't wonder....' flashed through his mind. - -He was shocked, as a brother might be at the betrayal of his sister's -sexuality. - -'Eve!' he said sharply. - -She opened her eyes, met his, and came to herself. - -'Put me down!' she cried, and as he set her on her feet, she snatched -at her Spanish shawl and wrapped it round her. 'Oh!' she said, an -altered being, shamed and outraged, burying her face, 'go now, -Julian--go, go, go.' - -He went, shaking his head in perplexity: there were too many things -in Herakleion he failed to understand. Paul, Eve, Malteios. This -afternoon with Eve, which should have been natural, had been difficult. -Moments of illumination were also moments of a profounder obscurity. -And why should Malteios return to-day, when in the preceding week, -according to Nana, he had been so casually forgotten? Why so patient, -so long-suffering, with Eve? Was it possible that he should be -attracted by Eve? It seemed to Julian, accustomed still to regard her -as a child, very improbable. Malteios! The Premier! And the elections -beginning within four days--that he should spare the time! Rumour said -that the elections would go badly for him; that the Stavridists would -be returned. A bad look-out for the Islands if they were. Rumour said -that Stavridis was neglecting no means, no means whatsoever, by which -he might strengthen his cause. He was more unscrupulous, younger, -more vigorous, than Malteios. The years of dispossession had added -to his determination and energy. Malteios had seriously prejudiced -his popularity by his liaison with Kato, a woman, as the people of -Herakleion never forgot, of the Islands, and an avowed champion of -their cause. Was it possible that Eve was mixed up in Malteios' -political schemes? Julian laughed aloud at the idea of Eve interesting -herself in politics. But perhaps Kato herself, for whom Eve entertained -one of her strongest and most enduring enthusiasms, had taken advantage -of their friendship to interest Eve in Malteios' affairs? Anything was -possible in that preposterous state. Eve, he knew, would mischievously -and ignorantly espouse any form of intrigue. If Malteios came with any -other motive he was an old satyr--nothing more. - -Julian's mind strayed again to the elections. The return of the -Stavridis party would mean certain disturbances in the Islands. -Disturbances would mean an instant appeal for leadership. He would be -reminded of the day he had spent, the only day of his life, he thought, -on which he had truly lived, on Aphros. Tsigaridis would come, grave, -insistent, to hold him to his undertakings, a figure of comedy in his -absurdly picturesque clothes, but also a figure full of dignity with -his unanswerable claim. He would bring forward a species of moral -blackmail, to which Julian, ripe for adventure and sensitive to his -obligations, would surely surrender. After that there would be no -drawing back.... - -'I have little hope of victory,' said Malteios, to whom Julian, in -search of information, had recourse; and hinted with infinite suavity -and euphemism, that the question of election in Herakleion depended -largely, if not entirely, on the condition and judicious distribution -of the party funds. Stavridis, it appeared, had controlled larger -subscriptions, more trustworthy guarantees. The Christopoulos, the -largest bankers, were unreliable. Alexander had political ambitions. -An under-secretaryship.... Christopoulos _père_ had subscribed, it -was true, to the Malteios party, but while his right hand produced -the miserable sum from his right pocket, who could tell with what -generosity his left hand ladled out the drachmæ into the gaping -Stavridis coffers? Safe in either eventuality. Malteios knew his game. - -The Premier enlarged blandly upon the situation, regretful, but without -indignation. As a man of the world, he accepted its ways as Herakleion -knew them. Julian noted his gentle shrugs, his unfinished sentences -and innuendoes. It occurred to him that the Premier's frankness and -readiness to enlarge upon political technique were not without motive. -Buttoned into his high frock-coat, which the climate of Herakleion -was unable to abolish, he walked softly up and down the parquet floor -between the lapis columns, his fingers loosely interlaced behind his -back, talking to Julian. In another four days he might no longer be -Premier, might be merely a private individual, unostentatiously working -a dozen strands of intrigue. The boy was not to be neglected as a tool. -He tried him on what he conceived to be his tenderest point. - -'I have not been unfavourable to your islanders during my -administration,'--then, thinking the method perhaps a trifle crude, -he added, 'I have even exposed myself to the attack of my opponents on -that score; they have made capital out of my clemency. Had I been a -less disinterested man, I should have had greater foresight. I should -have sacrificed my sense of justice to the demands of my future.' - -He gave a deprecatory and melancholy smile. - -'Do I regret the course I chose? Not for an instant. The responsibility -of a statesman is not solely towards himself or his adherents. He -must set it sternly aside in favour of the poor, ignorant destinies -committed to his care. I lay down my office with an unburdened -conscience.' - -He stopped in his walk and stood before Julian, who, with his hands -thrust in his pockets, had listened to the discourse from the depths of -his habitual arm-chair. - -'But you, young man, are not in my position. The door I seek is marked -Exit; the door you seek, Entrance. I think I may, without presumption, -as an old and finished man, offer you a word of prophecy.' He unlaced -his fingers and pointed one of them at Julian. 'You may live to be the -saviour of an oppressed people, a not unworthy mission. Remember that -my present opponents, should they come to power, will not sympathise -with your efforts, as I myself--who knows?--might have sympathised.' - -Julian, acknowledging the warning, thought he recognised the style of -the Senate Chamber, but failed to recognise the sentiments he had heard -expressed by the Premier on a former occasion, on this same subject of -his interference in the affairs of the Islands. He ventured to suggest -as much. The Premier's smile broadened, his deprecatory manner deepened. - -'Ah, you were younger then; hot-headed; I did not know how far I could -trust you. Your intentions, excellent; but your judgment perhaps a -little precipitate? Since then, you have seen the world; you are a -man. You have returned, no doubt, ready to pick up the weapon you -tentatively fingered as a boy. You will no longer be blinded by -sentiment, you will weigh your actions nicely in the balance. And you -will remember the goodwill of Platon Malteios?' - -He resumed his soft walk up and down the room. - -'Within a few weeks you may find yourself in the heart of strife. I see -you as a young athlete on the threshold, doubtless as generous as most -young men, as ambitious, as eager. Discard the divine foolishness of -allowing ideas, not facts, to govern your heart. We live in Herakleion, -not in Utopia. We have all shed, little by little, our illusions....' - -After a sigh, the depth of whose genuineness neither he nor Julian -could accurately diagnose, he continued, brightening as he returned to -the practical,-- - -'Stavridis--a harsher man than I. He and your islanders would come to -grips within a month. I should scarcely deplore it. A question based -on the struggle of nationality--for, it cannot be denied, the Italian -blood of your islanders severs them irremediably from the true Greek of -Herakleion--such questions cry for decisive settlement even at the cost -of a little bloodletting. Submission or liberty, once and for all. That -is preferable to the present irritable shilly-shally.' - -'I know the alternative I should choose,' said Julian. - -'Liberty?--the lure of the young,' said Malteios, not unkindly. 'I -said that I should scarcely deplore such an attempt, for it would -fail; Herakleion could never tolerate for long the independence of the -Islands. Yes, it would surely fail. But from it good might emerge. -A friendlier settlement, a better understanding, a more cheerful -submission. Believe me,' he added, seeing the cloud of obstinate -disagreement upon Julian's face, 'never break your heart over the -failure. Your Islands would have learnt the lesson of the inevitable; -and the great inevitable is perhaps the least intolerable of all human -sorrows. There is, after all, a certain kindliness in the fate which -lays the obligation of sheer necessity upon our courage.' - -For a moment his usual manner had left him; he recalled it with a short -laugh. - -'Perhaps the thought that my long years of office may be nearly at an -end betrays me into this undue melancholy,' he said flippantly; 'pay no -attention, young man. Indeed, whatever I may say, I know that you will -cling to your idea of revolt. Am I not right?' - -Once more the keen, sly look was in his eyes, and Julian knew that -only the Malteios who desired the rupture of the Islands with his own -political adversary, remained. He felt, in a way, comforted to be -again upon the familiar ground; his conception of the man had been -momentarily disarranged. - -'Your Excellency is very shrewd,' he replied, politely and evasively. - -Malteios shrugged and smiled the smile that had such real charm; and -as he shrugged and smiled the discussion away into the region of such -things dismissed, his glance travelled beyond Julian to the door, his -mouth curved into a more goatish smile amidst his beard, and his eyes -narrowed into two slits till his whole face resembled the mask of the -old faun that Eve had drawn on the blotting paper. - -'Mademoiselle!' he murmured, advancing towards Eve, who, dressed in -white, appeared between the lapis-lazuli columns. - - - - -III - - -Madame Lafarge gave a picnic which preceded the day of the elections, -and to Julian Davenant it seemed that he was entering a cool, dark -cavern roofed over with mysterious greenery after riding in the heat -across a glaring plain. The transition from the white Herakleion to -the deep valley, shut in by steep, terraced hills covered with olives, -ilexes, and myrtles--a valley profound, haunted, silent, hallowed by -pools of black-green shadow--consciousness of the transition stole over -him soothingly, as his pony picked its way down the stony path of the -hill-side. He had refused to accompany the others. Early in the morning -he had ridden over the hills, so early that he had watched the sunrise, -and had counted, from a summit, the houses on Aphros in the glassy -limpidity of the Grecian dawn. The morning had been pure as the treble -notes of a violin, the sea below bright as a pavement of diamonds. The -Islands lay, clear and low, delicately yellow, rose, and lilac, in the -serene immensity of the dazzling waters. They seemed to him to contain -every element of enchantment; cleanly of line as cameos, yet intangible -as a mirage, rising lovely and gracious as Aphrodite from the white -flashes of their foam, fairy islands of beauty and illusion in a sea of -radiant and eternal youth. - -A stream ran through the valley, and near the banks of the stream, in -front of a clump of ilexes, gleamed the marble columns of a tiny ruined -temple. Julian turned his pony loose to graze, throwing himself down -at full length beside the stream and idly pulling at the orchids and -magenta cyclamen which grew in profusion. Towards midday his solitude -was interrupted. A procession of victorias accompanied by men on -horseback began to wind down the steep road into the valley; from -afar he watched them coming, conscious of distaste and boredom, then -remembering that Eve was of the party, and smiling to himself a little -in relief. She would come, at first silent, unobtrusive, almost sulky; -then little by little the spell of their intimacy would steal over him, -and by a word or a glance they would be linked, the whole system of -their relationship developing itself anew, a system elaborated by her, -as he well knew; built up of personal, whimsical jokes; stimulating, -inventive, she had to a supreme extent the gift of creating such a web, -subtly, by meaning more than she said and saying less than she meant; -giving infinite promise, but ever postponing fulfilment. - -'A flirt?' he wondered to himself, lazily watching the string of -carriages in one of which she was. - -But she was more elemental, more dangerous, than a mere flirt. On that -account, and because of her wide and penetrative intelligence, he could -not relegate her to the common category. Yet he thought he might safely -make the assertion that no man in Herakleion had altogether escaped -her attraction. He thought he might apply this generalisation from -M. Lafarge, or Malteios, or Don Rodrigo Valdez, down to the chasseur -who picked up her handkerchief. (Her handkerchief! ah, yes! she could -always be traced, as in a paper-chase, by her scattered possessions--a -handkerchief, a glove, a cigarette-case, a gardenia, a purse full -of money, a powder-puff--frivolities doubly delightful and doubly -irritating in a being so terrifyingly elemental, so unassailably and -sarcastically intelligent.) Eve, the child he had known unaccountable, -passionate, embarrassing, who had written him the precocious letters on -every topic in a variety of tongues, imaginative exceedingly, copiously -illustrated, bursting occasionally into erratic and illegible -verse; Eve, with her desperate and excessive passions; Eve, grown to -womanhood, grown into a firebrand! He had been entertained, but at -the same time slightly offended, to find her grown; his conception of -her was disarranged; he had felt almost a sense of outrage in seeing -her heavy hair piled upon her head; he had looked curiously at the -uncovered nape of her neck, the hair brushed upwards and slightly -curling, where once it had hung thick and plaited; he had noted with an -irritable shame the softness of her throat in the evening dress she had -worn when first he had seen her. He banished violently the recollection -of her in that brief moment when in his anger he had lifted her out of -her bed and had carried her across the room in his arms. He banished it -with a shudder and a revulsion, as he might have banished a suggestion -of incest. - -Springing to his feet, he went forward to meet the carriages; the -shadowed valley was flicked by the bright uniforms of the chasseurs -on the boxes and the summer dresses of the women in the victorias; -the laughter of the Danish Excellency already reached his ears above -the hum of talk and the sliding hoofs of the horses as they advanced -cautiously down the hill, straining back against their harness, and -bringing with them at every step a little shower of stones from the -rough surface of the road. The younger men, Greeks, and secretaries of -legations, rode by the side of the carriages. The Danish Excellency -was the first to alight, fat and babbling in a pink muslin dress with -innumerable flounces; Julian turned aside to hide his smile. Madame -Lafarge descended with her customary weightiness, beaming without -benevolence but with a tyrannical proprietorship over all her guests. -She graciously accorded her hand to Julian. The chasseurs were already -busy with wicker baskets. - -'The return to Nature,' Alexander Christopoulos whispered to Eve. - -Julian observed that Eve looked bored and sulky; she detested large -assemblies, unless she could hold their entire attention, preferring -the more intimate scope of the _tête-à-tête_. Amongst the largest -gathering she usually contrived to isolate herself and one other, with -whom she conversed in whispers. Presently, he knew, she would be made -to recite, or to tell anecdotes, involving imitation, and this she -would perform, at first languidly, but warming with applause, and would -end by dancing--he knew her programme! He rarely spoke to her, or she -to him, in public. She would appear to ignore him, devoting herself to -Don Rodrigo, or to Alexander, or, most probably, to the avowed admirer -of some other woman. He had frequently brought his direct and masculine -arguments to bear against this practice. She listened without replying, -as though she did not understand. - -Fru Thyregod was more than usually sprightly. - -'Now, Armand, you lazy fellow, bring me my camera; this day has to be -immortalised; I must have pictures of all you beautiful young men for -my friends in Denmark. Fauns in a Grecian grave! Let me peep whether -any of you have cloven feet.' - -Madame Lafarge put up her lorgnon, and said to the Italian Minister in -a not very low voice,-- - -'I am so fond of dear Fru Thyregod, but she is terribly vulgar at -times.' - -There was a great deal of laughter over Fru Thyregod's sally, and some -of the young men pretended to hide their feet beneath napkins. - -'Eve and Julie, you must be the nymphs,' the Danish Excellency went on. - -Eve took no notice; Julie looked shy, and the sisters Christopoulos -angry at not being included. - -'Now we must all help to unpack; that is half the fun of the picnic,' -said Madame Lafarge, in a business-like tone. - -Under the glare of her lorgnon Armand and Madame Delahaye attacked -one basket; they nudged and whispered to one another, and their -fingers became entangled under the cover of the paper wrappings. Eve -strolled away, Valdez followed her. The Persian Minister who had come -unobtrusively, after the manner of a humble dog, stood gently smiling -in the background. Julie Lafarge never took her adoring eyes off Eve. -The immense Grbits had drawn Julian on one side, and was talking to -him, shooting out his jaw and hitting Julian on the chest for emphasis. -Fru Thyregod, with many whispers, collected a little group to whom she -pointed them out, and photographed them. - -'Really,' said the Danish Minister peevishly, to Condesa Valdez, 'my -wife is the most foolish woman I know.' - -During the picnic every one was very gay, with the exception of Julian, -who regretted having come, and of Miloradovitch, of whom Eve was -taking no notice at all. Madame Lafarge was especially pleased with -the success of her expedition. She enjoyed the intimacy that existed -amongst all her guests, and said as much in an aside to the Roumanian -Minister. - -'You know, _chère Excellence_, I have known most of these dear friends -so long; we have spent happy years together in different capitals; that -is the best of diplomacy: _ce qu'il y a de beau dans la carrière c'est -qu'on se retrouve toujours_.' - -'It is not unlike a large family, one may say,' replied the Roumanian. - -'How well you phrase it!' exclaimed Madame Lafarge. 'Listen, everybody: -His Excellency has made a real _mot d'esprit_, he says diplomacy is -like a large family.' - -Eve and Julian looked up, and their eyes met. - -'You are not eating anything, Ardalion Semeonovitch,' said Armand (he -had once spent two months in Russia) to Miloradovitch, holding out a -plate of sandwiches. - -'No, nor do I want anything,' said Miloradovitch rudely, and he got up, -and walked away by himself. - -'Dear me! _ces Russes!_ what manners!' said Madame Lafarge, pretending -to be amused; and everybody looked facetiously at Eve. - -'I remember once, when I was in Russia, at the time that Stolypin -was Prime Minister,' Don Rodrigo began, 'there was a serious scandal -about one of the Empress's ladies-in-waiting and a son of old Princess -Golucheff--you remember old Princess Golucheff, Excellency? she was a -Bariatinsky, a very handsome woman, and Serge Radziwill killed himself -on her account--he was a Pole, one of the Kieff Radziwills, whose -mother was commonly supposed to be _au mieux_ with Stolypin (though -Stolypin was not at all that kind of man; he was _très province_), -and most people thought that was the reason why Serge occupied such a -series of the highest Court appointments, in spite of being a Pole--the -Poles were particularly unpopular just then; I even remember that -Stanislas Aveniev, in spite of having a Russian mother--she was an -Orloff, and her jewels were proverbial even in Petersburg--they had -all been given her by the Grand Duke Boris--Stanislas Aveniev was -obliged to resign his commission in the Czar's guard. However, Casimir -Golucheff....' but everybody had forgotten the beginning of his story -and only Madame Lafarge was left politely listening. - -Julian overheard Eve reproducing, in an undertone to Armand, the style -and manner of Don Rodrigo's conversation. He also became aware that, -between her sallies, Fru Thyregod was bent upon retaining his attention -for herself. - -He was disgusted with all this paraphernalia of social construction, -and longed ardently for liberty on Aphros. He wondered whether Eve -were truly satisfied, or whether she played the part merely with the -humorous gusto of an artist, caught up in his own game; he wondered to -what extent her mystery was due to her life's pretence? - -Later, he found himself drifting apart with the Danish Excellency; -he drifted, that is, beside her, tall, slack of limb, absent of -mind, while she tripped with apparent heedlessness, but with actual -determination of purpose. As she tripped she chattered. Fair and silly, -she demanded gallantry of men, and gallantry of a kind--perfunctory, -faintly pitying, apologetic--she was accorded. She had enticed Julian -away, with a certain degree of skill, and was glad. Eve had scowled -blackly, in the one swift glance she had thrown them. - -'Your cousin enchants Don Rodrigo, it is clear,' Fru Thyregod said with -malice as they strolled. - -Julian turned to look back. He saw Eve sitting with the Spanish -Minister on the steps of the little temple. In front of the temple, the -ruins of the picnic stained the valley with bright frivolity; bits of -white paper fluttered, tablecloths remained spread on the ground, and -laughter echoed from the groups that still lingered hilariously; the -light dresses of the women were gay, and their parasols floated above -them like coloured bubbles against the darkness of the ilexes. - -'What desecration of the Dryads' grove,' said Fru Thyregod, 'let us put -it out of sight,' and she gave a little run forward, and then glanced -over her shoulder to see if Julian were following her. - -He came, unsmiling and leisurely. As soon as they were hidden from -sight among the olives, she began to talk to him about himself, walking -slowly, looking up at him now and then, and prodding meditatively with -the tip of her parasol at the stones upon the ground. He was, she said, -so free. He had his life before him. And she talked about herself, of -the shackles of her sex, the practical difficulties of her life, her -poverty, her effort to hide beneath a gay exterior a heart that was not -gay. - -'Carl,' she said, alluding to her husband, 'has indeed charge of the -affairs of Norway and Sweden also in Herakleion, but Herakleion is so -tiny, he is paid as though he were a Consul.' - -Julian listened, dissecting the true from the untrue; although he -knew her gaiety was no effort, but merely the child of her innate -foolishness, he also knew that her poverty was a source of real -difficulties to her, and he felt towards her a warm, though a bored -and slightly contemptuous, friendliness. He listened to her babble, -thinking more of the stream by which they walked, and of the little -magenta cyclamen that grew in the shady, marshy places on its banks. - -Fru Thyregod was speaking of Eve, a topic round which she perpetually -hovered in an uncertainty of fascination and resentment. - -'Do you approve of her very intimate friendship with that singer, -Madame Kato?' - -'I am very fond of Madame Kato myself, Fru Thyregod.' - -'Ah, you are a man. But for Eve ... a girl.... After all, what is -Madame Kato but a common woman, a woman of the people, and the mistress -of Malteios into the bargain?' - -Fru Thyregod was unwontedly serious. Julian had not yet realised to -what extent Alexander Christopoulos had transferred his attentions to -Eve. - -'You know I am an unconventional woman; every one who knows me even -a little can see that I am unconventional. But when I see a child, a -nice child, like your cousin Eve, associated with a person like Kato, I -think to myself, "Mabel, that is unbecoming."' - -She repeated,-- - -'And yet I have been told that I was too unconventional. Yes, Carl has -often reproached me, and my friends too. They say, "Mabel, you are too -soft-hearted, and you are too unconventional." What do you think?' - -Julian ignored the personal. He said,-- - -'I should not describe Eve as a "nice child."' - -'No? Well, perhaps not. She is too ... too....' said Fru Thyregod, who, -not having very many ideas of her own, liked to induce other people -into supplying the missing adjective. - -'She is too important,' Julian said gravely. - -The adjective in this case was unexpected. The Danish Excellency could -only say,-- - -'I think I know what you mean.' - -Julian, perfectly well aware that she did not, and caring nothing -whether she did or no, but carelessly willing to illuminate himself -further on the subject, pursued,-- - -'Her frivolity is a mask. Her instincts alone are deep; _how_ deep, -it frightens me to think. She is an artist, although, she may never -produce art. She lives in a world of her own, with its own code of -morals and values. The Eve that we all know is a sham, the product of -her own pride and humour. She is laughing at us all. The Eve we know is -entertaining, cynical, selfish, unscrupulous. The real Eve is ...' he -paused, and brought out his words with a satisfied finality, 'a rebel -and an idealist.' - -Then, glancing at his bewildered companion, he laughed and said,-- - -'Don't believe a word I say, Fru Thyregod: Eve is nineteen, bent only -upon enjoying her life to the full.' - -He knew, nevertheless, that he had swept together the loose wash of -his thought into a concrete channel; and rejoiced. - -Fru Thyregod passed to a safer topic. She liked Julian, and understood -only one form of excitement. - -'You bring with you such a breath of freshness and originality,' she -said, sighing, 'into our stale little world.' - -His newly-found good humour coaxed him into responsiveness. - -'No world can surely ever be stale to you, Fru Thyregod; I always think -of you as endowed with perpetual youth and gaiety.' - -'Ah, Julian, you have perfect manners, to pay so charming a compliment -to an old woman like me.' - -She neither thought her world stale or little, nor herself old, but -pathos had often proved itself of value. - -'Everybody knows, Fru Thyregod, that you are the life and soul of -Herakleion.' - -They had wandered into a little wood, and sat down on a fallen tree -beside the stream. She began again prodding at the ground with her -parasol, keeping her eyes cast down. She was glad to have captured -Julian, partly for her own sake, and partly because she knew that Eve -would be annoyed. - -'How delightful to escape from all our noisy friends,' she said; 'we -shall create quite a scandal; but I am too unconventional to trouble -about that. I cannot sympathise with those limited, conventional folk -who always consider appearances. I have always said, "One should be -natural. Life is too short for the conventions." Although, I think one -should refrain from giving pain. When I was a girl, I was a terrible -tomboy.' - -He listened to her babble of coy platitudes, contrasting her with Eve. - -'I never lost my spirits,' she went on, in the meditative tone she -thought suitable to _tête-à-tête_ conversations--it provoked intimacy, -and afforded agreeable relief to her more social manner; a woman, to -be charming, must be several-sided; gay in public, but a little wistful -philosophy was interesting in private; it indicated sympathy, and -betrayed a thinking mind,--'I never lost my spirits, although life has -not always been very easy for me; still, with good spirits and perhaps -a little courage one can continue to laugh, isn't that the way to take -life? and on the whole I have enjoyed mine, and my little adventures -too, my little harmless adventures; Carl always laughs and says, "You -will always have adventures, Mabel, so I must make the best of it,"--he -says that, though he has been very jealous at times. Poor Carl,' she -said reminiscently, 'perhaps I have made him suffer; who knows?' - -Julian looked at her; he supposed that her existence was made up of -such experiments, and knew that the arrival of every new young man in -Herakleion was to her a source of flurry and endless potentialities -which, alas, never fulfilled their promise, but which left her -undaunted and optimistic for the next affray. - -'Why do I always talk about myself to you?' she said, with her little -laugh; 'you must blame yourself for being too sympathetic.' - -He scarcely knew how their conversation progressed; he wondered idly -whether Eve conducted hers upon the same lines with Don Rodrigo Valdez, -or whether she had been claimed by Miloradovitch, to whom she said she -was engaged. Did she care for Miloradovitch? he was immensely rich, -the owner of jewels and oil-mines, remarkably good-looking; dashing, -and a gambler. At diplomatic gatherings he wore a beautiful uniform. -Julian had seen Eve dancing with him; he had seen the Russian closely -following her out of a room, bending forward to speak to her, and her -ironical eyes raised for an instant over the slow movement of her fan. -He had seen them disappear together, and the provocative poise of -her white shoulders, and the richness of the beautiful uniform, had -remained imprinted on his memory. - -He awoke with dismay to the fact that Fru Thyregod had taken off her -hat. - -She had a great quantity of soft, yellow hair into which she ran her -fingers, lifting its weight as though oppressed. He supposed that the -gesture was not so irrelevant to their foregoing conversation, of which -he had not noticed a word, as it appeared to be. He was startled to -find himself saying in a tone of commiseration,-- - -'Yes, it must be very heavy.' - -'I wish that I could cut it all off,' Fru Thyregod cried petulantly. -'Why, to amuse you, only look....' and to his horror she withdrew a -number of pins and allowed her hair to fall in a really beautiful -cascade over her shoulders. She smiled at him, parting the strands -before her eyes. - -At that moment Eve and Miloradovitch came into view, wandering side by -side down the path. - -Of the four, Miloradovitch alone was amused. Julian was full of a -shamefaced anger towards Fru Thyregod, and between the two women an -instant enmity sprang into being like a living and visible thing. The -Russian drew near to Fru Thyregod with some laughing compliment; she -attached herself desperately to him as a refuge from Julian. Julian and -Eve remained face to face with one another. - -'Walk with me a little,' she said, making no attempt to disguise her -fury. - -'My dear Eve,' he said, when they were out of earshot, 'I should -scarcely recognise you when you put on that expression.' - -He spoke frigidly. She was indeed transformed, her features coarsened -and unpleasing, her soft delicacy vanished. He could not believe that -he had ever thought her rare, exquisite, charming. - -'I don't blame you for preferring Fru Thyregod,' she returned. - -'I believe your vanity to be so great that you resent any man speaking -to any other woman but yourself,' he said, half persuading himself that -he was voicing a genuine conviction. - -'Very well, if you choose to believe that,' she replied. - -They walked a little way in angry silence. - -'I detest all women,' he added presently. - -'Including me?' - -'Beginning with you.' - -He was reminded of their childhood with its endless disputes, and made -an attempt to restore their friendship. - -'Come, Eve, why are we quarrelling? I do not make you jealous scenes -about Miloradovitch.' - -'Far from it,' she said harshly. - -'Why should he want to marry you?' he began, his anger rising again. -'What qualities have you? Clever, seductive, and entertaining! But, on -the other hand, selfish, jealous, unkind, pernicious, indolent, vain. -A bad bargain. If he knew you as well as I.... Jealousy! It amounts to -madness.' - -'I am perhaps not jealous where Miloradovitch is concerned,' she said. - -'Then spare me the compliment of being jealous of me. You wreck -affection; you will wreck your life through your jealousy and -exorbitance.' - -'No doubt,' she replied in a tone of so much sadness that he became -remorseful. He contrasted, moreover, her violence, troublesome, -inconvenient, as it often was, with the standardised and distasteful -little inanities of Fru Thyregod and her like, and found Eve preferable. - -'Darling, you never defend yourself; it is very disarming.' - -But she would not accept the olive-branch he offered. - -'Sentimentality becomes you very badly, Julian; keep it for Fru -Thyregod.' - -'We have had enough of Fru Thyregod,' he said, flushing. - -'It suits you to say so; I do not forget so easily. Really, Julian, -sometimes I think you very commonplace. From the moment you arrived -until to-day, you have never been out of Fru Thyregod's pocket. Like -Alexander, once. Like any stray young man.' - -'Eve!' he said, in astonishment at the outrageous accusation. - -'My little Julian, have you washed the lap-dog to-day? Carl always -says, "Mabel, you are fonder of your dogs than of your children--you -are really dreadful," but I don't think that's quite fair,' said Eve, -in so exact an imitation of Fru Thyregod's voice and manner that Julian -was forced to smile. - -She went on,-- - -'I expect too much of you. My imagination makes of you something -which you are not. I so despise the common herd that I persuade -myself that you are above it. I can persuade myself of anything,' she -said scathingly, wounding him in the recesses of his most treasured -vanity--her good opinion of him; 'I persuade myself that you are a -Titan amongst men, almost a god, but in reality, if I could see you -without prejudice, what are you fit for? to be Fru Thyregod's lover!' - -'You are mad,' he said, for there was no other reply. - -'When I am jealous, I am mad,' she flung at him. - -'But if you are jealous of me....' he said, appalled. 'Supposing you -were ever in love, your jealousy would know no bounds. It is a disease. -It is the ruin of our friendship.' - -'Entirely.' - -'You are inordinately perverse.' - -'Inordinately.' - -'Supposing I were to marry, I should not dare--what an absurd -thought--to introduce you to my wife.' - -A truly terrible expression came into her eyes; they narrowed to little -slits, and turned slightly inwards; as though herself aware of it, she -bent to pick the little cyclamen. - -'Are you trying to tell me, Julian....' - -'You told me you were engaged to Miloradovitch.' - -She stood up, regardless, and he saw the tragic pallor of her face. She -tore the cyclamen to pieces beneath her white fingers. - -'It is true, then?' she said, her voice dead. - -He began to laugh. - -'You do indeed persuade yourself very easily.' - -'Julian, you must tell me. You must. Is it true?' - -'If it were?' - -'I should have to kill you--or myself,' she replied with the utmost -gravity. - -'You are mad,' he said again, in the resigned tone of one who states a -perfectly established fact. - -'If I am mad, you are unutterably cruel,' she said, twisting her -fingers together; 'will you answer me, yes or no? I believe it is -true,' she rushed on, immolating herself, 'you have fallen in love with -some woman in England, and she, naturally, with you. Who is she? You -have promised to marry her. You, whom I thought so free and splendid, -to load yourself with the inevitable fetters!' - -'I should lose caste in your eyes?' he asked, thinking to himself that -Eve was, when roused, scarcely a civilised being. 'But if you marry -Miloradovitch you will be submitting to the same fetters you think so -degrading.' - -'Miloradovitch,' she said impatiently, 'Miloradovitch will no more -ensnare me than have the score of people I have been engaged to since -I last saw you. You are still evading your answer.' - -'You will never marry?' he dwelt on his discovery. - -'Nobody that I loved,' she replied without hesitation, 'but, Julian, -Julian, you don't answer my question?' - -'Would you marry me if I wanted you to?' he asked carelessly. - -'Not for the world, but why keep me in suspense? only answer me, are -you trying to tell me that you have fallen in love? if so, admit -it, please, at once, and let me go; don't you see, I am leaving Fru -Thyregod on one side, I ask you in all humility now, Julian.' - -'For perhaps the fiftieth time since you were thirteen,' he said, -smiling. - -'Have you tormented me long enough?' - -'Very well: I am in love with the Islands, and with nothing and nobody -else.' - -'Then why had Fru Thyregod her hair down her back? you're lying to me, -and I despise you doubly for it,' she reverted, humble no longer, but -aggressive. - -'Fru Thyregod again?' he said, bewildered. - -'How little I trust you,' she broke out; 'I believe that you deceive me -at every turn. Kato, too; you spend hours in Kato's flat. What do you -do there? You write letters to people of whom I have never heard. You -dined with the Thyregods twice last week. Kato sends you notes by hand -from Herakleion when you are in the country. You use the Islands as -dust to throw in my eyes, but I am not blinded.' - -'I have had enough of this!' he cried. - -'You are like everybody else,' she insisted; 'you enjoy mean -entanglements, and you cherish the idea of marriage. You want a home, -like everybody else. A faithful wife. Children. I loathe children,' she -said violently. 'You are very different from me. You are tame. I have -deluded myself into thinking we were alike. You are tame, respectable. -A good citizen. You have all the virtues. I will live to show you how -different we are. Ten years hence, you will say to your wife, "No, my -dear, I really cannot allow you to know that poor Eve." And your wife, -well trained, submissive, will agree.' - -He shrugged his shoulders, accustomed to such storms, and knowing that -she only sought to goad him into a rage. - -'In the meantime, go back to Fru Thyregod; why trouble to lie to me? -And to Kato, go back to Kato. Write to the woman in England, too. I -will go to Miloradovitch, or to any of the others.' - -He was betrayed into saying,-- - -'The accusation of mean entanglements comes badly from your lips.' - -In her heart she guessed pretty shrewdly at his real relation towards -women: a self-imposed austerity, with violent relapses that had no -lasting significance, save to leave him with his contemptuous distaste -augmented. His mind was too full of other matters. For Kato alone he -had a profound esteem. - -Eve answered his last remark,-- - -'I will prove to you the little weight of my entanglements, by -dismissing Miloradovitch to-day; you have only to say the word.' - -'You would do that--without remorse?' - -'Miloradovitch is nothing to me.' - -'You are something to him--perhaps everything.' - -'Cela ne me regarde pas,' she replied. 'Would you do as much for me? -Fru Thyregod, for instance? or Kato?' - -Interested and curious, he said,-- - -'To please you, I should give up Kato?' - -'You would not?' - -'Most certainly I should not. Why suggest it? Kato is your friend as -much as mine. Are all women's friendships so unstable?' - -'Be careful, Julian: you are on the quicksands.' - -'I have had enough of these topics,' he said, 'will you leave them?' - -'No; I choose my own topics; you shan't dictate to me.' - -'You would sacrifice Miloradovitch without a thought, to please me--why -should it please me?--but you would not forgo the indulgence of your -jealousy! I am not grateful. Our senseless quarrels,' he said, 'over -which we squander so much anger and emotion.' But he did not stop to -question what lay behind their important futility. He passed his hand -wearily over his hair, 'I am deluded sometimes into believing in their -reality and sanity. You are too difficult. You ... you distort and -bewitch, until one expects to wake up from a dream. Sometimes I think -of you as a woman quite apart from other women, but at other times I -think you live merely by and upon fictitious emotion and excitement. -Must your outlook be always so narrowly personal? Kato, thank Heaven, -is very different. I shall take care to choose my friends amongst men, -or amongst women like Kato,' he continued, his exasperation rising. - -'Julian, don't be so angry: it isn't my fault that I hate politics.' - -He grew still angrier at her illogical short-cut to the reproach which -lay, indeed, unexpressed at the back of his mind. - -'I never mentioned politics. I know better. No man in his senses would -expect politics from any woman so demoralisingly feminine as yourself. -Besides, that isn't your rôle. Your rôle is to be soft, idle; a toy; a -siren; the negation of enterprise. Work and woman--the terms contradict -one another. The woman who works, or who tolerates work, is only -half a woman. The most you can hope for,' he said with scorn, 'is to -inspire--and even that you do unconsciously, and very often quite -against your will. You sap our energy; you sap and you destroy.' - -She had not often heard him speak with so much bitterness, but she did -not know that his opinions in this more crystallised form dated from -that slight moment in which he had divined her own untrustworthiness. - -'You are very wise. I forget whether you are twenty-two or -twenty-three?' - -'Oh, you may be sarcastic. I only know that I will never have my life -wrecked by women. To-morrow the elections take place, and, after that, -whatever their result, I belong to the Islands.' - -'I think I see you with a certain clearness,' she said more gently, -'full of illusions, independence, and young generosities--_nous passons -tous par là_.' - -'Talk English, Eve, and be less cynical; if I am twenty-two, as you -reminded me, you are nineteen.' - -'If you could find a woman who was a help and not a hindrance?' she -suggested. - -'Ah!' he said, 'the Blue Bird! I am not likely to be taken in; I -am too well on my guard.--Look!' he added, 'Fru Thyregod and your -Russian friend; I leave you to them,' and before Eve could voice her -indignation he had disappeared into the surrounding woods. - - - - -IV - - -On the next day, the day of the elections, which was also the -anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, Herakleion blossomed -suddenly, and from the earliest hour, into a striped and fluttering -gaudiness. The sun shone down upon a white town beflagged into -an astonishing gaiety. Everywhere was whiteness, whiteness, and -brilliantly coloured flags. White, green, and orange, dazzling in the -sun, vivid in the breeze. And, keyed up to match the intensity of the -colour, the band blared brassily, unremittingly, throughout the day -from the centre of the _platia_. - -A parrot-town, glaring and screeching; a monkey-town, gibbering, -excited, inconsequent. All the shops, save the sweet-shops, were shut, -and the inhabitants flooded into the streets. Not only had they decked -their houses with flags, they had also decked themselves with ribbons, -their women with white dresses, their children with bright bows, their -carriages with paper streamers, their horses with sunbonnets. Bands of -young men, straw-hatted, swept arm-in-arm down the pavements, adding -to the din with mouth organs, mirlitons, and tin trumpets. The trams -flaunted posters in the colours of the contending parties. Immense -char-à-bancs, roofed over with brown holland and drawn by teams of -mules, their harness hung with bells and red tassels, conveyed the -voters to the polling-booths amid the cheers and imprecations of the -crowd. - -Herakleion abandoned itself deliriously to political carnival. - -In the immense, darkened rooms of the houses on the _platia_, the -richer Greeks idled, concealing their anxiety. It was tacitly -considered beneath their dignity to show themselves in public during -that day. They could but await the fruition or the failure of their -activities during the preceding weeks. Heads of households were for -the most part morose, absorbed in calculations and regrets. Old -Christopoulos, looking more bleached than usual, wished he had been -more generous. That secretaryship for Alexander.... In the great sala -of his house he paced restlessly up and down, biting his finger nails, -and playing on his fingers the tune of the many thousand drachmæ he -might profitably have expended. The next election would not take place -for five years. At the next election he would be a great deal more -lavish. - -He had made the same resolution at every election during the past -thirty years. - -In the background, respectful of his silence, themselves dwarfed and -diminutive in the immense height of the room, little knots of his -relatives and friends whispered together, stirring cups of tisane. -Heads were very close together, glances at old Christopoulos very -frequent. Visitors, isolated or in couples, strolled in unannounced -and informally, stayed for a little, strolled away again. A perpetual -movement of such circulation rippled through the houses in the _platia_ -throughout the day, rumour assiduous in its wake. Fru Thyregod alone, -with her fat, silly laugh, did her best wherever she went to lighten -the funereal oppression of the atmosphere. The Greeks she visited were -not grateful. Unlike the populace in the streets, they preferred taking -their elections mournfully. - -By midday the business of voting was over, and in the houses of the -_platia_ the Greeks sat round their luncheon-tables with the knowledge -that the vital question was now decided, though the answer remained -as yet unknown, and that in the polling-booths an army of clerks sat -feverishly counting, while the crowd outside, neglectful of its meal, -swarmed noisily in the hope of news. In the houses of the _platia_, -on this one day of the year, the Greeks kept open table. Each vast -dining-room, carefully darkened and indistinguishable in its family -likeness from its neighbour in the house on either side, offered its -hospitality under the inevitable chandelier. In each, the host greeted -the new-comer with the same perfunctory smile. In each, the busy -servants came and went, carrying dishes and jugs of orangeade--for -Levantine hospitality, already heavily strained, boggled at wine--among -the bulky and old-fashioned sideboards. All joyousness was absent from -these gatherings, and the closed shutters served to exclude, not only -the heat, but also the strains of the indefatigable band playing on the -_platia_. - -Out in the streets the popular excitement hourly increased, for if the -morning had been devoted to politics, the afternoon and evening were -to be devoted to the annual feast and holiday of the Declaration of -Independence. The national colours, green and orange, seemed trebled in -the town. They hung from every balcony and were reproduced in miniature -in every buttonhole. Only here and there an islander in his fustanelle -walked quickly with sulky and averted eyes, rebelliously innocent of -the brilliant cocarde, and far out to sea the rainbow islands shimmered -with never a flag to stain the distant whiteness of the houses upon -Aphros. - -The houses of the _platia_ excelled all others in the lavishness of -their patriotic decorations. The balconies of the club were draped in -green and orange, with the arms of Herakleion arranged in the centre -in electric lights for the evening illumination. The Italian Consulate -drooped its complimentary flag. The house of Platon Malteios--Premier -or ex-Premier? no one knew--was almost too ostentatiously patriotic. -The cathedral, on the opposite side, had its steps carpeted with red -and the spaciousness of its porch festooned with the colours. From -the central window of the Davenant house, opposite the sea, a single -listless banner hung in motionless folds. - -It had, earlier in the day, occasioned a controversy. - -Julian had stood in the centre of the frescoed drawing-room, flushed -and constrained. - -'Father, that flag on our house insults the Islands. It can be seen -even from Aphros!' - -'My dear boy, better that it should be seen from Aphros than that we -should offend Herakleion.' - -'What will the islanders think?' - -'They are accustomed to seeing it there every year.' - -'If I had been at home....' - -'When this house is yours, Julian, you will no doubt do as you please; -so long as it is mine, I beg you not to interfere.' - -Mr Davenant had spoken in his curtest tones. He had added,-- - -'I shall go to the cathedral this afternoon.' - -The service in the cathedral annually celebrated the independence of -Herakleion. Julian slipped out of the house, meaning to mix with the -ill-regulated crowd that began to collect on the _platia_ to watch for -the arrival of the notables, but outside the door of the club he was -discovered by Alexander Christopoulos who obliged him to follow him -upstairs to the Christopoulos drawing-room. - -'My father is really too gloomy for me to confront alone,' Alexander -said, taking Julian's arm and urging him along; 'also I have spent the -morning in the club, which exasperates him. He likes me to sit at home -while he stands looking at me and mournfully shaking his head.' - -They came into the sala together, where old Christopoulos paced up and -down in front of the shuttered windows, and a score of other people sat -whispering over their cups of tisane. White dresses, dim mirrors, and -the dull gilt of furniture gleamed here and there in the shadows of the -vast room. - -'Any news? any news?' the banker asked of the two young men. - -'You know quite well, father, that no results are to be declared until -seven o'clock this evening.' - -Alexander opened a section of a Venetian blind, and as a shaft of -sunlight fell startlingly across the floor a blare of music burst -equally startlingly upon the silence. - -'The _platia_ is crowded already,' said Alexander, looking out. - -The hum of the crowd became audible, mingled with the music; explosions -of laughter, and some unexplained applause. The shrill cry of a seller -of iced water rang immediately beneath the window. The band in the -centre continued to shriek remorselessly an antiquated air of the Paris -boulevards. - -'At what time is the procession due?' asked Fru Thyregod over Julian's -shoulder. - -'At five o'clock; it should arrive at any moment,' Julian said, making -room for the Danish Excellency. - -'I adore processions,' cried Fru Thyregod, clapping her hands, and -looking brightly from Julian to Alexander. - -Alexander whispered to Julie Lafarge, who had come up,-- - -'I am sure Fru Thyregod has gone from house to house and from Legation -to Legation, and has had a meal at each to-day.' - -Somebody suggested,-- - -'Let us open the shutters and watch the procession from the balconies.' - -'Oh, what a good idea!' cried Fru Thyregod, clapping her hands again -and executing a pirouette. - -Down in the _platia_ an indefinite movement was taking place; the band -stopped playing for the first time that day, and began shuffling with -all its instruments to one side. Voices were then heard raised in tones -of authority. A cleavage appeared in the crowd, which grew in length -and width as though a wedge were being gradually driven into that -reluctant confusion of humanity. - -'A path for the procession,' said old Christopoulos, who, although -not pleased at that frivolous flux of his family and guests on to -the balconies of his house, had joined them, overcome by his natural -curiosity. - -The path cut in the crowd now ran obliquely across the _platia_ from -the end of the rue Royale to the steps of the cathedral opposite, -and upon it the confetti with which the whole _platia_ was no doubt -strewn became visible. The police, with truncheons in their hands, -were pressing the people back to widen the route still further. They -wore their gala hats, three-cornered, with upright plumes of green and -orange nodding as they walked. - -'Look at Sterghiou,' said Alexander. - -The Chief of Police rode vaingloriously down the route looking from -left to right, and saluting with his free hand. The front of his -uniform was crossed with broad gold hinges, and plaits of yellow braid -disappeared mysteriously into various pockets. One deduced whistles; -pencils; perhaps a knife. Although he did not wear feathers in his hat, -one knew that only the utmost self-restraint had preserved him from -them. - -Here the band started again with a march, and Sterghiou's horse shied -violently and nearly unseated him. - -'The troops!' said old Christopoulos with emotion. - -Debouching from the rue Royale, the army came marching four abreast. As -it was composed of only four hundred men, and as it never appeared on -any other day of the year, its general Panaïoannou always mobilised it -in its entirety on the national festival. This entailed the temporary -closing of the casino in order to release the croupiers, who were -nearly all in the ranks, and led to a yearly dispute between the -General and the board of administration. - -'There was once a croupier,' said Alexander, 'who was admitted to the -favour of a certain grand-duchess until the day when, indiscreetly -coming into the dressing-room where the lady was arranging and -improving her appearance, he said, through sheer force of habit, -"Madame, les jeux sont faits?" and was dismissed for ever by her reply, -"Rien ne va plus."' - -The general himself rode in the midst of his troops, in his sky-blue -uniform, to which the fantasy of his Buda-Pesth costumier had added for -the occasion a slung Hussar jacket of white cloth. His gray moustache -was twisted fiercely upwards, and curved like a scimitar across his -face. He rode with his hand on his hip, slowly scanning the windows -and balconies of the _platia_, which by now were crowded with people, -gravely saluting his friends as he passed. Around him marched his -bodyguard of six, a captain and five men; the captain carried in one -hand a sword, and in the other--nobody knew why--a long frond of palm. - -The entire army tramped by, hot, stout, beaming, and friendly. At -one moment some one threw down a handful of coins from a window, and -the ranks were broken in a scramble for the coppers. Julian, who was -leaning apart in a corner of his balcony, heard a laugh like a growl -behind him as the enormous hand of Grbits descended on his shoulder. - -'Remember the lesson, young man: if you are called upon to deal with -the soldiers of Herakleion, a fistful of silver amongst them will -scatter them.' - -Julian thought apprehensively that they must be overheard, but Grbits -continued in supreme unconsciousness,-- - -'Look at their army, composed of shop-assistants and croupiers. Look -at their general--a general in his spare moments, but in the serious -business of his life a banker and an intriguer like the rest of them. -I doubt whether he has ever seen anything more dead in his life than a -dead dog in a gutter. I could pick him up and squash in his head like -an egg.' - -Grbits extended his arm and slowly unfolded the fingers of his enormous -hand. At the same time he gave his great laugh that was like the laugh -of a good-humoured ogre. - -'At your service, young man,' he said, displaying the full breadth of -his palm to Julian, 'whenever you stand in need of it. The Stavridists -will be returned to-day; lose no time; show them your intentions.' - -He impelled Julian forward to the edge of the balcony and pointed -across to the Davenant house. - -'That flag, young man: see to it that it disappears within the hour -after the results of the elections are announced.' - -The army was forming itself into two phalanxes on either side of -the cathedral steps. Panaïoannou caracoled up and down shouting his -orders, which were taken up and repeated by the busy officers on foot. -Meanwhile the notables in black coats were arriving in a constant -stream that flowed into the cathedral; old Christopoulos had already -left the house to attend the religious ceremony; the foreign Ministers -and Consuls attended out of compliment to Herakleion; Madame Lafarge -had rolled down the route in her barouche with her bearded husband; -Malteios had crossed the _platia_ from his own house, and Stavridis -came, accompanied by his wife and daughters. Still the band played on, -the crowd laughed, cheered, or murmured in derision, and the strident -cries of the water-sellers rose from all parts of the _platia_. - -Suddenly the band ceased to play, and in the hush only the hum of the -crowd continued audible. - -The religious procession came walking very slowly from the rue Royale, -headed by a banner and by a file of young girls, walking two by two, -in white dresses, with wreaths of roses on their heads. As they walked -they scattered sham roses out of baskets, the gesture reminiscent of -the big picture in the Senate-room. It was customary for the Premier -of the Republic to walk alone, following these young girls, black -and grave in his frock-coat after their virginal white, but on this -occasion, as no one knew who the actual Premier was, a blank space was -left to represent the problematical absentee. Following the space came -the Premier's habitual escort, a posse of police; it should have been a -platoon of soldiers, but Panaïoannou always refused to consent to such -a diminution of his army. - -'They say,' Grbits remarked to Julian in this connection, 'that the -general withdraws even the sentries from the frontier to swell his -ranks.' - -'Herakleion is open to invasion,' said Julian, smiling. - -Grbits replied sententiously, with the air of one creating a new -proverb,-- - -'Herakleion is open to invasion, but who wants to invade Herakleion?' - -The crowd watched the passage of the procession with the utmost -solemnity. Not a sound was now heard but the monotonous step of -feet. Religious awe had hushed political hilarity. Archbishop and -bishops; archmandrites and _papás_ of the country districts, passed in -a mingling of scarlet, purple and black. All the pomp of Herakleion -had been pressed into service--all the clamorous, pretentious pomp, -shouting for recognition, beating on a hollow drum; designed to impress -the crowd; and perhaps, also, to impress, beyond the crowd, the silent -Islands that possessed no army, no clergy, no worldly trappings, but -that suffered and struggled uselessly, pitiably, against the tinsel -tyrant in vain but indestructible rebellion. - - * * * * * * - -As five o'clock drew near, the entire population seemed to be collected -in the _platia_. The white streak that had marked the route of the -procession had long ago disappeared, and the square was now, seen from -above, only a dense and shifting mass of people. In the Christopoulos -drawing-room, where Julian still lingered, talking to Grbits and -listening to the alternate foolishness, fanaticism, and ferocious -good-humour of the giant, the Greeks rallied in numbers with only one -topic on their lips. Old Christopoulos was frankly biting his nails and -glancing at the clock; Alexander but thinly concealed his anxiety under -a dribble of his usual banter. The band had ceased playing, and the -subtle ear could detect an inflection in the very murmur of the crowd. - -'Let us go on to the balcony again,' Grbits said to Julian; 'the -results will be announced from the steps of Malteios' house.' - -They went out; some of the Greeks followed them, and all pressed -behind, near the window openings. - -'It is a more than usually decisive day for Herakleion,' said old -Christopoulos, and Julian knew that the words were spoken at, although -not to, him. - -He felt that the Greeks looked upon him as an intruder, wishing him -away so that they might express their opinions freely, but in a spirit -of contrariness he remained obstinately. - -A shout went up suddenly from the crowd: a little man dressed in black, -with a top-hat, and a great many white papers in his hand, had appeared -in the frame of Malteios' front-door. He stood on the steps, coughed -nervously, and dropped his papers. - -'Inefficient little rat of a secretary!' cried Alexander in a burst of -fury. - -'Listen!' said Grbits. - -A long pause of silence from the whole _platia_, in which one thin -voice quavered, reaching only the front row of the crowd. - -'Stavridis has it,' Grbits said quietly, who had been craning over the -edge of the balcony. His eyes twinkled maliciously, delightedly, at -Julian across the group of mortified Greeks. 'An immense majority,' he -invented, enjoying himself. - -Julian was already gone. Slipping behind old Christopoulos, whose -saffron face had turned a dirty plum colour, he made his way downstairs -and out into the street. A species of riot, in which the police, having -failed successfully to intervene, were enthusiastically joining, had -broken out in the _platia_. Some shouted for Stavridis, some for -Malteios; some railed derisively against the Islands. People threw -their hats into the air, waved their arms, and kicked up their legs. -Some of them were vague as to the trend of their own opinions, others -extremely determined, but all were agreed about making as much noise as -possible. Julian passed unchallenged to his father's house. - -Inside the door he found Aristotle talking with three islanders. They -laid hold of him, urgent though respectful, searching his face with -eager eyes. - -'It means revolt at last; you will not desert us, Kyrie?' - -He replied,-- - -'Come with me, and you will see.' - -They followed him up the stairs, pressing closely after him. On the -landing he met Eve and Kato, coming out of the drawing-room. The singer -was flushed, two gold wheat-ears trembled in her hair, and she had -thrown open the front of her dress. Eve hung on her arm. - -'Julian!' Kato exclaimed, 'you have heard, Platon has gone?' - -In her excitement she inadvertently used Malteios' Christian name. - -'It means,' he replied, 'that Stavridis, now in power, will lose no -time in bringing against the Islands all the iniquitous reforms we know -he contemplates. It means that the first step must be taken by us.' - -His use of the pronoun ranged himself, Kato, Aristotle, the three -islanders, and the invisible Islands into an instant confederacy. Kato -responded to it,-- - -'Thank God for this.' - -They waited in complete confidence for his next words. He had shed his -aloofness, and all his efficiency of active leadership was to the fore. - -'Where is my father?' - -'He went to the Cathedral; he has not come home yet, Kyrie.' - -Julian passed into the drawing-room, followed by Eve and Kato and the -four men. Outside the open window, fastened to the balcony, flashed -the green and orange flag of Herakleion. Julian took a knife from -his pocket, and, cutting the cord that held it, withdrew flag and -flag-staff into the room and flung it on to the ground. - -'Take it away,' he said to the islanders, 'or my father will order it -to be replaced. And if he orders another to be hung out in its place,' -he added, looking at them with severity, 'remember there is no other -flag in the house, and none to be bought in Herakleion.' - -At that moment a servant from the country-house came hurriedly into the -room, drew Julian unceremoniously aside, and broke into an agitated -recital in a low voice. Eve heard Julian saying,-- - -'Nicolas sends for me? But he should have given a reason. I cannot come -now, I cannot leave Herakleion.' - -And the servant,-- - -'Kyrie, the major-domo impressed upon me that I must on no account -return without you. Something has occurred, something serious. What -it is I do not know. The carriage is waiting at the back entrance; we -could not drive across the _platia_ on account of the crowds.' - -'I shall have to go, I suppose,' Julian said to Eve and Kato. 'I will -go at once, and will return, if possible, this evening. Nicolas would -not send without an excellent reason, though he need not have made this -mystery. Possibly a message from Aphros.... In any case, I must go.' - -'I will come with you,' Eve said unexpectedly. - - - - -V - - -In almost unbroken silence they drove out to the country-house, in a -hired victoria, to the quick, soft trot of the two little lean horses, -away from the heart of the noisy town; past the race-course with its -empty stands; under the ilex-avenue in a tunnel of cool darkness; along -the road, redolent with magnolias in the warmth of the evening; through -the village, between the two white lodges; and round the bend of the -drive between the bushes of eucalyptus. Eve had spoken, but he had said -abruptly,-- - -'Don't talk; I want to think,' and she, after a little gasp of -astonished indignation, had relapsed languorous into her corner, her -head propped on her hand, and her profile alone visible to her cousin. -He saw, in the brief glance that he vouchsafed her, that her red mouth -looked more than usually sulky, in fact not unlike the mouth of a -child on the point of tears, a very invitation to inquiry, but, more -from indifference than deliberate wisdom, he was not disposed to take -up the challenge. He too sat silent, his thoughts flying over the -day, weighing the consequences of his own action, trying to forecast -the future. He was far away from Eve, and she knew it. At times he -enraged and exasperated her almost beyond control. His indifference -was an outrage on her femininity. She knew him to be utterly beyond -her influence: taciturn when he chose, ill-tempered when he chose, -exuberant when he chose, rampageous, wild; insulting to her at moments; -domineering whatever his mood, and regardless of her wishes; yet at the -same time unconscious of all these things. Alone with her now, he had -completely forgotten her presence by his side. - -Her voice broke upon his reflections,-- - -'Thinking of the Islands, Julian?' and her words joining like -a cogwheel smoothly on to the current of his mind, he answered -naturally,-- - -'Yes,' - -'I thought as much. I have something to tell you. You may not be -interested. I am no longer engaged to Miloradovitch.' - -'Since when?' - -'Since yesterday evening. Since you left me, and ran away into the -woods. I was angry, and vented my anger on him.' - -'Was that fair?' - -'He has you to thank. It has happened before--with others.' - -Roused for a second from his absorption, he impatiently shrugged his -shoulders, and turned his back, and looked out over the sea. Eve was -again silent, brooding and resentful in her corner. Presently he turned -towards her, and said angrily, reverting to the Islands,-- - -'You are the vainest and most exorbitant woman I know. You resent one's -interest in anything but yourself.' - -As she did not answer, he added,-- - -'How sulky you look; it's very unbecoming.' - -Was no sense of proportion or of responsibility ever to weigh upon her -beautiful shoulders? He was irritated, yet he knew that his irritation -was half-assumed, and that in his heart he was no more annoyed by her -fantasy than by the fantasy of Herakleion. They matched each other; -their intangibility, their instability, were enough to make a man -shake his fists to Heaven, yet he was beginning to believe that their -colour and romance--for he never dissociated Eve and Herakleion in his -mind--were the dearest treasures of his youth. He turned violently and -amazingly upon her. - -'Eve, I sometimes hate you, damn you; but you are the rainbow of my -days.' - -She smiled, and, enlightened, he perceived with interest, curiosity, -and amused resignation, the clearer grouping of the affairs of his -youthful years. Fantasy to youth! Sobriety to middle-age! Carried away, -he said to her,-- - -'Eve! I want adventure, Eve!' - -Her eyes lit up in instant response, but he could not read her inward -thought, that the major part of his adventure should be, not Aphros, -but herself. He noted, however, her lighted eyes, and leaned over to -her. - -'You are a born adventurer, Eve, also.' - -She remained silent, but her eyes continued to dwell on him, and to -herself she was thinking, always sardonic although the matter was of -such perennial, such all-eclipsing importance to her,-- - -'A la bonne heure, he realises my existence.' - -'What a pity you are not a boy; we could have seen the adventure of the -Islands through together.' - -('The Islands always!' she thought ruefully.) - -'I should like to cross to Aphros to-night,' he murmured, with absent -eyes.... - -('Gone again,' she thought. 'I held him for a moment.') - - -When they reached the house no servants were visible, but in reply to -the bell a young servant appeared, scared, white-faced, and, as rapidly -disappearing, was replaced by the old major-domo. He burst open the -door into the passage, a crowd of words pressing on each other's heels -in his mouth; he had expected Julian alone; when he saw Eve, who was -idly turning over the letters that awaited her, he clapped his hand -tightly over his lips, and stood, struggling with his speech, balancing -himself in his arrested impetus on his toes. - -'Well, Nicolas?' said Julian. - -The major-domo exploded, removing his hand from his mouth,-- - -'Kyrie! a word alone....' and as abruptly replaced the constraining -fingers. - -Julian followed him through the swing door into the servants' quarters, -where the torrent broke loose. - -'Kyrie, a disaster! I have sent men with a stretcher. I remained in -the house myself looking for your return. Father Paul--yes, yes, it is -he--drowned--yes, drowned--at the bottom of the garden. Come, Kyrie, -for the love of God. Give directions. I am too old a man. God be -praised, you have come. Only hasten. The men are there already with -lanterns.' - -He was clinging helplessly to Julian's wrist, and kept moving his -fingers up and down Julian's arm, twitching fingers that sought -reassurance from firmer muscles, in a distracted way, while his eyes -beseechingly explored Julian's face. - -Julian, shocked, jarred, incredulous, shook off the feeble fingers in -irritation. The thing was an outrage on the excitement of the day. The -transition to tragedy was so violent that he wished, in revolt, to -disbelieve it. - -'You must be mistaken, Nicolas!' - -'Kyrie, I am not mistaken. The body is lying on the shore. You can see -it there. I have sent lanterns and a stretcher. I beg of you to come.' - -He spoke, tugging at Julian's sleeve, and as Julian remained -unaccountably immovable he sank to his knees, clasping his hands and -raising imploring eyes. His fustanelle spread its pleats in a circle on -the stone floor. His story had suddenly become vivid to Julian with the -words, 'The body is lying on the shore'; 'drowned,' he had said before, -but that had summoned no picture. The body was lying on the shore. The -body! Paul, brisk, alive, familiar, now a body, merely. The body! had a -wave, washing forward, deposited it gently, and retreated without its -burden? or had it floated, pale-faced under the stars, till some man, -looking by chance down at the sea from the terrace at the foot of the -garden, caught that pale, almost phosphorescent gleam rocking on the -swell of the water? - -The old major-domo followed Julian's stride between the lemon-trees, -obsequious and conciliatory. The windows of the house shone behind -them, the house of tragedy, where Eve remained as yet uninformed, -uninvaded by the solemnity, the reality, of the present. Later, she -would have to be told that a man's figure had been wrenched from their -intimate and daily circle. The situation appeared grotesquely out of -keeping with the foregoing day, and with the wide and gentle night. - -From the paved walk under the pergola of gourds rough steps led down -to the sea. Julian, pausing, perceived around the yellow squares of -the lanterns the indistinct figures of men, and heard their low, -disconnected talk breaking intermittently on the continuous wash of -the waves. The sea that he loved filled him with a sudden revulsion -for the indifference of its unceasing movement after its murder of a -man. It should, in decency, have remained quiet, silent; impenetrable, -unrepentant, perhaps; inscrutable, but at least silent; its murmur -echoed almost as the murmur of a triumph.... - -He descended the steps. As he came into view, the men's fragmentary -talk died away; their dim group fell apart; he passed between them, and -stood beside the body of Paul. - -Death. He had never seen it. As he saw it now, he thought that he -had never beheld anything so incontestably real as its irrevocable -stillness. Here was finality; here was defeat beyond repair. In the -face of this judgment no revolt was possible. Only acceptance was -possible. The last word in life's argument had been spoken by an -adversary for long remote, forgotten; an adversary who had remained -ironically dumb before the babble, knowing that in his own time, with -one word, he could produce the irrefutable answer. There was something -positively satisfying in the faultlessness of the conclusion. He had -not thought that death would be like this. Not cruel, not ugly, not -beautiful, not terrifying--merely unanswerable. He wondered now at the -multitude of sensations that had chased successively across his mind -or across his vision: the elections, Fru Thyregod, the jealousy of -Eve, his incredulity and resentment at the news, his disinclination -for action, his indignation against the indifference of the sea; these -things were vain when here, at his feet, lay the ultimate solution. - -Paul lay on his back, his arms straight down his sides, and his long, -wiry body closely sheathed in the wet soutane. The square toes of his -boots stuck up, close together, like the feet of a swathed mummy. His -upturned face gleamed white with a tinge of green in the light of the -lanterns, and appeared more luminous than they. So neat, so orderly he -lay; but his hair, alone disordered, fell in wet red wisps across his -neck and along the ground behind his head. - -At that moment from the direction of Herakleion there came a long hiss -and a rush of bright gold up into the sky; there was a crackle of -small explosions, and fountains of gold showered against the night as -the first fireworks went up from the quays. Rockets soared, bursting -into coloured stars among the real stars, and plumes of golden light -spread themselves dazzlingly above the sea. Faint sounds of cheering -were borne upon the breeze. - -The men around the body of the priest waited, ignorant and bewildered, -relieved that some one had come to take command. Their eyes were bent -upon Julian as he stood looking down; they thought he was praying -for the dead. Presently he became aware of their expectation, and -pronounced with a start,-- - -'Bind up his hair!' - -Fingers hastened clumsily to deal with the stringy red locks; the limp -head was supported, and the hair knotted somehow into a semblance of -its accustomed roll. The old major-domo quavered in a guilty voice, as -though taking the blame for carelessness,-- - -'The hat is lost, Kyrie.' - -Julian let his eyes travel over the little group of men, islanders all, -with an expression of searching inquiry. - -'Which of you made this discovery?' - -It appeared that one of them, going to the edge of the sea in -expectation of the fireworks, had noticed, not the darkness of the -body, but the pallor of the face, in the water not far out from the -rocks. He had waded in and drawn the body ashore. Dead Paul lay there -deaf and indifferent to this account of his own finding. - -'No one can explain....' - -Ah, no! and he, who could have explained, was beyond the reach of -their curiosity. Julian looked at the useless lips, unruffled even by -a smile of sarcasm. He had known Paul all his life, had learnt from -him, travelled with him, eaten with him, chaffed him lightly, but -never, save in that one moment when he had gripped the priest by the -wrist and had looked with steadying intention into his eyes, had their -intimate personalities brushed in passing. Julian had no genius for -friendship.... He began to see that this death had ended an existence -which had run parallel with, but utterly walled off from, his own. - -In shame the words tore themselves from him,-- - -'Had he any trouble?' - -The men slowly, gravely, mournfully shook their heads. They could not -tell. The priest had moved amongst them, charitable, even saintly; yes, -saintly, and one did not expect confidences of a priest. A priest was -a man who received the confidences of other men. Julian heard, and, -possessed by a strong desire, a necessity, for self-accusation, he said -to them in a tone of urgent and impersonal Justice, as one who makes a -declaration, expecting neither protest nor acquiescence,-- - -'I should have inquired into his loneliness.' - -They were slightly startled, but, in their ignorance, not -over-surprised, only wondering why he delayed in giving the order -to move the body on to the stretcher and carry it up to the church. -Farther up the coast, the rockets continued to soar, throwing out -bubbles of green and red and orange, fantastically tawdry. Julian -remained staring at the unresponsive corpse, repeating sorrowfully,-- - -'I should have inquired--yes, I should have inquired--into his -loneliness.' - -He spoke with infinite regret, learning a lesson, shedding a particle -of his youth. He had taken for granted that other men's lives were as -promising, as full of dissimulated eagerness, as his own. He had walked -for many hours up and down Paul's study, lost in an audible monologue, -expounding his theories, tossing his rough head, emphasising, -enlarging, making discoveries, intent on his egotism, hewing out his -convictions, while the priest sat by the table, leaning his head on -his hand, scarcely contributing a word, always listening. During those -hours, surely, his private troubles had been forgotten? Or had they -been present, gnawing, beneath the mask of sympathy? A priest was a man -who received the confidences of other men! - -'Carry him up,' Julian said, 'carry him up to the church.' - -He walked away alone as the dark cortège set itself in movement, -his mind strangely accustomed to the fact that Paul would no longer -frequent their house and that the long black figure would no longer -stroll, tall and lean, between the lemon-trees in the garden. The -fact was more simple and more easily acceptable than he could have -anticipated. It seemed already quite an old-established fact. He -remembered with a shock of surprise, and a raising of his eyebrows, -that he yet had to communicate it to Eve. He knew it so well himself -that he thought every one else must know it too. He was immeasurably -more distressed by the tardy realisation of his own egotism in regard -to Paul, than by the fact of Paul's death. - -He walked very slowly, delaying the moment when he must speak to Eve. -He sickened at the prospect of the numerous inevitable inquiries that -would be made to him by both his father and his uncle. He would never -hint to them that the priest had had a private trouble. He rejoiced to -remember his former loyalty, and to know that Eve remained ignorant -of that extraordinary, unexplained conversation when Paul had talked -about the mice. Mice in the church! He, Julian, must see to the decent -covering of the body. And of the face, especially of the face. - -An immense golden wheel flared out of the darkness; whirled, and died -away above the sea. - -In the dim church the men had set down the stretcher before the -iconostase. Julian felt his way cautiously amongst the rush-bottomed -chairs. The men were standing about the stretcher, their fishing caps -in their hands, awed into a whispering mysticism which Julian's voice -harshly interrupted,-- - -'Go for a cloth, one of you--the largest cloth you can find.' - -He had spoken loudly in defiance of the melancholy peace of the church, -that received so complacently within its ready precincts the visible -remains from which the spirit, troubled and uncompanioned in life, -had fled. He had always thought the church complacent, irritatingly -remote from pulsating human existence, but never more so than now when -it accepted the dead body as by right, firstly within its walls, and -lastly within its ground, to decompose and rot, the body of its priest, -among the bodies of other once vital and much-enduring men. - -'Kyrie, we can find only two large cloths, one a dust-sheet, and one a -linen cloth to spread over the altar. Which are we to use?' - -'Which is the larger?' - -'Kyrie, the dust-sheet, but the altar-cloth is of linen edged with -lace.' - -'Use the dust-sheet; dust to dust,' said Julian bitterly. - -Shocked and uncomprehending, they obeyed. The black figure now became a -white expanse, under which the limbs and features defined themselves as -the folds sank into place. - -'He is completely covered over?' - -'Completely, Kyrie.' - -'The mice cannot run over his face?' - -'Kyrie, no!' - -'Then no more can be done until one of you ride into Herakleion for the -doctor.' - -He left them, re-entering the garden by the side-gate which Paul had -himself constructed with his capable, carpenter's hands. There was now -no further excuse for delay; he must exchange the darkness for the -unwelcome light, and must share out his private knowledge to Eve. Those -men, fisher-folk, simple folk, had not counted as human spectators, but -rather as part of the brotherhood of night, nature, and the stars. - -He waited for Eve in the drawing-room, having assured himself that she -had been told nothing, and there, presently, he saw her come in, her -heavy hair dressed high, a fan and a flower drooping from her hand, -and a fringed Spanish shawl hanging its straight silk folds from her -escaping shoulders. Before her indolence, and her slumbrous delicacy, -he hesitated. He wildly thought that he would allow the news to wait. -Tragedy, reality, were at that moment so far removed from her.... She -said in delight, coming up to him, and forgetful that they were in the -house in obedience to a mysterious and urgent message,-- - -'Julian, have you seen the fireworks? Come out into the garden. We'll -watch.' - -He put his arm through her bare arm,-- - -'Eve, I must tell you something.' - -'Fru Thyregod?' she cried, and the difficulty of his task became all -but insurmountable. - -'Something serious. Something about Father Paul.' - -Her strange eyes gave him a glance of undefinable suspicion. - -'What about him?' - -'He has been found, in the water, at the bottom of the garden.' - -'In the water?' - -'In the sea. Drowned.' - -He told her all the circumstances, doggedly, conscientiously, under -the mockery of the tinsel flames that streamed out from the top of -the columns, and of the distant lights flashing through the windows, -speaking as a man who proclaims in a foreign country a great truth -bought by the harsh experience of his soul, to an audience unconversant -with his alien tongue. This truth that he had won, in the presence -of quiet stars, quieter death, and simple men, was desecrated by its -recital to a vain woman in a room where the very architecture was based -on falsity. Still he persevered, believing that his own intensity -of feeling must end in piercing its way to the foundations of her -heart. He laid bare even his harassing conviction of his neglected -responsibility,-- - -'I should have suspected ... I should have suspected....' - -He looked at Eve; she had broken down and was sobbing, Paul's name -mingled incoherently with her sobs. He did not doubt that she was -profoundly shocked, but with a new-found cynicism he ascribed her tears -to shock rather than to sorrow. He himself would have been incapable of -shedding a single tear. He waited quietly for her to recover herself. - -'Oh, Julian! Poor Paul! How terrible to die like that, alone, in the -sea, at night....' For a moment her eyes were expressive of real -horror, and she clasped Julian's hand, gazing at him while all the -visions of her imagination were alive in her eyes. She seemed to be -on the point of adding something further, but continued to cry for a -few moments, and then said, greatly sobered, 'You appear to take for -granted that he has killed himself?' - -He considered this. Up to the present no doubt whatever had existed -in his mind. The possibility of an accident had not occurred to him. -The very quality of repose and peace that he had witnessed had offered -itself to him as the manifest evidence that the man had sought the only -solution for a life grown unendurable. He had acknowledged the man's -wisdom, bowing before his recognition of the conclusive infallibility -of death as a means of escape. Cowardly? so men often said, but -circumstances were conceivable--circumstances in the present case -unknown, withheld, and therefore not to be violated by so much as a -hazarded guess--circumstances were conceivable in which no other course -was to be contemplated. He replied with gravity,-- - -'I do believe he put an end to his life.' - -The secret reason would probably never be disclosed; even if it came -within sight, Julian must now turn his eyes the other way. The secret -which he might have, nay, should have, wrenched from his friend's -reserve while he still lived, must remain sacred and unprofaned now -that he was dead. Not only must he guard it from his own knowledge, but -from the knowledge of others. With this resolution he perceived that he -had already blundered. - -'Eve, I have been wrong; this thing must be presented as an accident. I -have no grounds for believing that he took his life. I must rely on you -to support me. In fairness on poor Paul.... He told me nothing. A man -has a right to his own reticence.' - -He paused, startled at the truth of his discovery, and cried out, -taking his head between his hands,-- - -'Oh God! the appalling loneliness of us all!' - -He shook his head despairingly for a long moment with his hands pressed -over his temples. Dropping his hands with a gesture of discouragement -and lassitude, he regarded Eve. - -'I've found things out to-night, I think I've aged by five years. I -know that Paul suffered enough to put an end to himself. We can't -tell what he suffered from. I never intended to let you think he had -suffered. We must never let any one else suspect it. But imagine the -stages and degrees of suffering which led him to that state of mind; -imagine his hours, his days, and specially his nights. I looked on him -as a village priest, limited to his village; I thought his long hair -funny; God forgive me, I slightly despised him. You, Eve, you thought -him ornamental, a picturesque appendage to the house. And all that -while, he was moving slowly towards the determination that he must kill -himself.... Perhaps, probably, he took his decision yesterday, when you -and I were at the picnic. When Fru Thyregod.... For months, perhaps, -or for years, he had been living with the secret that was to kill him. -He knew, but no one else knew. He shared his knowledge with no one. I -think I shall never look at a man again without awe, and reverence, and -terror.' - -He was trembling strongly, discovering his fellows, discovering -himself, his glowing eyes never left Eve's face. He went on talking -rapidly, as though eager to translate all there was to translate into -words before the aroused energy deserted him. - -'You vain, you delicate, unreal thing, do you understand at all? Have -you ever seen a dead man? You don't know the meaning of pain. You -inflict pain for your amusement. You thing of leisure, you toy! Your -deepest emotion is your jealousy. You can be jealous even where you -cannot love. You make a plaything of men's pain--you woman! You can -change your personality twenty times a day. You can't understand a -man's slow, coherent progression; he, always the same person, scarred -with the wounds of the past. To wound you would be like wounding a -wraith.' - -Under the fury of his unexpected outburst, she protested,-- - -'Julian, why attack me? I've done, I've said, nothing.' - -'You listened uncomprehendingly to me, thinking if you thought at all, -that by to-morrow I should have forgotten my mood of to-night. You are -wrong. I've gone a step forward to-day. I've learnt.... Learnt, I mean, -to respect men who suffer. Learnt the continuity and the coherence of -life. Days linked to days. For you, an episode is an isolated episode.' - -He softened. - -'No wonder you look bewildered. If you want the truth, I am angry with -myself for my blindness towards Paul. Poor little Eve! I only meant -half I said.' - -'You meant every word; one never speaks the truth so fully as when one -speaks it unintentionally.' - -He smiled, but tolerantly and without malice. - -'Eve betrays herself by the glibness of the axiom. You know nothing -of truth. But I've seen truth to-night. All Paul's past life is -mystery, shadow, enigma to me, but at the same time there is a central -light--blinding, incandescent light--which is the fact that he -suffered. Suffered so much that, a priest, he preferred the supreme sin -to such suffering. Suffered so much that, a man, he preferred death to -such suffering! All his natural desire for life was conquered. That -irresistible instinct, that primal law, that persists even to the -moment when darkness and unconsciousness overwhelm us--the fight for -life, the battle to retain our birthright--all this was conquered. -The instinct to escape from life became stronger than the instinct to -preserve it! Isn't that profoundly illuminating?' - -He paused. - -'That fact sweeps, for me, like a great searchlight over an abyss of -pain. The pain the man must have endured before he arrived at such a -reversal of his religion and of his most primitive instinct! His world -was, at the end, turned upside down. A terrifying nightmare. He took -the only course. You cannot think how final death is--so final, so -simple. So simple. There is no more to be said. I had no idea....' - -He spoke himself with the simplicity he was trying to express. He said -again, candidly, evenly, in a voice from which all the emotion had -passed,-- - -'So simple.' - -They were silent for a long time. He had forgotten her, and she was -wondering whether she dared now recall him to the personal. She had -listened, gratified when he attacked her, resentful when he forgot -her, bored with his detachment, but wise enough to conceal both her -resentment and her boredom. She had worshipped him in his anger, and -had admired his good looks in the midst of his fire. She had been -infinitely more interested in him than in Paul. Shocked for a moment by -Paul's death, aware of the stirrings of pity, she had quickly neglected -both for the sake of the living Julian. - -She reviewed a procession of phrases with which she might recall his -attention. - -'You despise me, Julian.' - -'No, I only dissociate you. You represent a different sphere. You -belong to Herakleion. I love you--in your place.' - -'You are hurting me.' - -He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her towards the fight. She -let him have his way, with the disconcerting humility he had sometimes -found in her. She bore his inspection mutely, her hands dropping -loosely by her sides, fragile before his strength. He found that his -thoughts had swept back, away from death, away from Paul, to her -sweetness and her worthlessness. - -'Many people care for you--more fools they,' he said. 'You and I, Eve, -must be allies now. You say I despise you. I shall do so less if I can -enlist your loyalty in Paul's cause. He has died as the result of an -accident. Are you to be trusted?' - -He felt her soft shoulders move in the slightest shrug under the -pressure of his hands. - -'Do you think,' she asked, 'that you will be believed?' - -'I shall insist upon being believed. There is no evidence--is -there?--to prove me wrong.' - -As she did not answer, he repeated his question, then released her in -suspicion. - -'What do you know? tell me!' - -After a very long pause, he said quietly,-- - -'I understand. There are many ways of conveying information. I am very -blind about some things. Heavens! if I had suspected that truth, either -you would not have remained here, or Paul would not have remained here. -A priest! Unheard of.... A priest to add to your collection. First -Miloradovitch, now Paul. Moths pinned upon a board. He loved you? Oh,' -he cried in a passion, 'I see it all: he struggled, you persisted--till -you secured him. A joke to you. Not a joke now--surely not a joke, even -to you--but a triumph. Am I right? A triumph! A man, dead for you. A -priest. You allowed me to talk, knowing all the while.' - -'I am very sorry for Paul,' she said absently. - -He laughed at the pitiably inadequate word. - -'Have the courage to admit that you are flattered. More flattered than -grieved. Sorry for Paul--yes, toss him that conventional tribute before -turning to the luxury of your gratified vanity. That such things can -be! Surely men and women live in different worlds?' - -'But, Julian, what could I do?' - -'He told you he loved you?' - -She acquiesced, and he stood frowning at her, his hands buried in -his pockets and his head thrust forward, picturing the scenes, which -had probably been numerous, between her and the priest, letting his -imagination play over the anguish of his friend and Eve's indifference. -That she had not wholly discouraged him, he was sure. She would not -so easily have let him go. Julian was certain, as though he had -observed their interviews from a hidden corner, that she had amusedly -provoked him, watched him with half-closed, ironical eyes, dropped him -a judicious word in her honeyed voice, driven him to despair by her -disregard, raised him to joy by her capricious friendliness. They had -had every opportunity for meeting. Eve was strangely secretive. All had -been carried on unsuspected. At this point he spoke aloud, almost with -admiration,-- - -'That you, who are so shallow, should be so deep!' - -A glimpse of her life had been revealed to him, but what secrets -remained yet hidden? The veils were lifting from his simplicity; -he contemplated, as it were, a new world--Eve's world, ephemerally -and clandestinely populated. He contemplated it in fascination, -acknowledging that here was an additional, a separate art, insistent -for recognition, dominating, imperative, forcing itself impudently upon -mankind, exasperating to the straight-minded because it imposed itself, -would not be denied, was subtle, pretended so unswervingly to dignity -that dignity was accorded it by a credulous humanity--the art which Eve -practised, so vain, so cruel, so unproductive, the most fantastically -prosperous of impostors! - -She saw the marvel in his eyes, and smiled slightly. - -'Well, Julian?' - -'I am wondering,' he cried, 'wondering! trying to pierce to your mind, -your peopled memory, your present occupation, your science. What do you -know? what have you heard? What have you seen? You, so young.... Who -are not young. How many secrets like the secret of Paul are buried away -in your heart? That you will never betray? Do you ever look forward -to the procession of your life? You, so young. I think you have some -extraordinary, instinctive, inherited wisdom, some ready-made heritage, -bequeathed to you by generations, that compensates for the deficiencies -of your own experience. Because you are so young. And so old, that I am -afraid.' - -'Poor Julian,' she murmured. A gulf of years lay between them, and she -spoke to him as a woman to a boy. He was profoundly shaken, while she -remained quiet, gently sarcastic, pitying towards him, who, so vastly -stronger than she, became a bewildered child upon her own ground. He -had seen death, but she had seen, toyed with, dissected the living -heart. She added, 'Don't try to understand. Forget me and be yourself. -You are annoying me.' - -She had spoken the last words with such impatience, that, torn from his -speculations, he asked,-- - -'Annoying you? Why?' - -After a short hesitation she gave him the truth,-- - -'I dislike seeing you at fault.' - -He passed to a further bewilderment. - -'I want you infallible.' - -Rousing herself from the chair where she had been indolently lying, she -said in the deepest tones of her contralto voice,-- - -'Julian, you think me worthless and vain; you condemn me as that -without the charity of any further thought. You are right to think me -heartless towards those I don't love. You believe that I spend my life -in vanity. Julian, I only ask to be taken away from my life; I have -beliefs, and I have creeds, both of my own making, but I'm like a ship -without a rudder. I'm wasting my life in vanity. I'm capable of other -things. I'm capable of the deepest good, I know, as well as of the most -shallow evil. Nobody knows, except perhaps Kato a little, how my real -life is made up of dreams and illusions that I cherish. People are far -more unreal to me than my own imaginings. One of my beliefs is about -you. You mustn't ever destroy it. I believe you could do anything.' - -'No, no,' he said, astonished. - -But she insisted, lit by the flame of her conviction. - -'Yes, anything. I have the profoundest contempt for the herd--to which -you don't belong. I have believed in you since I was a child; believed -in you, I mean, as something Olympian of which I was frightened. I have -always known that you would justify my faith.' - -'But I am ordinary, normal!' he said, defending himself. He mistrusted -her profoundly; wondered what attack she was engineering. Experience of -her had taught him to be sceptical. - -'Ah, don't you see, Julian, when I am sincere?' she said, her voice -breaking. 'I am telling you now one of the secrets of my heart, if you -only knew it. The gentle, the amiable, the pleasant--yes, they're my -toys. I'm cruel, I suppose. I'm always told so. I don't care; they're -worth nothing. It does their little souls good to pass through the -mill. But you, my intractable Julian....' - -'Kyrie,' said Nicolas, appearing, 'Tsantilas Tsigaridis, from Aphros, -asks urgently whether you will receive him?' - -'Bring him in,' said Julian, conscious of relief, for Eve's words had -begun to trouble him. - -Outside, the fireworks continued to flash like summer lightning. - - - - -VI - - -Tsigaridis came forward into the room, his fishing cap between his -fingers, and his white hair standing out in bunches of wiry curls round -his face. Determination was written in the set gravity of his features, -even in the respectful bow with which he came to a halt before Julian. -Interrupted in their conversation, Eve had fallen, back, half lying, in -her arm-chair, and Julian, who had been pacing up and down, stood still -with folded arms, a frown cleaving a deep valley between his brows. He -spoke to Tsigaridis,-- - -'You asked for me, Tsantilas?' - -'I am a messenger, Kyrie.' - -He looked from the young man to the girl, his age haughty towards their -youth, his devotion submissive towards the advantage of their birth. -He said to Julian, using almost the same words as he had used once -before,-- - -'The people of Aphros are the people of your people,' and he bowed -again. - -Julian had recovered his self-possession; he no longer felt dazed and -bewildered as he had felt before Eve. In speaking to Tsigaridis he -was speaking of things he understood. He knew very well the summons -Tsigaridis was bringing him, the rude and fine old man, single-sighted -as a prophet, direct and unswerving in the cause he had at heart. He -imagined, with almost physical vividness, the hand of the fisherman on -his shoulder, impelling him forward. - -'Kyrie,' Tsigaridis continued, 'to-day the flag of Herakleion flew from -the house of your honoured father until you with your own hand threw it -down. I was in Herakleion, where the news was brought to me, and there -is no doubt that by now it is known also on Aphros. Your action can be -interpreted only in one way. I know that to-day'--he crossed himself -devoutly--'Father Paul, who was our friend and yours, has met his -death; I break in upon your sorrow; I dared not wait; even death must -not delay me. Kyrie, I come to bring you back to Aphros.' - -'I will go to-night,' said Julian without hesitation. 'My father and -my uncle are in Herakleion, and I will start from here before they can -stop me. Have you a boat?' - -'I can procure one,' said Tsigaridis, very erect, and looking at Julian -with shining eyes. - -'Then I will meet you at the private jetty in two hours' time. We shall -be unnoted in the darkness, and the illuminations will be over by then.' - -'Assuredly,' said the fisherman. - -'We go in all secrecy,' Julian added. 'Tsantilas, listen: can you -distribute two orders for me by nightfall? I understand that you have -organised a system of communications?' - -The old man's face relaxed slowly from its stern dignity; it softened -into a mixture of slyness and pride and tenderness--the tenderness of a -father for his favourite child. Almost a smile struggled with his lips. -A strange contortion troubled his brows. Slowly and portentously, he -winked. - -'Then send word to Aphros,' said Julian, 'that no boat be allowed to -leave the Islands, and send word round the mainland recalling every -available islander. Is it possible? I know that every islander in -Herakleion to-night is sitting with boon companions in buried haunts, -talking, talking, talking. Call them together, Tsantilas.' - -'It will be done, Kyrie.' - -'And Madame Kato--she must be informed.' - -'Kyrie, she sends you a message that she leaves Herakleion by -to-night's train for Athens. When her work is done in Athens, she also -will return to Aphros.' - -Tsigaridis took a step forward and lifted Julian's hands to his lips as -was his wont. He bowed, and with his patriarchal gravity left the room. - -Julian in a storm of excitement flung himself upon his knees beside -Eve's chair. - -'Eve!' he cried. 'Oh, the wild adventure! Do you understand? It has -come at last. Paul--I had almost forgotten the Islands for him, and -now I must forget him for the Islands. Too much has happened to-day. -To-morrow all Herakleion will know that the Islands have broken away, -and that I and every islander are upon Aphros. They will come at first -with threats; they will send representatives. I shall refuse to retract -our declaration. Then they will begin to carry out their threats. -Panaïoannou--think of it!--will organise an attack with boats.' He -became sunk in practical thought, from which emerging he said more -slowly and carefully, 'They will not dare to bombard the island because -they know that Italy and Greece are watching every move, and with a -single man-of-war could blow the whole town of Herakleion higher than -Mount Mylassa. Kato will watch over us from Athens.... They will dare -to use no more than reasonable violence. And they will never gain a -footing.' - -Eve was leaning forward; she put both hands on his shoulders as he -knelt. - -'Go on talking to me,' she said, 'my darling.' - -In a low, intense voice, with unseeing eyes, he released all the flood -of secret thought that he had, in his life, expressed only to Paul and -to Kato. - -'I went once to Aphros, more than a year ago; you remember. They -asked me then, through Tsigaridis, whether I would champion them -if they needed championship. I said I would. Father was very angry. -He is incomprehensibly cynical about the Islands, so cynical that I -have been tempted to think him merely mercenary, anxious to live at -peace with Herakleion for the sake of his profits. He is as cynical as -Malteios, or any stay-in-power politician here. He read me a lecture -and called the people a lot of rebellious good-for-nothings. Eve, what -do I care? One thing is true, one thing is real: those people suffer. -Everything on earth is empty, except pain. Paul suffered, so much that -he preferred to die. But a whole people doesn't die. I went away to -England, and I put Herakleion aside, but at the bottom of my heart I -never thought of anything else; I knew I was bound to those people, and -I lived, I swear to you, with the sole idea that I should come back, -and that this adventure of rescue would happen some day exactly as it -is happening now. I thought of Kato and of Tsigaridis as symbolical, -almost mythological beings; my tutelary deities; Kato vigorous, and -Tsigaridis stern. Eve, I would rather die than read disappointment in -that man's eyes. I never made him many promises, but he must find me -better than my word.' - -He got up and walked once or twice up and down the room, beating his -fist against his palm and saying,-- - -'Whatever good I do in my life, will be done in the Islands.' - -He came back and stood by Eve. - -'Eve, yesterday morning when I rode over the hills I saw the Islands -lying out in the sea.... I thought of father, cynical and indifferent, -and of Stavridis, a self-seeker. I wondered whether I should grow into -that. I thought that in illusion lay the only loveliness.' - -'Ah, how I agree!' she said fervently. - -He dropped on his knees again beside her, and she put her fingers -lightly on his hair. - -'When Tsigaridis came, you were telling me that you believed in -me--Heaven knows why. For my part, I only believe that one can -accomplish when one has faith in a cause, and is blind to one's own -fate. And I believe that the only cause worthy of such faith, is the -redemption of souls from pain. I set aside all doubt. I will listen to -no argument, and I will walk straight towards the object I have chosen. -If my faith is an illusion, I will make that illusion into a reality by -the sheer force of my faith.' - -He looked up at Eve, whose eyes were strangely intent on him. - -'You see,' he said, fingering the fringe of her Spanish shawl, -'Herakleion is my battleground, and if I am to tilt against windmills -it must be in Herakleion. I have staked out Herakleion for my own, as -one stakes out a claim in a gold-mining country. The Islands are the -whole adventure of youth for me.' - -'And what am I?' she murmured to him. - -He looked at her without appearing to see her; he propped his elbow on -her knee, leant his chin in his palm, and went on talking about the -Islands. - -'I know that I am making the thing into a religion, but then I could -never live, simply drifting along. Aimless.... I don't understand -existence on those terms. I am quite prepared to give everything for -my idea; father can disinherit me, and I know I am very likely to be -killed. I don't care. I may be mistaken; I may be making a blunder, an -error of judgment. I don't care. Those people are mine. Those Islands -are my faith. I am blind.' - -'And you enjoy the adventure,' she said. - -'Of course, I enjoy the adventure. But there is more in it than -that,' he said, shaking his head; 'there is conviction, burnt into me. -Fanatical. Whoever is ready to pay the ultimate price for his belief, -has a right to that belief. Heaven preserve me,' he cried, showing his -fist, 'from growing like father, or Malteios, or Stavridis. Eve, you -understand.' - -She murmured again,-- - -'And what am I? What part have I got in this world of yours?' - -Again he did not appear to hear her, but making an effort to get up, he -said,-- - -'I promised to meet Tsantilas, and I must go,' but she pressed her -hands on his shoulders and held him down. - -'Stay a little longer. I want to talk to you.' - -Kneeling there, he saw at last that her mouth was very resolute and her -eyes full of a desperate decision. She sat forward in her chair, so -close to him that he felt the warmth of her body, and saw that at the -base of her throat a little pulse was beating quickly. - -'What is it, Eve?' - -'This,' she said, 'that if I let you go I may never see you again. How -much time have you?' - -He glanced at the heavy clock between the lapis columns. - -'An hour and a half.' - -'Give me half an hour.' - -'Do you want to stop me from going?' - -'Could I stop you if I tried?' - -'I should never listen to you.' - -'Julian,' she said, 'I rarely boast, as you know, but I am wondering -now how many people in Herakleion would abandon their dearest ideals -for me? If you think my boast is empty--remember Paul.' - -He paused for a moment, genuinely surprised by the point of view she -presented to him. - -'But I am different,' he said then, quite simply and with an air of -finality. - -She laughed a low, delighted laugh. - -'You have said it: you are different. Of course you are different. So -different, that you never notice me. People cringe to me--oh, I may say -this to you--but you, Julian, either you are angry with me or else you -forget me.' - -She looked at the clock, and for the first time a slight loss of -self-assurance came over her, surprising and attractive in her, who -seemed always to hold every situation in such contemptuous control. - -'Only half an hour,' she said, 'and I have to say to you all that which -I have been at such pains to conceal--hoping all the while that you -would force the gates of my concealment, trample on my hypocrisy!' - -Her eyes lost their irony and became troubled; she gazed at him -with the distress of a child. He was uneasily conscious of his own -embarrassment; he felt the shame of taking unawares the self-reliant -in a moment of weakness, the mingled delight and perplexity of the -hunter who comes suddenly upon the nymph, bare and gleaming, at the -edge of a pool. All instinct of chivalry urged him to retreat until -she should have recovered her self-possession. He desired to help her, -tender and protective; and again, relentlessly, he would have outraged -her reticence, forced her to the uttermost lengths of self-revelation, -spared her no abasement, enjoyed her humiliation. Simultaneously, he -wanted the triumph over her pride, the battle joined with a worthy foe; -and the luxury of comforting her new and sudden pathos, as he alone, -he knew, could comfort it. She summoned in him, uncivilised and wholly -primitive, a passion of tyranny and a passion of possessive protection. - -He yielded to the former, and continued to look at her in expectation, -without speaking. - -'Help me a little, Julian,' she murmured piteously, keeping her eyes -bent on her hands, which were lying in her lap. 'Look back a little, -and remember me. I can remember you so well: coming and going and -disregarding me, or furiously angry with me; very often unkind to me; -tolerant of me sometimes; negligently, insultingly, certain of me -always!' - -'We used to say that although we parted for months, we always came -together again.' - -She raised her eyes, grateful to him, as he still knelt on the floor in -front of her, but he was not looking at her; he was staring at nothing, -straight in front of him. - -'Julian,' she said, and spoke of their childhood, knowing that her best -hope lay in keeping his thoughts distant from the present evening. - -Her distress, which had been genuine, had passed. She had a vital game -to play, and was playing it with the full resources of her ability. She -swept the chords lightly, swift to strike again that chord which had -whispered in response. She bent a little closer to him. - -'I have always had this belief in you, of which I told you. You and I -both have in us the making of fanatics. We never have led, and never -should lead, the tame life of the herd.' - -She touched him with that, and regained command over his eyes, which -this time she held unswervingly. But, having forced him to look at her, -she saw a frown gathering on his brows; he sprang to his feet, and made -a gesture as if to push her from him. - -'You are playing with me; if you saw me lying dead on that rug you -would turn from me as indifferently as from Paul.' - -At this moment of her greatest danger, as he stood towering over her, -she dropped her face into her hands, and he looked down only upon the -nape of her neck and her waving hair. Before he could speak she looked -up again, her eyes very sorrowful under plaintive brows. - -'Do I deserve that you should say that to me? I never pretended to be -anything but indifferent to those I didn't love. I should have been -more hypocritical. You despise me now, so I pay the penalty of my own -candour. I have not the pleasant graces of a Fru Thyregod, Julian; -not towards you, that is. I wouldn't offer you the insult of an easy -philandering. I might make your life a burden; I might even kill you. -I know I have often been impossible towards you in the past. I should -probably be still more impossible in the future. If I loved you less, I -should, no doubt, love you better. You see that I am candid.' - -He was struck, and reflected: she spoke truly, there was indeed a -vein of candour which contradicted and redeemed the petty deceits and -untruthfulnesses which so exasperated and offended him. But he would -not admit his hesitation. - -'I have told you a hundred times that you are cruel and vain and -irredeemably worthless.' - -She answered after a pause, in the deep and wonderful voice which she -knew so well how to use,-- - -'You are more cruel than I; you hurt me more than I can say.' - -He resisted his impulse to renounce his words, to pretend that he had -chosen them in deliberate malice. As he said nothing, she added,-- - -'Besides, have I ever shown myself any of those things to you? I -haven't been cruel to you; I haven't even been selfish; you have no -right to find fault with me.' - -She had blundered; he flew into a rage. - -'Your damned feminine reasoning! Your damned personal point of view! I -can see well enough the fashion in which you treat other men. I don't -judge you only by your attitude towards myself.' - -Off her guard, she was really incapable of grasping his argument; she -tried to insist, to justify herself, but before his storm of anger she -cowered away. - -'Julian, how you frighten me.' - -'You only pretend to be frightened.' - -'You are brutal; you mangle every word I say,' she said hopelessly. - -He had reduced her to silence; he stood over her threateningly, much as -a tamer of wild beasts who waits for the next spring of the panther. -Desperate, her spirit flamed up again, and she cried,-- - -'You treat me monstrously; I am a fool to waste my time over you; I am -accustomed to quite different treatment.' - -'You are spoilt; you are accustomed to flattery--flattery which means -less than nothing,' he sneered, stamping upon her attempt at arrogance. - -'Ah, Julian!' she said, suddenly and marvellously melting, and -leaning forward she stretched out both hands towards him, so that he -was obliged to take them, and she drew him down to his knees once -more beside her, and smiled into his eyes, having taken command and -being resolved that no crisis of anger should again arise to estrange -them, 'I shall never have flattery from you, shall I? my turbulent, -impossible Julian, whose most meagre compliment I have treasured ever -since I can remember! but it is over now, my time of waiting for -you'--she still held his hands, and the smile with which she looked at -him transfigured all her face. - -He was convinced; he trembled. He strove against her faintly,-- - -'You choose your moment badly; you know that I must leave for Aphros.' - -'You cannot!' she cried in indignation. - -As his eyes hardened, she checked herself; she knew that for her -own safety she must submit to his will without a struggle. Spoilt, -irrational as she was, she had never before so dominated her caprice. -Her wits were all at work, quick slaves to her passion. - -'Of course you must go,' she said. - -She played with his fingers, her head bent low, and he was startled by -the softness of her touch. - -'What idle hands,' he said, looking at them; 'you were vain of them, as -a child.' - -But she did not wish him to dwell upon her vanity. - -'Julian, have I not been consistent, all my life? Are you taking me -seriously? Do you know that I am betraying all the truth? One hasn't -often the luxury of betraying all the truth. I could betray even -greater depths of truth, for your sake. Are you treating what I tell -you with the gravity it deserves? You must not make a toy of my secret. -I have no strength of character, Julian. I suppose, in its stead, I -have been given strength of love. Do you want what I offer you? Will -you take the responsibility of refusing it?' - -'Is that a threat?' he asked, impressed and moved. - -She shrugged slightly and raised her eyebrows; he thought he had never -so appreciated the wonderful mobility of her face. - -'I am nothing without the person I love. You have judged me yourself: -worthless--what else?--cruel, vain. All that is true. Hitherto I have -tried only to make the years pass by. Do you want me to return to such -an existence?' - -His natural vigour rebelled against her frailty. - -'You are too richly gifted, Eve, to abandon yourself to such slackness -of life.' - -'I told you I had no strength of character,' she said with bitterness, -'what are my gifts, such as they are, to me? You are the thing I want.' - -'You could turn your gifts to any account.' - -'With you, yes.' - -'No, independently of me or any other human being. One stands alone in -work. Work is impersonal.' - -'Nothing is impersonal to me,' she replied morosely, 'that's my -tragedy.' - -She flung out her hands. - -'Julian, I cherish such endless dreams! I loathe my life of petty -adventures; I undertake them only in order to forget the ideal which -until now has been denied me. I have crushed down the vision of life -with you, but always it has remained at the back of my mind, so wide, -so open, a life so free and so full of music and beauty, Julian! I -would work--for you. I would create--for you. I don't want to marry -you, Julian. I value my freedom above all things. Bondage is not for -you or me. But I'll come with you anywhere--to Aphros if you like.' - -'To Aphros?' he repeated. - -'Why not?' - -She put in, with extraordinary skill,-- - -'I belong to the Islands no less than you.' - -Privately she thought,-- - -'If you knew how little I cared about the Islands!' - -He stared at her, turning her words over in his mind. He was as -reckless as she, but conscientiously he suggested,-- - -'There may be danger.' - -'I am not really a coward, only in the unimportant things. And you -said yourself that they could never invade the island,' she added with -complete confidence in his statement. - -He dreamt aloud,-- - -'I have only just found her. This is Herakleion! She might, who knows? -be of use to Aphros.' - -She wondered which consideration weighed most heavily with him. - -'You were like my sister,' he said suddenly. - -She gave a rueful smile, but said nothing. - -'No, no!' he cried, springing up. 'This can never be; have you -bewitched me? Let me go, Eve; you have been playing a game with me.' - -She shook her head very slowly and tears gathered in her eyes. - -'Then the game is my whole life, Julian; put me to any test you choose -to prove my sincerity.' - -She convinced him against his will, and he resented it. - -'You have deceived me too often.' - -'I have been obliged to deceive you, because I could not tell you the -truth.' - -'Very plausible,' he muttered. - -She waited, very well acquainted with the vehemence of his moods and -reactions. She was rewarded; he said next, with laughter lurking in his -eyes,-- - -'Ever since I can remember, I have quarrelled with you several times a -day.' - -'But this evening we have no time to waste in quarrelling,' she -replied, relieved, and stretching out her hands to him again. As he -took them, she added in a low voice, 'You attract me fatally, my -refractory Julian.' - -'We will go to Aphros,' he said, 'as friends and colleagues.' - -'On any terms you choose to dictate,' she replied with ironical gravity. - -A flash of clear-sightedness pierced his attempt at self-deception; -he saw the danger into which they were deliberately running, he and -she, alone amidst fantastic happenings, living in fairyland, both -headstrong and impatient creatures, unaccustomed to forgo their whims, -much less their passions.... He was obliged to recognise the character -of the temple which stood at the end of the path they were treading, -and of the deity to whom it was dedicated; he saw the temple with the -eyes of his imagination as vividly as his mortal eyes would have seen -it: white and lovely amongst cypresses, shadowy within; they would -surely enter. Eve he certainly could not trust; could he trust himself? -His honesty answered no. She observed the outward signs of what was -passing in his mind, he started, he glanced at her, a look of horror -and vigorous repudiation crossed his face, his eyes dwelt on her, then -she saw--for she was quick to read him--by the slight toss of his head -that he had banished sagacity. - -'Come on to the veranda,' she said, tugging at his hand. - -They stood on the veranda, watching the lights in the distance; the -sky dripped with gold; balls of fire exploded into sheaves of golden -feathers, into golden fountains and golden rain; golden slashes like -the blades of scimitars cut across the curtain of night. Eve cried out -with delight. Fiery snakes rushed across the sky, dying in a shower -of sparks. At one moment the whole of the coast-line was lit up by a -violet light, which most marvellously gleamed upon the sea. - -'Fairyland!' cried Eve, clapping her hands. - -She had forgotten Aphros. She had forgotten Paul. - - -The fireworks were over. Tsigaridis pulled strongly and without haste -at his oars across a wide sea that glittered now like black diamonds -under the risen moon. The water rose and fell beneath the little boat -as gently and as regularly as the breathing of a sleeper. In a milky -sky, spangled with stars, the immense moon hung flat and motionless, -casting a broad path of rough silver up the blackness of the waters, -and illuminating a long stretch of little broken clouds that lay above -the horizon like the vertebræ of some gigantic crocodile. The light at -the tip of the pier showed green, for they saw it still from the side -of the land, but as they drew farther out to sea and came on a parallel -line with the light, they saw it briefly half green, half ruby; then, -as they passed it, looking back they saw only the ruby glow. Tsigaridis -rowed steadily, silently but for the occasional drip of the water -with the lifting of an oar, driving his craft away from the lights of -the mainland--the stretch of Herakleion along the coast--towards the -beckoning lights in the heart of the sea. - -For ahead of them clustered the little yellow lights of the -sheerly-rising village on Aphros; isolated lights, three or four -only, low down at the level of the harbour, then, after a dark -gap representing the face of the cliff, the lights in the houses, -irregular, tier above tier. But it was not to these yellow lights that -the glance was drawn. High above them all, upon the highest summit of -the island, flared a blood-red beacon, a fierce and solitary stain of -scarlet, a flame like a flag, like an emblem, full of hope as it leapt -towards the sky, full of rebellion as it tore its angry gash across -the night. In the moonlight the tiny islands of the group lay darkly -outlined in the sea, but the moonlight, placid and benign, was for -them without significance: only the beacon, insolently red beneath the -pallor of the moon, burned for them with a message that promised to all -men strife, to others death, and to the survivors liberty. - -The form of Aphros was no more than a silhouette under the moon, a -silhouette that rose, humped and shadowy, bearing upon its crest -that flower of flame; dawn might break upon an island of the purest -loveliness, colour blown upon it as upon the feathers of a bird, -fragile as porcelain, flushed as an orchard in blossom; to-night it -lay mysterious, unrevealed, with that single flame as a token of -the purpose that burned within its heart. Tenderness, loveliness, -were absent from the dark shape crowned by so living, so leaping an -expression of its soul. Here were resolution, anticipation, hope, -the perpetual hope of betterment, the undying chimera, the sublime -illusion, the lure of adventure to the rebel and the idealist alike. -The flame rang out like a bugle call in the night, its glare in the -darkness becoming strident indeed as the note of a bugle in the midst -of silence. - -A light breeze brushed the little boat as it drew away from the coast, -and Tsigaridis with a word of satisfaction shipped his oars and rose, -the fragile craft rocking as he moved; Eve and Julian, watching from -the prow, saw a shadow creep along the mast and the triangular shape of -a sail tauten itself darkly against the path of the moon. Tsigaridis -sank back into an indistinguishable block of intenser darkness in the -darkness at the bottom of the boat. A few murmured words had passed,-- - -'I will take the tiller, Tsigaridis.' - -'Malista, Kyrie,' and the silence had fallen again, the boat sailing -strongly before the breeze, the beacon high ahead, and the moon -brilliant in the sky. Eve, not daring to speak, glanced at Julian's -profile as she sat beside him. He was scowling. Had she but known, he -was intensely conscious of her nearness, assailed again with that now -familiar ghost, the ghost of her as he had once held her angrily in his -arms, soft, heavy, defenceless; and his fingers as they closed over the -tiller closed as delicately as upon the remembered curves of her body; -she had taken off her hat, and the scent of her hair reached him, -warm, personal she was close to him, soft, fragrant, silent indeed, -but mysteriously alive; the desire to touch her grew, like the desire -of thirst; life seemed to envelop him with a strange completeness. -Still a horror held him back: was it Eve, the child to whom he had -been brotherly? or Eve, the woman? but in spite of his revulsion--for -it was not his habit to control his desires--he changed the tiller to -the other hand, and his free arm fell round her shoulders; he felt -her instant yielding, her movement nearer towards him, her shortened -breath, the falling back of her head; he knew that her eyes were shut; -his fingers moulded themselves lingeringly round her throat; she -slipped still lower within the circle of his arm, and his hand, almost -involuntarily, trembled over the softness of her breast. - - - - -PART III--APHROS - - - - -I - - -In the large class-room of the school-house the dejected group of -Greek officials sat among the hideous yellow desks and benches of -the school-children of Aphros. Passion and indignation had spent -themselves fruitlessly during the preceding evening and night. To do -the islanders justice, the Greeks had not been treated with incivility. -But all demands for an interview with the highest authority were met -not only with a polite reply that the highest authority had not yet -arrived upon the island, but also a refusal to disclose his name. The -Greek officials, having been brought from their respective lodgings -to the central meeting-point of the school, had been given the run of -two class-rooms, one for the men, of whom there were, in all, twenty, -and one for the women, of whom there were only six. They were told -that they might communicate, but that armed guards would be placed in -both rooms. They found most comfort in gathering, the six-and-twenty -of them, in the larger class-room, while the guards, in their kilted -dresses, sat on chairs, two at each entrance, with suspiciously modern -and efficient-looking rifles laid across their knees. - -A large proportion of the officials were, naturally, those connected -with the school. They observed morosely that all notices in the -pure Greek of Herakleion had already been removed, also the large -lithographs of Malteios and other former Presidents, so that the walls -of pitch pine--the school buildings were modern, and of wood--were now -ornamented only with maps, anatomical diagrams, and some large coloured -plates published by some English manufacturing firm for advertisement; -there were three children riding a gray donkey, and another child -trying on a sun-bonnet before a mirror; but any indication of the -relationship of Aphros to Herakleion there was none. - -'It is revolution,' the postmaster said gloomily. - -The guards would not speak. Their natural loquacity was in -abeyance before the first fire of their revolutionary ardour. From -vine-cultivators they had become soldiers, and the unfamiliarity of the -trade filled them with self-awe and importance. Outside, the village -was surprisingly quiet; there was no shouting, no excitement; footsteps -passed rapidly to and fro, but they seemed to be the footsteps of men -bent on ordered business; the Greeks could not but be impressed and -disquieted by the sense of organisation. - -'Shall we be allowed to go free?' they asked the guards. - -'You will know when he comes,' was all the guards would reply. - -'Who is he?' - -'You will know presently.' - -'Has he still not arrived?' - -'He has arrived.' - -'We heard nothing; he must have arrived during the night.' - -To this they received no answer, nor any to their next remark,-- - -'Why so much mystery? It is, of course, the scatterbrained young -Englishman.' - -The guards silently shrugged their shoulders, as much as to say, that -any one, even a prisoner, had a right to his own opinion. - -The school clock pointed to nine when the first noise of agitation -began in the street. It soon became clear that a large concourse of -people was assembling in the neighbourhood of the school; a slight -excitement betrayed itself by some shouting and laughter, but a voice -cried 'Silence!' and silence was immediately produced. Those within the -school heard only the whisperings and rustlings of a crowd. They were -not extravagantly surprised, knowing the islanders to be an orderly, -restrained, and frugal race, their emotions trained into the sole -channel of patriotism, which here was making its supreme demand upon -their self-devotion. The Greeks threw wondering glances at the rifles -of the guards. Ostensibly school-teachers, post and telegraph clerks, -and custom-house officers, they were, of course, in reality the spies -of the government of Herakleion, and as such should have had knowledge -of the presence of such weapons on the island. They reflected that, -undesirable as was a prolonged imprisonment in the school-house, at the -mercy of a newly-liberated and probably rancorous population, a return -to Herakleion might prove a no less undesirable fate at the present -juncture. - -Outside, some sharp words of command were followed by the click of -weapons on the cobblestones; the postmaster looked at the chief -customs-house clerk, raised his eyebrows, jerked his head, and made -a little noise: 'Tcha!' against his teeth, as much as to say, 'The -deceitful villains! under our noses!' but at the back of his mind -was, 'No further employment, no pension, for any of us.' A burst of -cheering followed in the street. The voice cried 'Silence!' again, but -this time was disregarded. The cheering continued for some minutes, -the women's note joining in with the men's deep voices, and isolated -words were shouted, all with the maximum of emotion. The Greeks tried -to look out of the windows, but were prevented by the guards. Some -one in the street began to speak, when the cheering had died away, -but through the closed windows it was impossible to distinguish the -words. A moment's hush followed this speaking, and then another voice -began, reading impressively--it was obvious, from the unhesitating -and measured scansion, that he was reading. Sections of his address, -or proclamation, whichever it was, were received with deep growls of -satisfaction from the crowd. At one moment he was wholly interrupted -by repeated shouts of 'Viva! viva! viva!' and when he had made an end -thunderous shouts of approval shook the wooden building. The Greeks -were by now very pale; they could not tell whether this proclamation -did not contain some reference, some decision, concerning themselves. - -After the proclamation, another voice spoke, interrupted at every -moment by various cries of joy and delight, especially from the women; -the crowd seemed alternately rocked with enthusiasm, confidence, fire, -and laughter. The laughter was not the laughter of amusement so much -as the grim laughter of resolution and fraternity; an extraordinarily -fraternal and unanimous spirit seemed to prevail. Then silence again, -broken by voices in brief confabulation, and then the shifting of the -crowd which, to judge from the noise, was pressing back against the -school-buildings in order to allow somebody a passage down the street. - -The door opened, and Zapantiotis, appearing, announced,-- - -'Prisoners, the President.' - -The word created a sensation among the little herd of hostages, who, -for comfort and protection, had instinctively crowded together. They -believed themselves miraculously rescued, at least from the spite and -vengeance of the islanders, and expected to see either Malteios or -Stavridis, frock-coated and top-hatted, in the doorway. Instead, they -saw Julian Davenant, flushed, untidy, bareheaded, and accompanied by -two immense islanders carrying rifles. - -He paused and surveyed the little speechless group, and a faint smile -ran over his lips at the sight of the confused faces of his prisoners. -They stared at him, readjusting their ideas: in the first instance they -had certainly expected Julian, then for one flashing moment they had -expected the President of Herakleion, then they were confronted with -Julian. A question left the lips of the postmaster,-- - -'President of what?' - -Perhaps he was tempted madly to think that neither Malteios, nor -Stavridis, but Julian, had been on the foregoing day elected President -of Herakleion. - -Zapantiotis answered gravely,-- - -'Of the Archipelago of San Zacharie.' - -'Are we all crazy?' cried the postmaster. - -'You see, gentlemen,' said Julian, speaking for the first time, 'that -the folly of my grandfather's day has been revived.' - -He came forward and seated himself at the schoolmaster's desk, his -bodyguard standing a little behind him, one to each side. - -'I have come here,' he said, 'to choose amongst you one representative -who can carry to Herakleion the terms of the proclamation which -has just been read in the market-place outside. These terms must -be communicated to the present government. Zapantiotis, hand the -proclamation to these gentlemen.' - -The outraged Greeks came closer together to read the proclamation over -each other's shoulder; it set forth that the islands constituting -the Archipelago of San Zacharie, and including the important island -of Aphros, by the present proclamation, and after long years of -oppression, declared themselves a free and independent republic under -the presidency of Julian Henry Davenant, pending the formation of a -provisional government; that if unmolested they were prepared to live -in all peace and neighbourly good-fellowship with the republic of -Herakleion, but that if molested in any way they were equally prepared -to defend their shores and their liberty to the last drop of blood in -the last man upon the Islands. - -There was a certain nobleness in the resolute gravity of the wording. - -Julian wore a cryptic smile as he watched the Greeks working their -way through this document, which was in the Italianate Greek of the -Islands. Their fingers pointed certain paragraphs out to one another, -and little repressed snorts came from them, snorts of scorn and of -indignation, and glances were flung at Julian lounging indifferently -in the schoolmaster's chair. The doors had been closed to exclude the -crowd, and of the islanders, only Zapantiotis and the guards remained -in the room. Although it was early, the heat was beginning to make -itself felt, and the flies were buzzing over the window-panes. - -'If you have finished reading, gentlemen,' said Julian presently, 'I -shall be glad if you will decide upon a representative, as I have much -to attend to; a boat is waiting to take him and these ladies to the -shore.' - -Immense relief was manifested by the ladies. - -'This thing,' said the head of the school, hitting the proclamation -with his closed fingers, 'is madness; I beg you, young man--I know you -quite well--to withdraw before it is too late.' - -'I can have no argument; I give you five minutes to decide,' Julian -replied, laying his watch on the desk. - -His followers had no longer cause to fret against his indecision. - -Seeing him determined, the Greeks excitedly conferred; amongst them -the idea of self-preservation, rather than of self-immolation, -was obviously dominant. Herakleion, for all the displeasure of the -authorities, was, when it came to the point, preferable to Aphros -in the hands of the islanders and their eccentric, if not actually -bloodthirsty, young leader. The postmaster presented himself as senior -member of the group; the schoolmaster as the most erudite, therefore -the most fitted to represent his colleagues before the Senate; the head -clerk of the customs-house urged his claim as having the longest term -of official service. The conference degenerated into a wrangle. - -'I see, gentlemen, that I must take the decision out of your hands,' -Julian said at length, breaking in upon them, and appointed the -customs-house clerk. - -But in the market-place, whither the Greek representative and the women -of the party were instantly hurried, the silent throng of population -waited in packed and coloured ranks. The men stood apart, arms folded, -handkerchiefs bound about their heads under their wide straw hats--they -waited, patient, confident, unassuming. None of them was armed with -rifles, although many carried a pistol or a long knife slung at his -belt; the customs-house clerk, through all his confusion of mingled -terror and relief, noted the fact; if he delivered it at a propitious -moment, it might placate an irate Senate. No rifles, or, at most, eight -in the hands of the guards! Order would very shortly be restored in -Aphros. - -Nevertheless, that sense of organisation, of discipline, of which the -Greeks had been conscious while listening to the assembling of the -crowd through the boards of the school-house, was even more apparent -here upon the market-place. These islanders knew their business. A -small file of men detached itself as an escort for the representative -and the women. Julian came from the school at the same moment with -his two guards, grim and attentive, behind him. A movement of -respect produced itself in the crowd. The customs-house clerk and his -companions were not allowed to linger, but were marched away to the -steps which led down to the jetty. They carried away with them as their -final impression of Aphros the memory of the coloured throng and of -Julian, a few paces in advance, watching their departure. - - -The proclamation, the scene in the school-house, remained as the -prelude to the many pictures which populated Julian's memory, -interchangeably, of that day. He saw himself, speaking rarely, but, -as he knew, to much purpose, seated at the head of a table in the -village assembly-room, and, down each side of the table, the principal -men of the Islands, Tsigaridis and Zapantiotis on his either hand, -grave counsellors; he heard their speech, unreproducibly magnificent, -because a bodyguard of facts supported every phrase; because, in the -background, thronged the years of endurance and the patient, steadfast -hope. He heard the terms of the new constitution, and the oath of -resolution to which every man subscribed. With a swimming brain, and -his eyes fixed upon the hastily-restored portrait of his grandfather, -he heard the references to himself as head of the state--a state in -which the citizens numbered perhaps five thousand. He heard his own -voice, issuing orders whose wisdom was never questioned: no boat to -leave the Islands, no boats to be admitted to the port, without his -express permission, a system of sentries to be instantly instituted and -maintained, day and night. As he delivered these orders, men rose in -their places, assuming the responsibility, and left the room to execute -them without delay. - -He saw himself later, still accompanied by Tsigaridis and Zapantiotis, -but having rid himself of his two guards, in the interior of the -island, on the slopes where the little rough stone walls retained the -terraces, and where between the trunks of the olive-trees the sea -moved, blue and glittering, below. Here the island was dry and stony; -mule-paths, rising in wide, low steps, wandered up the slopes and lost -themselves over the crest of the hill. A few goats moved restlessly -among cactus and bramble-bushes, cropping at the prickly stuff, and -now and then raising their heads to bleat for the kids that, more -light-hearted because not under the obligation of searching for food -amongst the vegetation, leapt after one another, up and down, in a -happy chain on their little stiff certain legs from terrace to terrace. -An occasional cypress rose in a dark spire against the sky. Across the -sea, the town of Herakleion lay, white, curved, and narrow, with its -coloured sunblinds no bigger than butterflies, along the strip of coast -that Mount Mylassa so grudgingly allowed it. - -The stepped paths being impassable for carts, Tsigaridis had collected -ten mules with panniers, that followed in a string. Julian rode ahead -upon another mule; Zapantiotis walked, his tall staff in his hand, -and his dog at his heels. Julian remembered idly admiring the health -which enabled this man of sixty-five to climb a constantly-ascending -path under a burning sun without showing any signs of exhaustion. As -they went, the boy in charge of the mules droned out a mournful native -song which Julian recognised as having heard upon the lips of Kato. -The crickets chirped unceasingly, and overhead the seagulls circled -uttering their peculiar cry. - -They had climbed higher, finally leaving behind them the olive-terraces -and coming to a stretch of vines, the autumn vine-leaves ranging -through every shade of yellow, red, and orange; here, away from the -shade of the olives, the sun burned down almost unbearably, and the -stones of the rough walls were too hot for the naked hand to touch. -Here it was that the grapes were spread out, drying into currants--a -whole terrace heaped with grapes, over which a party of young men, -who sat playing at dice beneath a rough shelter made out of reeds and -matting, were mounting guard. - -Julian, knowing nothing of this business, and present only out -of interested curiosity, left the command to Zapantiotis. A few -stone-pines grew at the edge of the terrace; he moved his mule into -their shade while he watched. They had reached the summit of the -island--no doubt, if he searched far enough, he would come across the -ruins of last night's beacon, but he preferred to remember it as a -living thing rather than to stumble with his foot against ashes, gray -and dead; he shivered a little, in spite of the heat, at the thought -of that flame already extinguished--and from the summit he could look -down upon both slopes, seeing the island actually as an island, with -the sea below upon every side, and he could see the other islands of -the group, speckled around, some of them too tiny to be inhabited, -but all deserted now, when in the common cause every soul had been -summoned by the beacon, the preconcerted signal, to Aphros. He imagined -the little isolated boats travelling across the moonlit waters during -the night, as he himself had travelled; little boats, each under its -triangular sail, bearing the owner, his women, his children, and such -poor belongings as he could carry, making for the port or the creeks -of Aphros, relying for shelter upon the fraternal hospitality of the -inhabitants. No doubt they, like himself, had travelled with their eyes -upon the beacon.... - -The young men, grinning broadly and displaying a zest they would not -have contributed towards the mere routine of their lives, had left -their skeleton shelter and had fallen to work upon the heaps of drying -grapes with their large, purple-stained, wooden shovels. Zapantiotis -leant upon his staff beside Julian's mule. - -'See, Kyrie!' he had said. 'It was a crafty thought, was it not? Ah, -women! only a woman could have thought of such a thing.' - -'A woman?' - -'Anastasia Kato,' the overseer had replied, reverent towards the brain -that had contrived thus craftily for the cause, but familiar towards -the great singer--of whom distinguished European audiences spoke with -distant respect--as towards a woman of his own people. He probably, -Julian had reflected, did not know of her as a singer at all. - -Beneath the grapes rifles were concealed, preserved from the fruit by -careful sheets of coarse linen; rifles, gleaming, modern rifles, laid -out in rows; a hundred, two hundred, three hundred; Julian had no means -of estimating. - -He had dismounted and walked over to them; the young men were still -shovelling back the fruit, reckless of its plenty, bringing more -weapons and still more to light. He had bent down to examine more -closely. - -'Italian,' he had said then, briefly, and had met Tsigaridis' eye, had -seen the slow, contented smile which spread on the old man's face, and -which he had discreetly turned aside to conceal. - -Then Julian, with a glimpse of all those months of preparation, had -ridden down from the hills, the string of mules following his mule in -single file, the shining barrels bristling out of the panniers, and in -the market-place he had assisted, from the height of his saddle, at -the distribution of the arms. Two hundred and fifty, and five hundred -rounds of ammunition to each.... He thought of the nights of smuggling -represented there, of the catch of fish--the 'quick, shining harvest -of the sea'--beneath which lay the deadlier catch that evaded the eyes -of the customs-house clerks. He remembered the robbery at the casino, -and was illuminated. Money had not been lacking. - -These were not the only pictures he retained of that day; the affairs -to which he was expected to attend seemed to be innumerable; he had -sat for hours in the village assembly-room, while the islanders came -and went, surprisingly capable, but at the same time utterly reliant -upon him. Throughout the day no sign came from Herakleion. Julian grew -weary, and could barely restrain his thoughts from wandering to Eve. He -would have gone to her room before leaving the house in the morning, -but she had refused to see him. Consequently the thought of her had -haunted him all day. One of the messages which reached him as he sat in -the assembly-room had been from her: Would he send a boat to Herakleion -for Nana? - -He had smiled, and had complied, very much doubting whether the boat -would ever be allowed to return. The message had brought him, as -it were, a touch from her, a breath of her personality which clung -about the room long after. She was near at hand, waiting for him, so -familiar, yet so unfamiliar, so undiscovered. He felt that after a -year with her much would still remain to be discovered; that there -was, in fact, no end to her interest and her mystery. She was of no -ordinary calibre, she who could be, turn by turn, a delicious or -plaintive child, a woman of ripe seduction, and--in fits and starts--a -poet in whose turbulent and undeveloped talent he divined startling -possibilities! When she wrote poetry she smothered herself in ink, -as he knew; so mingled in her were the fallible and the infallible. -He refused to analyse his present relation to her; a sense, not of -hypocrisy, but of decency, held him back; he remembered all too -vividly the day he had carried her in his arms; his brotherliness had -been shocked, offended, but since then the remembrance had persisted -and had grown, and now he found himself, with all that brotherliness of -years still ingrained in him, full of thoughts and on the brink of an -adventure far from brotherly. He tried not to think these thoughts. He -honestly considered them degrading, incestuous. But his mood was ripe -for adventure; the air was full of adventure; the circumstances were -unparalleled; his excitement glowed--he left the assembly-room, walked -rapidly up the street, and entered the Davenant house, shutting the -door behind him. - -The sounds of the street were shut out, and the water plashed coolly -in the open courtyard; two pigeons walked prinking round the flat edge -of the marble basin, the male cooing and bowing absurdly, throwing out -his white chest, ruffling his tail, and putting down his spindly feet -with fussy precision. When Julian appeared, they fluttered away to the -other side of the court to resume their convention of love-making. -Evening was falling, warm and suave, and overhead in the still blue sky -floated tiny rosy clouds. In the cloisters round the court the frescoes -of the life of Saint Benedict looked palely at Julian, they so faded, -so washed-out, he so young and so full of strength. Their pallor taught -him that he had never before felt so young, so reckless, or so vigorous. - -He was astonished to find Eve with the son of Zapantiotis, learning -from him to play the flute in the long, low room which once had been -the refectory and which ran the full length of the cloisters. Deeply -recessed windows, with heavy iron gratings, looked down over the roofs -of the village to the sea. In one of these windows Eve leaned against -the wall holding the flute to her lips, and young Zapantiotis, eager, -handsome, showed her how to place her fingers upon the holes. She -looked defiantly at Julian. - -'Nico has rescued me,' she said; 'but for him I should have been alone -all day. I have taught him to dance.' She pointed to a gramophone upon -a table. - -'Where did that come from?' Julian said, determined not to show his -anger before the islander. - -'From the café,' she replied. - -'Then Nico had better take it back; they will need it.' Julian said, -threats in his voice, 'and he had better see whether his father cannot -find him employment; we have not too many men.' - -'You left me the whole day,' she said when Nico had gone; 'I am sorry I -came with you, Julian; I would rather go back to Herakleion; even Nana -has not come. I did not think you would desert me.' - -He looked at her, his anger vanished, and she was surprised when he -answered her gently, even amusedly,-- - -'You are always delightfully unexpected and yet characteristic of -yourself: I come back, thinking I shall find you alone, perhaps glad -to see me, having spent an unoccupied day, but no, I find you with the -best-looking scamp of the village, having learnt from him to play the -flute, taught him to dance, and borrowed a gramophone from the local -café!' - -He put his hands heavily upon her shoulders with a gesture she knew of -old. - -'I suppose I love you,' he said roughly, and then seemed indisposed to -talk of her any more, but told her his plans and arrangements, to which -she did not listen. - -They remained standing in the narrow window-recess, leaning, opposite -to one another, against the thick stone walls of the old Genoese -building. Through the grating they could see the sea, and, in the -distance, Herakleion. - -'It is sufficiently extraordinary,' he remarked, gazing across the bay, -'that Herakleion has made no sign. I can only suppose that they will -try force as soon as Panaïoannou can collect his army, which, as it was -fully mobilised no later than yesterday, ought not to take very long.' - -'Will there be fighting?' she asked, with a first show of interest. - -'I hope so,' he replied. - -'I should like you to fight,' she said. - -Swaying as he invariably did between his contradictory opinions of her, -he found himself inwardly approving her standpoint, that man, in order -to be worthy of woman, must fight, or be prepared to fight, and to -enjoy the fighting. From one so self-indulgent, so pleasure-loving, so -reluctant to face any unpleasantness of life, he might pardonably have -expected the less heroic attitude. If she resented his absence all day -on the business of preparations for strife, might she not equally have -resented the strife that called him from her side? He respected her -appreciation of physical courage, and remodelled his estimate to her -advantage. - -To his surprise, the boat he had sent for Nana returned from -Herakleion. It came, indeed, without Nana, but bearing in her place a -letter from his father:-- - - - 'DEAR JULIAN,--By the courtesy of M. Stavridis--by whose orders - this house is closely guarded, and for which I have to thank your - folly--I am enabled to send you this letter, conditional on M. - Stavridis's personal censorship. Your messenger has come with - your astonishing request that your cousin's nurse may be allowed - to return with the boat to Aphros. I should have returned with - it myself in the place of the nurse, but for M. Stavridis's very - natural objection to my rejoining you or leaving Herakleion. - - 'I am at present too outraged to make any comment upon your - behaviour. I try to convince myself that you must be completely - insane. M. Stavridis, however, will shortly take drastic steps - to restore you to sanity. I trust only that no harm will befall - you--for I remember still that you are my son--in the process. - In the meantime, I demand of you most urgently, in my own name - and that of your uncle and aunt, that you will send back your - cousin without delay to Herakleion. M. Stavridis has had the great - kindness to give his consent to this. A little consideration will - surely prove to you that in taking her with you to Aphros you - have been guilty of a crowning piece of folly from every point of - view. I know you to be headstrong and unreflecting. Try to redeem - yourself in this one respect before it is too late. - - 'I fear that I should merely be wasting my time by attempting to - dissuade you from the course you have chosen with regard to the - Islands. My poor misguided boy, do you not realise that your effort - is _bound_ to end in disaster, and will serve but to injure those - you most desire to help? - - 'I warn you, too, most gravely and solemnly, that your obstinacy - will entail _very serious consequences_ for yourself. I shall - regret the steps I contemplate taking, but I have the interest of - our family to consider, and I have your uncle's entire approval. - - 'I am very deeply indebted to M. Stavridis, who, while unable to - neglect his duty as the first citizen of Herakleion, has given me - every proof of his personal friendship and confidence. - - W. DAVENANT.' - - -Julian showed this letter to Eve. - -'What answer shall you send?' - -'This,' he replied, tearing it into pieces. - -'You are angry. Oh, Julian, I love you for being reckless.' - -'I see red. He threatens me with disinheriting me. He takes good care -to remain in Stavridis' good books himself. Do you want to go back?' - -'No, Julian.' - -'Of course, father is quite right: I am insane, and so are you. But, -after all, you will run no danger, and as far compromising you, that -is absurd: we have often been alone together before now. Besides,' he -added brutally, 'you said yourself you belonged to the Islands no less -than I; you can suffer for them a little if necessary.' - -'I make no complaint,' she said with an enigmatic smile. - -They dined together near the fountain in the courtyard, and overhead -the sky grew dark, and the servant brought lighted candles for the -table. Julian spoke very little; he allowed himself the supreme luxury -of being spoilt by a woman who made it her business to please him; -observing her critically, appreciatively; acknowledging her art; noting -with admiration how the instinct of the born courtesan filled in the -gaps in the experience of the child. He was, as yet, more mystified by -her than he cared to admit. - -But he yielded himself to her charm. The intimacy of this meal, their -first alone together, enveloped him more and more with the gradual -sinking of night, and his observant silence, which had originated -with the deliberate desire to test her skill and also to indulge his -own masculine enjoyment, insensibly altered into a shield against the -emotion which was gaining him. The servant had left them. The water -still plashed into the marble basin. The candles on the table burned -steadily in the unruffled evening, and under their light gleamed -the wine--rough, native wine, red and golden--in the long-necked, -transparent bottles, and the bowl of fruit: grapes, a cut melon, and -bursting figs, heaped with the lavishness of plenty. The table was a -pool of light, but around it the court and cloisters were full of dim, -mysterious shadows. - -Opposite Julian, Eve leaned forward, propping her bare elbows on the -table, disdainfully picking at the fruit, and talking. He looked at -her smooth, beautiful arms, and little white hands that he had always -loved. He knew that he preferred her company to any in the world. Her -humour, her audacity, the width of her range, the picturesqueness of -her phraseology, her endless inventiveness, her subtle undercurrent -of the personal, though 'you' or 'I' might be entirely absent from -her lips all seemed to him wholly enchanting. She was a sybarite of -life, an artist; but the glow and recklessness of her saved her from -all taint of intellectual sterility. He knew that his life had been -enriched and coloured by her presence in it; that it would, at any -moment, have become a poorer, a grayer, a less magical thing through -the loss of her. He shut his eyes for a second as he realised that -she could be, if he chose, his own possession, she the elusive and -unattainable; he might claim the redemption of all her infinite -promise; might discover her in the rôle for which she was so obviously -created; might violate the sanctuary and tear the veils from the wealth -of treasure hitherto denied to all; might exact for himself the first -secrets of her unplundered passion. He knew her already as the perfect -companion, he divined her as the perfect mistress; he reeled and shrank -before the unadmitted thought, then looked across at her where she sat -with an open fig half-way to her lips, and knew fantastically that they -were alone upon an island of which he was all but king. - -'A deserted city,' she was saying, 'a city of Portuguese settlers; pink -marble palaces upon the edge of the water; almost crowded into the -water by the encroaching jungle; monkeys peering through their ruined -windows; on the sand, great sleepy tortoises; and, twining in and out -of the broken doorways of the palaces, orchids and hibiscus--that -is Trincomali! Would you like the tropics, I wonder, Julian? their -exuberance, their vulgarity?... One buys little sacks full of precious -stones; one puts in one's hand, and lets the sapphires and the rubies -and the emeralds run through one's fingers.' - -Their eyes met; and her slight, infrequent confusion overcame her.... - -'You aren't listening,' she murmured. - -'You were only fifteen when you went to Ceylon,' he said, gazing at the -blue smoke of his cigarette. 'You used to write to me from there. You -had scarlet writing-paper. You were a deplorably affected child.' - -'Yes,' she said, 'the only natural thing about me was my affectation.' - -They laughed, closely, intimately. - -'It began when you were three,' he said, 'and insisted upon always -wearing brown kid gloves; your voice was even deeper then than it is -now, and you always called your father Robert.' - -'You were five; you used to push me into the prickly pear.' - -'And you tried to kill me with a dagger; do you remember?' - -'Oh, yes,' she said quite gravely, 'there was a period when I always -carried a dagger.' - -'When you came back from Ceylon you had a tiger's claw.' - -'With which I once cut my initials on your arm.' - -'You were very theatrical.' - -'You were very stoical.' - -Again they laughed. - -'When you went to Ceylon,' he said, 'one of the ship's officers fell in -love with you; you were very much amused.' - -'The only occasion, I think, Julian, when I ever boasted to -you of such a thing? You must forgive me--il ne faut pas m'en -vouloir--remember I was only fifteen.' - -'Such things amuse you still,' he said jealously. - -'C'est possible,' she replied. - -He insisted,-- - -'When did you really become aware of your own heartlessness?' - -She sparkled with laughter. - -'I think it began life as a sense of humour,' she said, 'and -degenerated gradually into its present state of spasmodic infamy.' - -He had smiled, but she saw his face suddenly darken, and he got up -abruptly, and stood by the fountain, turning his back on her. - -'My God,' she thought to herself in terror, 'he has remembered Paul.' - -She rose also, and went close to him, slipping her hand through his -arm, endeavouring to use, perhaps unconsciously, the powerful weapon of -her physical nearness. He did not shake away her hand, but he remained -unresponsive, lost in contemplation of the water. She hesitated as to -whether she should boldly attack the subject--she knew her danger; he -would be difficult to acquire, easy to lose, no more tractable than a -young colt--then in the stillness of the night she faintly heard the -music of the gramophone playing in the village café. - -'Come into the drawing-room and listen to the music, Julian,' she said, -pulling at his arm. - -He came morosely; they exchanged the court with its pool of light -for the darkness of the drawing-room; she felt her way, holding his -hand, towards a window seat; sat down, and pulled him down beside her; -through the rusty iron grating they saw the sea, lit up by the rising -moon. - -'We can just hear the music,' she whispered. - -Her heart was beating hard and fast: they had been as under a spell, -so close were they to one another, but now she was bitterly conscious -of having lost him. She knew that he had slipped from the fairyland of -Aphros back to the world of principles, of morals both conventional and -essential. In fairyland, whither she had enticed him, all things were -feasible, permissible, even imperative. He had accompanied her, she -thought, very willingly, and they had strayed together down enchanted -paths, abstaining, it is true, from adventuring into the perilous -woods that surrounded them, but hand in hand, nevertheless, their -departure from the path potential at any rate, if not imminent. They -had been alone; she had been so happy, so triumphant. Now he had fled -her, back to another world inhabited by all the enemies she would have -had him forget: her cruelties, her vanities--her vanities! he could -never reconcile her vanities and her splendour; he was incapable of -seeing them both at the same time; the one excluded the other, turn -and turn about, in his young eyes; her deceptions, her evasions of -the truth, the men she had misled, the man, above all, that she had -killed and whose death she had accepted with comparative indifference. -These things rose in a bristling phalanx against her, and she faced -them, small, afraid, and at a loss. For she was bound to admit their -existence, and the very vivid, the very crushing, reality of their -existence, all-important to her, in Julian's eyes; although she -herself might be too completely devoid of moral sense, in the ordinary -acceptance of the word, to admit any justification for his indignation. -She knew with sorrow that they would remain for ever as a threat in -the background, and that she would be fortunate indeed if in that -background she could succeed in keeping them more or less permanently. -Her imagination sighed for a potion of forgetfulness. Failing that, -never for an instant must she neglect her rôle of Calypso. She knew -that on the slightest impulse to anger on Julian's part--and his -impulses to anger were, alas, both violent and frequent--all those -enemies in their phalanx would instantly rise and range themselves on -his side against her. Coaxed into abeyance, they would revive with -fatal ease. - -She knew him well in his present mood of gloom. She was afraid, and a -desperate anxiety to regain him possessed her. Argument, she divined, -would be futile. She whispered his name. - -He turned on her a face of granite. - -'Why have you changed?' she said helplessly. 'I was so happy, and you -are making me so miserable.' - -'I have no pity for you,' he said, 'you are too pitiless yourself to -deserve any.' - -'You break my heart when you speak to me like that.' - -'I should like to break it,' he replied, unmoved. - -She did not answer, but presently he heard her sobbing. Full of -suspicion, he put out his hand and felt the tears running between her -fingers. - -'I have made you cry,' he said. - -'Not for the first time,' she answered. - -She knew that he was disconcerted, shaken in his harshness, and added,-- - -'I know what you think of me sometimes, Julian. I have nothing to say -in my own defence. Perhaps there is only one good thing in me, but that -you must promise me never to attack.' - -'What is it?' - -'You sound very sceptical,' she answered wistfully. 'My love for you; -let us leave it at that.' - -'I wonder!' he said; and again, 'I wonder!...' - -She moved a little closer to him, and leaned against him, so that her -hair brushed his cheek. Awkwardly and absent-mindedly, he put his arms -round her; he could feel her heart beating through her thin muslin -shirt, and lifting her bare arm in his hand he weighed it pensively; -she lay against him, allowing him to do as he pleased; physically he -held her nearer, but morally he was far away. Humiliating herself, she -lay silent, willing to sacrifice the pride of her body if therewith -she might purchase his return. But he, awaking with a start from -his brooding grievances, put her away from him. If temptation was -to overcome him, it must rush him by assault; not thus, sordid and -unlit.... He rose, saying,-- - -'It is very late; you must go to bed; good-night.' - - - - -II - - -Panaïoannou attempted a landing before sunrise on the following day. - -A few stars were still visible, but the moon was paling, low in the -heavens, and along the eastern horizon the sky was turning rosy and -yellow above the sea. Earth, air, and water were alike bathed in purity -and loveliness. Julian, hastily aroused, remembered the Islands as he -had seen them from the mainland on the day of Madame Lafarge's picnic. -In such beauty they were lying now, dependent on his defence.... -Excited beyond measure, he dressed rapidly, and as he dressed he heard -the loud clanging of the school bell summoning the men to arms; he -heard the village waking, the clatter of banging doors, of wooden soles -upon the cobbles, and excited voices. He rushed from his room into the -passage, where he met Eve. - -She was very pale, and her hair was streaming round her shoulders. She -clung to him. - -'Oh, Julian, what is it? why are they ringing the bells? why are you -dressed? where are you going?' - -He explained, holding her, stroking her hair. - -'Boats have been sighted, setting out from Herakleion; I suppose they -think they will take us by surprise. You know, I have told off two men -to look after you; you are to go into the little hut which is prepared -for you in the very centre of the island. They will never land, and you -will be perfectly safe there. I will let you know directly they are -driven off. You must let me go, darling.' - -'Oh, but you? but you?' she cried desperately. - -'They won't come near me,' he replied laughing. - -'Julian, Julian,' she said, holding on to his coat as he tried to -loosen her fingers, 'Julian, I want you to know: you're all my life, I -give you myself, on whatever terms you like, for ever if you like, for -a week if you like; you can do with me whatever you choose; throw me -away when you've done with me; you think me worthless; I care only for -you in the world.' - -He was astonished at the starkness and violence of the passion in her -eyes and voice. - -'But I am not going into any danger,' he said, trying to soothe her. - -'For God's sake, kiss me,' she said, distraught, and seeing that he was -impatient to go. - -'I'll kiss you to-night,' he answered tempestuously, with a ring of -triumph as one who takes a decision. - -'No, no: now.' - -He kissed her hair, burying his face in its thickness. - -'This attack is a comedy, not a tragedy,' he called back to her as he -ran down the stairs. - - -The sentry who had first sighted the fleet of boats was still standing -upon his headland, leaning on his rifle, and straining his eyes over -the sea. Julian saw him thus silhouetted against the morning sky. Day -was breaking as Julian came up the mule-path, a score of islanders -behind him, walking with the soft, characteristic swishing of their -white woollen skirts, and the slight rattle of slung rifles. All paused -at the headland, which was above a little rocky creek; the green and -white water foamed gently below. Out to sea the boats were distinctly -visible, dotted about the sea, carrying each a load of men; there might -be twenty or thirty, with ten or fifteen men in each. - -'They must be out of their senses,' Tsigaridis growled; 'their only -hope would have lain in a surprise attack at night--which by the -present moonlight would indeed have proved equally idle--but at present -they but expose themselves to our butchery.' - -'The men are all at their posts?' Julian asked. - -'Malista, Kyrie, malista.' They remained for a little watching the -boats as the daylight grew. The colours of the dawn were shifting, -stretching, widening, and the water, turning from iron-gray to violet, -began along the horizon to reflect the transparency of the sky. The -long, low, gray clouds caught upon their edges an orange flush; a -sudden bar of gold fell along the line where sky and water met; a -drift of tiny clouds turned red like a flight of flamingoes; and the -blue began insensibly to spread, pale at first, then deepening as the -sun rose out of the melting clouds and flooded over the full expanse -of sea. To the left, the coast of the mainland, with Mount Mylassa -soaring, and Herakleion at its base, broke the curve until it turned -at an angle to run northward. Smoke began to rise in steady threads of -blue from the houses of Herakleion. The red light died away at the tip -of the pier. The gulls circled screaming, flashes of white and gray, -marbled birds; and beyond the thin line of foam breaking against the -island the water was green in the shallows. - -All round Aphros the islanders were lying in pickets behind defences, -the naturally rocky and shelving coast affording them the command -of every approach. The port, which was the only really suitable -landing-place, was secure, dominated as it was by the village; no boat -could hope to live for five minutes under concentrated rifle fire from -the windows of the houses. The other possible landing-places--the -creeks and little beaches--could be held with equal ease by half a -dozen men with rifles lying under shelter upon the headlands or on -the ledges of the rocks. Julian was full of confidence. The danger -of shelling he discounted, firstly because Herakleion possessed no -man-of-war, or, indeed, any craft more formidable than the police -motor-launch, and secondly because the authorities in Herakleion -knew well enough that Italy, for reasons of her own, neither wholly -idealistic nor disinterested, would never tolerate the complete -destruction of Aphros. Moreover, it would be hopeless to attempt to -starve out an island whose population lived almost entirely upon the -fish caught round their own shores, the vegetables and fruit grown upon -their own hillsides, the milk and cheeses from their own rough-feeding -goats, and the occasional but sufficient meat from their own sheep and -bullocks. - -'Kyrie,' said Tsigaridis, 'should we not move into shelter?' - -Julian abandoned the headland regretfully. For his own post he -had chosen the Davenant house in the village. He calculated that -Panaïoannou, unaware of the existence of a number of rifles on the -island, would make his first and principal attempt upon the port, -expecting there to encounter a hand to hand fight with a crowd -diversely armed with knives, stones, pitchforks, and a few revolvers--a -brief, bloody, desperate resistance, whose term could be but a matter -of time, after which the village would fall into the hands of the -invaders and the rebellion would be at an end. At most, Panaïoannou -would argue, the fighting would be continued up into the main street of -the village, the horizontal street that was its backbone, terminating -at one end by the market-place above the port, and at the other by the -Davenants' house; and ramifications of fighting--a couple of soldiers -here and there pursuing a fleeing islander--up the sloping, narrow, -stepped streets running between the houses, at right angles from the -main street, up the hill. Julian sat with his rifle cocked across his -knees in one of the window recesses of his own house, and grinned as -he anticipated Panaïoannou's surprise. He did not want a massacre of -the fat, well-meaning soldiers of Herakleion--the casino, he reflected, -must be closed to-day, much to the annoyance of the gambling dagos; -however, they would have excitement enough, of another kind, to console -them--he did not want a massacre of the benevolent croupier-soldiers he -had seen parading the _platia_ only two days before, but he wanted them -taught that Aphros was a hornets' nest out of which they had better -keep their fingers. He thought it extremely probable that after a first -repulse they would refuse to renew the attack. They liked well enough -defiling across the _platia_ on Independence Day, and recognising their -friends amongst the admiring crowd, but he doubted whether they would -appreciate being shot down in open boats by an enemy they could not -even see. - -In the distance, from the windows of his own house, he heard firing, -and from the advancing boats he could see spurts of smoke. He discerned -a commotion in one boat; men got up and changed places, and the -boat turned round and began to row in the opposite direction. Young -Zapantiotis called to him from another window,-- - -'You see them, Kyrie? Some one has been hit.' - -Julian laughed exultantly. On a table near him lay a crumpled -handkerchief of Eve's, and a gardenia; he put the flower into his -buttonhole. Behind all his practical plans and his excitement lay the -memory of his few words with her in the passage; under the stress of -her emotion she had revealed a depth and vehemence of truth that he -hitherto scarcely dared to imagine. To-day would be given to him surely -more than his fair share for any mortal man: a fight, and the most -desirable of women! He rejoiced in his youth and his leaping blood. Yet -he continued sorry for the kindly croupier-soldiers. - -The boats came on, encouraged by the comparative silence on the -island. Julian was glad it was not the fashion among the young men of -Herakleion, his friends, to belong to the army. He wondered what Grbits -was thinking of him. He was probably on the quay, watching through a -telescope. Or had the expedition been kept a secret from the still -sleeping Herakleion? Surely! for he could distinguish no crowd upon the -distant quays across the bay. - -A shot rang out close at hand, from some window of the village, and in -one of the foremost boats he saw a man throw up his hands and fall over -backwards. - -He sickened slightly. This was inevitable, he knew, but he had no lust -for killing in this cold-blooded fashion. Kneeling on the window-seat -he took aim between the bars of the grating, and fired a quantity of -shots all round the boat; they splashed harmlessly into the water, but -had the effect he desired; the boat turned round in retreat. - -Firing crackled now from all parts of the island. The casualties in -the boats increased. In rage and panic the soldiers fired wildly back -at the island, especially at the village; bullets ping-ed through the -air and rattled on the roofs; occasionally there came a crash of broken -glass. Once Julian heard a cry, and, craning his head to look down the -street, he saw an islander lying on his face on the ground between -the houses with his arms outstretched, blood running freely from his -shoulder and staining his white clothes. - -'My people!' Julian cried in a passion, and shot deliberately into a -boat-load of men. - -'God!' he said to himself a moment later, 'I've killed him.' - -He laid down his rifle with a gesture of horror, and went out into -the courtyard where the fountain still played and the pigeons prinked -and preened. He opened the door into the street, went down the steps -and along the street to where the islander lay groaning, lifted him -carefully, and dragged him into the shelter of the house. Zapantiotis -met him in the court. - -'Kyrie,' he said, scared and reproachful, 'you should have sent me.' - -Julian left him to look after the wounded man, and returned to -the window; the firing had slackened, for the boats were now -widely dispersed over the sea, offering only isolated targets at a -considerable distance. Time had passed rapidly, and the sun had climbed -high overhead. He looked at the little dotted boats, bearing their -burden of astonishment, death, and pain. Was it possible that the -attack had finally drawn away? - -At that thought, he regretted that the fighting had not given an -opportunity of a closer, a more personal struggle. - -An hour passed. He went out into the village, where life was beginning -to flow once more into the street and market-place; the villagers came -out to look at their broken windows, and their chipped houses; they -were all laughing and in high good-humour, pointing proudly to the -damage, and laughing like children to see that in the school-house, -which faced the sea and in which the remaining Greek officials were -still imprisoned, nearly all the windows were broken. Julian, shaking -off the people, men and women, who were trying to kiss his hands or his -clothes, appeared briefly in the class-room to reassure the occupants. -They were all huddled into a corner, behind a barricade of desks and -benches. The one guard who had been left with them had spent his time -inventing terrible stories for their distress. The wooden wall opposite -the windows was pocked in two or three places by bullets. - -As Julian came out again into the market-place he saw old Tsigaridis -riding down on his great white mule from the direction of the hills, -accompanied by two runners on foot. He waited while the mule picked its -way carefully and delicately down the stepped path that led from the -other side of the market-place up into the interior of the island. - -'They are beaten off, Tsantilas.' - -'No imprudences,' said the grave old man, and recommended to the -people, who came crowding round his mule, to keep within the shelter of -their houses. - -'But, Tsantilas, we have the boats within our sight; they cannot return -without our knowledge in ample time to seek shelter.' - -'There is one boat for which we cannot account--the motor-boat--it -is swift and may yet take us by surprise,' Tsigaridis replied -pessimistically. - -He dismounted from his mule, and walked up the street with Julian -by his side, while the people, crestfallen, dispersed with lagging -footsteps to their respective doorways. The motor-launch, it would -appear, had been heard in the far distance, 'over there,' said -Tsigaridis, extending his left arm; the pickets upon the eastern coasts -of the island had distinctly heard the echo of its engines--it was, -fortunately, old and noisy--but early in the morning the sound had -ceased, and since then had not once been renewed. Tsigaridis inferred -that the launch was lying somewhere in concealment amongst the tiny -islands, from where it would emerge, unexpectedly and in an unexpected -place, to attack. - -'It must carry at least fifty men,' he added. - -Julian revelled in the news. A motor-launch with such a crew would -provide worthier game than little cockleshell rowing-boats. Panaïoannou -himself might be of the party. Julian saw the general already as his -prisoner. - -He remembered Eve. So long as the launch lay in hiding he could not -allow her to return to the village. It was even possible that they -might have a small gun on board. He wanted to see her, he ached with -the desire to see her, but, an instinctive Epicurean, he welcomed the -circumstances that forced him to defer their meeting until nightfall.... - -He wrote her a note on a leaf of his pocket-book, and despatched it to -her by one of Tsigaridis' runners. - -The hours of waiting fretted him, and to ease his impatience he started -on a tour of the island with Tsigaridis. They rode on mules, nose to -tail along the winding paths, not climbing up into the interior, but -keeping to the lower track that ran above the sea, upon the first flat -ledge of the rock, all around the island. In some places the path -was so narrow and so close to the edge that Julian could, by leaning -sideways in his saddle, look straight down the cliff into the water -swirling and foaming below. He was familiar with almost every creek, so -often had he bathed there as a boy. Looking at the foam, he murmured to -himself,-- - -'Aphros....' - -There were no houses here among the rocks, and no trees, save for an -occasional group of pines, whose little cones clustered among the -silvery branches, quite black against the sky. Here and there, above -creeks or the little sandy beaches where a landing for a small boat -would have been possible, the picket of islanders had come out from -their shelter behind the boulders, and were sitting talking on the -rocks, holding their rifles upright between their knees, while a -solitary sentinel kept watch at the extremity of the point, his kilted -figure white as the circling seagulls or as the foam. A sense of lull -and of siesta lay over the afternoon. At every picket Julian asked the -same question, and at every picket the same answer was returned,-- - -'We have heard no engines since earliest morning, Kyrie.' - -Round the curve of the island, the first tiny, uninhabited islands -came into view. Some of them were mere rocks sticking up out of the -sea; others, a little larger, grew a few trees, and a boat could have -hidden, invisible from Aphros, on their farther side. Julian looked -longingly at the narrow stretches of water which separated them. He -even suggested starting to look for the launch. - -'It would be madness, Kyrie.' - -Above a little bay, where the ground sloped down less abruptly, and -where the sand ran gently down under the thin wavelets, they halted -with the picket of that particular spot. Their mules were led away -by a runner. Julian enjoyed sitting amongst these men, hearing them -talk, and watching them roll cigarette after cigarette with the -practised skill of their knotty fingers. Through the sharp lines of -their professional talk, and the dignity of their pleasant trades--for -they were all fishermen, vintagers, or sheep and goat-herds--he smiled -to the hidden secret of Eve, and fancied that the soft muslin of her -garments brushed, as at the passage of a ghost, against the rude -woollen garments of the men; that her hands, little and white and idle, -fluttered over their hardened hands; that he alone could see her pass -amongst their group, smile to him, and vanish down the path. He was -drowsy in the drowsy afternoon; he felt that he had fought and had -earned his rest, and, moreover, was prepared to rise from his sleep -with new strength to fight again. Rest between a battle and a battle. -Strife, sleep, and love; love, sleep, and strife; a worthy plan of life! - -He slept. - -When he woke the men still sat around him, talking still of their -perennial trades, and without opening his eyes he lay listening to -them, and thought that in such a simple world the coming and going of -generations was indeed of slight moment, since in the talk of crops -and harvests, of the waxing and waning of moons, of the treachery of -the sea or the fidelity of the land, the words of the ancestor might -slip unchanged as an inheritance to grandson and great-grandson. Of -such kindred were they with nature, that he in his half-wakefulness -barely distinguished the voices of the men from the wash of waves on -the shore. He opened his eyes. The sun, which he had seen rising out -of the sea in the dawn, after sweeping in its great flaming arc across -the sky, had sunk again under the horizon. Heavy purple clouds like -outpoured wine stained the orange of the west. The colour of the sea -was like the flesh of a fig. - -Unmistakably, the throb of an engine woke the echoes between the -islands. - -All eyes met, all voices hushed; tense, they listened. The sound grew; -from a continuous purr it changed into separate beats. By mutual -consent, and acting under no word of command, the men sought the cover -of their boulders, clambering over the rocks, carrying their rifles -with them, white, noiseless, and swift. Julian found himself with three -others in a species of little cave the opening of which commanded the -beach; the cave was low, and they were obliged to crouch; one man knelt -down at the mouth with his rifle ready to put to his shoulder. Julian -could smell, in that restricted place, the rough smell of their woollen -clothes, and the tang of the goat which clung about one man, who must -be a goat-herd. - -Then before their crouching position could begin to weary them, the -beat of the engines became insistent, imminent; and the launch shot -round the curve, loaded with standing men, and heading directly for -the beach. A volley of fire greeted them, but the soldiers were -already overboard, waist-deep in water, plunging towards the shore with -their rifles held high over their heads, while the crew of the launch -violently reversed the engines and drove themselves off the sand by -means of long poles, to save the launch from an irrevocable grounding. -The attack was well planned, and executed by men who knew intimately -the lie of the coast. With loud shouts, they emerged dripping from the -water on to the beach. - -They were at least forty strong; the island picket numbered only a -score, but they had the advantage of concealment. A few of the soldiers -dropped while yet in the water; others fell forward on to their faces -with their legs in the water and their heads and shoulders on dry land; -many gained a footing but were shot down a few yards from the edge of -the sea; the survivors flung themselves flat behind hummocks of rock -and fired in the direction of the defending fire. Everything seemed to -have taken place within the compass of two or three minutes. Julian had -himself picked off three of the invaders; his blood was up, and he had -lost all the sickening sense of massacre he had felt during the early -part of the day. - -He never knew how the hand to hand fight actually began; he only knew -that suddenly he was out of the cave, in the open, without a rifle, -but with his revolver in his grasp, backed and surrounded by his own -shouting men, and confronted by the soldiers of Herakleion, heavily -impeded by their wet trousers, but fighting sheerly for their lives, -striving to get at him, losing their heads and aiming wildly, throwing -aside their rifles and grappling at last bodily with their enemies, -struggling not to be driven back into the sea, cursing the islanders, -and calling to one another to rally, stumbling over the dead and the -wounded. Julian scarcely recognised his own voice in the shout of, -'Aphros!' He was full of the lust of fighting; he had seen men roll -over before the shot of his revolver, and had driven them down before -the weight of his fist. He was fighting joyously, striking among the -waves of his enemies as a swimmer striking out against a current. All -his thought was to kill, and to rid his island of these invaders; -already the tide had turned, and that subtle sense of defeat and -victory that comes upon the crest of battle was infusing respectively -despair and triumph. There was now no doubt in the minds of either the -attackers or the defenders in whose favour the attack would end. There -remained but three alternatives: surrender, death, or the sea. - -Already many were choosing the first, and those that turned in the -hope of regaining the launch were shot down or captured before they -reached the water. The prisoners, disarmed, stood aside in a little -sulky group under the guard of one islander, watching, resignedly, and -with a certain indifference born of their own secession from activity, -the swaying clump of men, shouting, swearing, and stumbling, and the -feeble efforts of the wounded to drag themselves out of the way of the -trampling feet. The sand of the beach was in some places, where blood -had been spilt, stamped into a dark mud. A wounded soldier, lying half -in and half out of the water, cried out pitiably as the salt water -lapped over his wounds. - -The decision was hastened by the crew of the launch, who, seeing a bare -dozen of their companions rapidly overpowered by a superior number of -islanders, and having themselves no fancy to be picked off at leisure -from the shore, started their engines and made off to sea. At that -a cry of dismay went up; retreat, as an alternative, was entirely -withdrawn; death an empty and unnecessary display of heroism; surrender -remained; they chose it thankfully. - - - - -III - - -Julian never knew, nor did he stop to inquire, why Eve had returned to -the village without his sanction. He only knew that as he came up the -street, escorted by all the population, singing, pressing around him, -taking his hands, throwing flowers and even fruit in his path, holding -up their children for him to touch, he saw her standing in the doorway -of their house, the lighted courtyard yellow behind her. She stood -there on the highest of the three steps, her hands held out towards -him. He knew, too, although no word was spoken, that the village -recognised them as lovers. He felt again the triumphant completeness of -life; a fulfilment, beyond the possibility of that staid world that, -somewhere, moved upon its confused, mercenary, mistaken, and restricted -way. Here, the indignities of hypocrisy were indeed remote. There, -men shorn of candour entangled the original impulse of their motives -until in a sea of perplexity they abandoned even to the ultimate grace -of self-honesty; here, in an island of enchantment, he had fought for -his dearest and most constituent beliefs--O honourable privilege! -unhindered and rare avowal!--fought, not with secret weapons, but with -the manhood of his body; and here, under the eyes of fellow-creatures, -their presence no more obtrusive than the presence of the sea or the -evening breeze, under their unquestioning eyes he claimed the just -reward, the consummation, the right of youth, which in that pharisaical -world would have been denied him. - -Eve herself was familiar with his mood. Whereas he had noted, -marvelled, and rejoiced at the simplicity with which they came -together, before that friendly concourse of people, she had stretched -out her hands to him with an unthinking gesture of possession. She had -kept her counsel during the unpropitious years, with a secrecy beyond -the determination of a child; but here, having gained him for her own; -having enticed him into the magical country where the standards drew -near to her own standards; where she, on the one hand, no less than he -upon the other, might fight with the naked weapons of nature for her -desires and beliefs--here she walked at home and without surprise in -the perfect liberty; that liberty which he accepted with gratitude, but -she as a right out of which man elsewhere was cheated. He had always -been surprised, on the rare occasions when a hint of her philosophy, a -fragment of her creed, had dropped from her lips unawares. From these -fragments he had been incapable of reconstructing the whole. He had -judged her harshly, too young and too ignorant to query whether the -falseness of convention cannot drive those, temperamentally direct and -uncontrolled, into the self-defence of a superlative falseness.... He -had seen her vanity; he had not seen what he was now, because himself -in sympathy, beginning to apprehend, her whole-heartedness that was, -in its way, so magnificent. Very, very dimly he apprehended; his -apprehension, indeed, limited chiefly to the recognition of a certain -correlation in her to the vibrant demands alive in him: he asked from -her, weakness to fling his strength into relief; submission to entice -his tyranny; yet at the same time, passion to match his passion, and -mettle to exalt his conquest in his own eyes; she must be nothing less -than the whole grace and rarity of life for his pleasure; flattery, in -short, at once subtle and blatant, supreme and meticulous, was what he -demanded, and what she was, he knew, so instinctively ready to accord. - -As she put her hand into his, he felt the current of her pride as -definitely as though he had seen a glance of understanding pass between -her and the women of the village. He looked up at her, smiling. She had -contrived for herself a garment out of some strip of dark red silk, -which she had wound round her body after the fashion of an Indian sari; -in the opening of that sombre colour her throat gleamed more than -usually white, and above her swathed slenderness her lips were red in -the pallor of her face, and her waving hair held glints of burnish as -the leaves of autumn. She was not inadequate in her anticipation of his -unspoken demands: the exploitation of her sensuous delicacy was all for -him--for him! - -He had expected, perhaps, that after her proud, frank welcome before -the people, she would turn to him when they were alone; but he -found her manner full of a deliberate indifference. She abstained -even from any allusion to her day's anxiety. He was reminded of all -their meetings when, after months, she betrayed no pleasure at his -return, but rather avoided him, and coldly disregarded his unthinking -friendliness. Many a time, as a boy, he had been hurt and puzzled by -this caprice, which, ever meeting him unprepared, was ever renewed -by her. To-night he was neither hurt nor puzzled, but with a grim -amusement accepted the pattern she set; he could allow her the -luxury of a superficial control. With the harmony between them, they -could play the game of pretence. He delighted in her unexpectedness. -Her reticence stirred him, in its disconcerting contrast with his -recollection of her as he had left her that morning. She moved from -the court into the drawing-room, and from the drawing-room back into -the court, and he followed her, impersonal as she herself, battening -down all outward sign of his triumph, granting her the grace of that -Epicurean and ironic chivalry. He knew their quietness was ominous. -They moved and spoke like people in the near, unescapable neighbourhood -of a wild beast, whose attention they must on no account arouse, whose -presence they must not mention, while each intensely aware of the -peril, and each alive to the other's knowledge of it. She spoke and -laughed, and he, in response to her laughter, smiled gravely; silence -fell, and she broke it; she thought that he took pleasure in testing -her power of reviving their protective talk; the effort increased in -difficulty; he seemed to her strangely and paralysingly sinister. - -Harmony between them! if such harmony existed, it was surely the -harmony of hostility. They were enemies that evening, not friends. -If an understanding existed, it was, on her part, the understanding -that he was mocking her; on his part, the understanding that she, -in her fear, must preserve the veneer of self-assurance, and that -some fundamental convention--if the term was not too inherently -contradictory--demanded his co-operation. He granted it. On other -occasions his manner towards her might be rough, violent, uncontrolled; -this evening it was of an irreproachable civility. For the first time -in her life she felt herself at a disadvantage. She invented pretext -after feverish pretext for prolonging their evening. She knew that if -she could once bring a forgetful laugh to Julian's lips, she would fear -him less; but he continued to smile gravely at her sallies, and to -watch her with that same unbending intent. In the midst of her phrase -she would look up, meet his eyes bent upon her, and forget her words in -confusion. Once he rose, and stretched his limbs luxuriously against -the background of the open roof and the stars; she thought he would -speak, but to her relief he sat down again in his place, removed his -eyes from her, and fell to the dissection, grain by grain, of a bunch -of grapes. - -She continued to speak; she talked of Kato, even of Alexander -Christopoulos; she scarcely knew he was not listening to her until -he broke with her name into the heart of her sentence, unaware that -he interrupted. He stood up, came round to her chair, and put his -hand upon her shoulder; she could not control her trembling. He said -briefly, but with all the repressed triumph ringing in his voice, 'Eve, -come'; and without a word she obeyed, her eyes fastened to his, her -breath shortened, deceit fallen from her, nothing but naked honesty -remaining. She had lost even her fear of him. In their stark desire for -each other they were equals. He put out his hand and extinguished the -candles; dimness fell over the court. - -'Eve,' he said, still in that contained voice, 'you know we are alone -in this house.' - -She acquiesced, 'I know,' not meaning to speak in a whisper, but -involuntarily letting the words glide out with her breath. - -As he paused, she felt his hand convulsive upon her shoulder; her -lids lay shut upon her eyes like heavy petals. Presently he said -wonderingly,-- - -'I have not kissed you.' - -'No,' she replied, faint, yet marvellously strong. - -He put his arm round her, and half carried her towards the stairs. - -'Let me go,' she whispered, for the sake of his contradiction. - -'No,' he answered, holding her more closely to him. - -'Where are you taking me, Julian?' - -He did not reply, but together they began to mount the stairs, she -failing and drooping against his arm, her eyes still closed and her -lips apart. They reached her room, bare, full of shadows, whitewashed, -with the windows open upon the black moonlit sea. - -'Eve!' he murmured exultantly. 'Aphros!...' - - - - -IV - - -The lyric of their early days of love piped clear and sweet upon the -terraces of Aphros. - -Their surroundings entered into a joyous conspiracy with their youth. -Between halcyon sky and sea the island lay radiantly; as it were -suspended, unattached, coloured like a rainbow, and magic with the -enchantment of its isolation. The very foam which broke around its -rocks served to define, by its lacy fringe of white, the compass of -the magic circle. To them were granted solitude and beauty beyond all -dreams of lovers. They dwelt in the certainty that no intruder could -disturb them--save those intruders to be beaten off in frank fight--no -visitor from the outside world but those that came on wings, swooping -down out of the sky, poising for an instant upon the island, that -halting place in the heart of the sea, and flying again with restless -cries, sea-birds, the only disturbers of their peace. From the shadow -of the olives, or of the stunted pines whose little cones hung like -black velvet balls in the transparent tracery of the branches against -the sky, they lay idly watching the gulls, and the tiny white clouds -by which the blue was almost always flaked. The population of the -island melted into a harmony with nature like the trees, the rocks and -boulders, or the roving flocks of sheep and herds of goats. Eve and -Julian met with neither curiosity nor surprise; only with acquiescence. -Daily as they passed down the village street, to wander up the -mule-tracks into the interior of Aphros, they were greeted by smiles -and devotion that were as unquestioning and comfortable as the shade -of the trees or the cool splash of the water; and nightly as they -remained alone together in their house, dark, roofed over with stars, -and silent but for the ripple of the fountain, they could believe that -they had been tended by invisible hands in the island over which they -reigned in isolated sovereignty. - -They abandoned themselves to the unbelievable romance. He, indeed, had -striven half-heartedly; but she, with all the strength of her nature, -had run gratefully, nay, clamantly, forward, exacting the reward of -her patience, demanding her due. She rejoiced in the casting aside of -shackles which, although she had resolutely ignored them in so far -as was possible, had always irked her by their latent presence. At -last she might gratify to the full her creed of living for and by the -beloved, in a world of beauty where the material was denied admittance. -In such a dream, such an ecstasy of solitude, they gained marvellously -in one another's eyes. She revealed to Julian the full extent of her -difference and singularity. For all their nearness in the human sense, -he received sometimes with a joyful terror the impression that he -was living in the companionship of a changeling, a being strayed by -accident from another plane. The small moralities and tendernesses -of mankind contained no meaning for her. They were burnt away by the -devastating flame of her own ideals. He knew now, irrefutably, that she -had lived her life withdrawn from all but external contact with her -surroundings. - -Her sensuality, which betrayed itself even in the selection of the arts -she loved, had marked her out for human passion. He had observed her -instinct to deck herself for his pleasure; he had learnt the fastidious -refinement with which she surrounded her body. He had marked her -further instinct to turn the conduct of their love into a fine art. -She had taught him the value of her reserve, her evasions, and of her -sudden recklessness. He never discovered, and, no less epicurean than -she, never sought to discover, how far her principles were innate, -unconscious, or how far deliberate. They both tacitly esteemed the veil -of some slight mystery to soften the harshness of their self-revelation. - -He dared not invoke the aid of unshrinking honesty to apportion the -values between their physical and their mental affinity. - -What was it, this bond of flesh? so material, yet so imperative, so -compelling, as to become almost a spiritual, not a bodily, necessity? -so transitory, yet so recurrent? dying down like a flame, to revive -again? so unimportant, so grossly commonplace, yet creating so close -and tremulous an intimacy? this magic that drew together their hands -like fluttering butterflies in the hours of sunlight, and linked them -in the abandonment of mastery and surrender in the hours of night? that -swept aside the careful training, individual and hereditary, replacing -pride by another pride? this unique and mutual secret? this fallacious -yet fundamental and dominating bond? this force, hurling them together -with such cosmic power that within the circle of frail human entity -rushed furiously the tempest of an inexorable law of nature? - -They had no tenderness for one another. Such tenderness as might have -crept into the relationship they collaborated in destroying, choosing -to dwell in the strong clean air of mountain-tops, shunning the -ease of the valleys. Violence was never very far out of sight. They -loved proudly, with a flame that purged all from their love but the -essential, the ideal passion. - -'I live with a Mænad,' he said, putting out his hand and bathing his -fingers in her loosened hair. - -From the rough shelter of reeds and matting where they idled then among -the terraced vineyards, the festoons of the vines and the bright reds -and yellows of the splay leaves, brilliant against the sun, framed her -consonant grace. The beautiful shadows of lacing vines dappled the -ground, and the quick lizards darted upon the rough terrace walls. - -He said, pursuing his thought,-- - -'You have never the wish of other women--permanency? a house with me? -never the inkling of such a wish?' - -'Trammels!' she replied, 'I've always hated possessions.' - -He considered her at great length, playing with her hair, fitting his -fingers into its waving thicknesses, putting his cheek against the -softness of her cheek, and laughing. - -'My changeling. My nymph,' he said. - -She lay silent, her arms folded behind her head, and her eyes on him as -he continued to utter his disconnected sentences. - -'Where is the Eve of Herakleion? The mask you wore! I dwelt only upon -your insignificant vanity, and in your pride you made no defence. Most -secret pride! Incredible chastity of mind! Inviolate of soul, to all -alike. Inviolate. Most rare restraint! The expansive vulgarity of the -crowd! My Eve....' - -He began again,-- - -'So rarely, so stainlessly mine. Beyond mortal hopes. You allowed all -to misjudge you, myself included. You smiled, not even wistfully, -lest that betray you, and said nothing. You held yourself withdrawn. -You perfected your superficial life. That profound humour.... I could -not think you shallow--not all your pretence could disguise your -mystery--but, may I be forgiven, I have thought you shallow in all -but mischief. I prophesied for you'--he laughed--'a great career as a -destroyer of men. A great courtesan. But instead I find you a great -lover. _Une grande amoureuse._' - -'If that is mischievous,' she said, 'my love for you goes beyond -mischief; it would stop short of no crime.' - -He put his face between his hands for a second. - -'I believe you; I know it.' - -'I understand love in no other way,' she said, sitting up and shaking -her hair out of her eyes; 'I am single-hearted. It is selfish love: I -would die for you, gladly, without a thought, but I would sacrifice my -claim on you to no one and to nothing. It is all-exorbitant. I make -enormous demands. I must have you exclusively for myself.' - -He teased her,-- - -'You refuse to marry me.' - -She was serious. - -'Freedom, Julian! romance! The world before us, to roam at will; fairs -to dance at; strange people to consort with, to see the smile in their -eyes, and the tolerant "Lovers!" forming on their lips. To tweak -the nose of Propriety, to snatch away the chair on which she would -sit down! Who in their senses would harness the divine courser to a -mail-cart?' - -She seemed to him lit by an inner radiance, that shone through her eyes -and glowed richly in her smile. - -'Vagabond!' he said. 'Is life to be one long carnival?' - -'And one long honesty. I'll own you before the world--and court its -disapproval. I'll release you--no, I'll leave you--when you tire of -me. I wouldn't clip love's golden wings. I wouldn't irk you with -promises, blackmail you into perjury, wring from you an oath we both -should know was made only to be broken. We'll leave that to middle-age. -Middle-age--I have been told there is such a thing? Sometimes it is -fat, sometimes it is wan, surely it is always dreary! It may be wise -and successful and contented. Sometimes, I'm told, it even loves. We -are young. Youth!' she said, sinking her voice, 'the winged and the -divine.' - - -When he talked to her about the Islands, she did not listen, although -she dared not check him. He talked, striving to interest her, to fire -her enthusiasm. He talked, with his eyes always upon the sea, since -some obscure instinct warned him not to keep them bent upon her face; -sometimes they were amongst the vines, which in the glow of their -September bronze and amber resembled the wine flowing from their -fruits, and from here the sea shimmered, crudely and cruelly blue -between those flaming leaves, undulating into smooth, nacreous folds; -sometimes they were amongst the rocks on the lower levels, on a windier -day, when white crests spurted from the waves, and the foam broke with -a lacy violence against the island at the edge of the green shallows; -and sometimes, after dusk, they climbed to the olive terraces beneath -the moon that rose through the trees in a world strangely gray and -silver, strangely and contrastingly deprived of colour. He talked, -lying on the ground, with his hands pressed close against the soil -of Aphros. Its contact gave him the courage he needed.... He talked -doggedly; in the first week with the fire of inspiration, after that -with the perseverance of loyalty. These monologues ended always in the -same way. He would bring his glance from the sea to her face, would -break off his phrase in the middle, and, coming suddenly to her, would -cover her hair, her throat, her mouth, with kisses. Then she would turn -gladly and luxuriously towards him, curving in his arms, and presently -the grace of her murmured speech would again bewitch him, until upon -her lips he forgot the plea of Aphros. - -There were times when he struggled to escape her, his physical and -mental activity rebelling against the subjection in which she held -him. He protested that the affairs of the Islands claimed him; that -Herakleion had granted but a month for negotiations; precautions must -be taken, and the scheme of government amplified and consolidated. -Then the angry look came over her face, and all the bitterness of her -resentment broke loose. Having captured him, much of her precocious -wisdom seemed to have abandoned her. - -'I have waited for you ten years, yet you want to leave me. Do I mean -less to you than the Islands? I wish the Islands were at the bottom of -the sea instead of on the top of it.' - -'Be careful, Eve.' - -'I resent everything which takes you from me,' she said recklessly. - -Another time she cried, murky with passion,-- - -'Always these councils with Tsigaridis and the rest! always these -secret messages passing between you and Kato! Give me that letter.' - -He refused, shredding Kato's letter and scattering the pieces into the -sea. - -'What secrets have you with Kato, that you must keep from me?' - -'They would have no interest for you,' he replied, remembering that she -was untrustworthy--that canker in his confidence. - -The breeze fanned slightly up the creek where they were lying on the -sand under the shadow of a pine, and out in the dazzling sea a porpoise -leapt, turning its slow black curve in the water. The heat simmered -over the rocks. - -'We share our love,' he said morosely, 'but no other aspect of life. -The Islands are nothing to you. An obstacle, not a link.' It was a -truth that he rarely confronted. - -'You are wrong: a background, a setting for you, which I appreciate.' - -'You appreciate the picturesque. I know. You are an artist in -appreciation of the suitable stage-setting. But as for the rest....' he -made a gesture full of sarcasm and renunciation. - -'Give me up, Julian, and all my shortcomings. I have always told you I -had but one virtue. I am the first to admit the insufficiency of its -claim. Give yourself wholly to your Islands. Let me go.' She spoke -sadly, as though conscious of her own irremediable difference and -perversity. - -'Yet you yourself--what were your words?--said you believed in me; you -even wrote to me, I remember still, "conquer, shatter, demolish!" But I -must always struggle against you, against your obstructions. What is it -you want? Liberty and irresponsibility, to an insatiable degree!' - -'Because I love you insatiably.' - -'You are too unreasonable sometimes' ('Reason!' she interrupted with -scorn, 'what has reason got to do with love?') 'you are unreasonable to -grudge me every moment I spend away from you. Won't you realise that I -am responsible for five thousand lives? You must let me go now; only -for an hour. I promise to come back to you in an hour.' - -'Are you tired of me already?' - -'Eve....' - -'When we were in Herakleion, you were always saying you must go to -Kato; now you are always going to some council; am I never to have you -to myself?' - -'I will go only for an hour. I _must_ go, Eve, my darling.' - -'Stay with me, Julian. I'll kiss you. I'll tell you a story.' She -stretched out her hands. He shook his head, laughing, and ran off in -the direction of the village. - -When he returned, she refused to speak to him. - -But at other times they grew marvellously close, passing hours and -days in unbroken union, until the very fact of their two separate -personalities became an exasperation. Then, silent as two souls -tortured, before a furnace, they struggled for the expression that ever -eludes; the complete, the satisfying expression that shall lay bare one -soul to another soul, but that, ever failing, mockingly preserves the -unwanted boon of essential mystery. - -That dumb frenzy outworn, they attained, nevertheless, to a nearer -comradeship, the days, perhaps, of their greatest happiness, when with -her reckless fancy she charmed his mind; he thought of her then as a -vagrant nymph, straying from land to land, from age to age, decking -her spirit with any flower she met growing by the way, chastely -concerned with the quest of beauty, strangely childlike always, pure -as the fiercest, tallest flame. He could not but bow to that audacity, -that elemental purity, of spirit. Untainted by worldliness, greed, -or malice.... The facts of her life became clearer to him, startling -in their consistency. He could not associate her with possessions, -or a fixed abode, she who was free and elusive as a swallow, to whom -the slightest responsibility was an intolerable and inadmissible yoke -from beneath which, without commotion but also without compunction, -she slipped. On no material point could she be touched--save her own -personal luxury, and that seemed to grow with her, as innocent of -effort as the colour on a flower; she kindled only in response to -music, poetry, love, or laughter, but then with what a kindling! she -flamed, she glowed; she ranged over spacious and fabulous realms; her -feet never touched earth, they were sandal-shod and carried her in -the clean path of breezes, and towards the sun, exalted and ecstatic, -breathing as the common air the rarity of the upper spaces. At such -times she seemed a creature blown from legend, deriving from no -parentage; single, individual, and lawless. - - -He found that he had come gradually to regard her with a superstitious -reverence. - -He evolved a theory, constructed around her, dim and nebulous, yet -persistent; perforce nebulous, since he was dealing with a matter too -fine, too subtle, too unexplored, to lend itself to the gross imperfect -imprisonment of words. He never spoke of it, even to her, but staring -at her sometimes with a reeling head he felt himself transported, by -her medium, beyond the matter-of-fact veils that shroud the limit of -human vision. He felt illuminated, on the verge of a new truth; as -though by stretching out his hand he might touch something no hand of -man had ever touched before, something of unimaginable consistency, -neither matter nor the negation of matter; as though he might brush the -wings of truth, handle the very substance of a thought.... - -He felt at these times like a man who passes through a genuine -psychical experience. Yes, it was as definite as that; he had the -glimpse of a possible revelation. He returned from his vision--call -it what he would, vision would serve as well as any other word--he -returned with that sense of benefit by which alone such an -excursion--or was it incursion?--could be justified. He brought back a -benefit. He had beheld, as in a distant prospect, a novel balance and -proportion of certain values. That alone would have left him enriched -for ever. - -Practical as he could be, theories and explorations were yet dear -to him: he was an inquisitive adventurer of the mind no less than -an active adventurer of the world. He sought eagerly for underlying -truths. His apparently inactive moods were more accurately his fallow -moods. His thought was as an ardent plough, turning and shifting the -loam of his mind. Yet he would not allow his fancy to outrun his -conviction; if fancy at any moment seemed to lead, he checked it -until more lumbering conviction could catch up. They must travel ever -abreast, whip and reins alike in his control. - -Youth--were the years of youth the intuitive years of perception? Were -the most radiant moments the moments in which one stepped farthest -from the ordered acceptance of the world? Moments of danger, moments -of inspiration, moments of self-sacrifice, moments of perceiving -beauty, moments of love, all the drunken moments! Eve moved, he knew, -permanently upon that plane. She led an exalted, high-keyed inner life. -The normal mood to her was the mood of a sensitive person caught at the -highest pitch of sensibility. Was she unsuited to the world and to the -necessities of the world because she belonged, not here, but to another -sphere apprehended by man only in those rare, keen moments that Julian -called the drunken moments? apprehended by poet or artist--the elect, -the aristocracy, the true path-finders among the race of man!--in -moments when sobriety left them and they passed beyond? - -Was she to blame for her cruelty, her selfishness, her disregard for -truth? was she, not evil, but only alien? to be forgiven all for the -sake of the rarer, more distant flame? Was the standard of cardinal -virtues set by the world the true, the ultimate standard? Was it -possible that Eve made part of a limited brotherhood? was indeed a -citizen of some advanced state of such perfection that this world's -measures and ideals were left behind and meaningless? meaningless -because unnecessary in such a realm of serenity? - -Aphros, then--the liberty of Aphros--and Aphros meant to him far more -than merely Aphros--that was surely a lovely and desirable thing, a -worthy aim, a high beacon? If Eve cared nothing for the liberty of -Aphros, was it because in _her_ world (he was by now convinced of its -existence) there was no longer any necessity to trouble over such aims, -liberty being as natural and unmeditated as the air in the nostrils? - -(Not that this would ever turn him from his devotion; at most he could -look upon Aphros as a stage upon the journey towards that higher -aim--the stage to which he and his like, who were nearly of the elect, -yet not of them, might aspire. And if the day should ever come when -disillusion drove him down; when, far from becoming a citizen of Eve's -far sphere, he should cease to be a citizen even of Aphros and should -become a citizen merely of the world, no longer young, no longer -blinded by ideals, no longer nearly a poet, but merely a grown, sober -man--then he would still keep Aphros as a bright memory of what might -have been, of the best he had grasped, the possibility which in the -days of youth had not seemed too extravagantly unattainable.) - -But in order to keep his hold upon this world of Eve's, which in his -inner consciousness he already recognised as the most valuable rift -of insight ever vouchsafed to him, it was necessary that he should -revolutionise every ancient gospel and reputable creed. The worth -of Eve was to him an article of faith. His intimacy with her was a -privilege infinitely beyond the ordinary privilege of love. Whatever -she might do, whatever crime she might commit, whatever baseness she -might perpetrate, her ultimate worth, the core, the kernel, would -remain to him unsullied and inviolate. This he knew blindly, seeing it -as the mystic sees God; and knew it the more profoundly that he could -have defended it with no argument of reason. - -What then? the poet, the creator, the woman, the mystic, the man -skirting the fringes of death--were they kin with one another and free -of some realm unknown, towards which all, consciously or unconsciously, -were journeying? Where the extremes of passion (he did not mean -only the passion of love), of exaltation, of danger, of courage and -vision--where all these extremes met--was it there, the great crossways -where the moral ended, and the divine began? Was it for Eve supremely, -and to a certain extent for all women and artists--the visionaries, the -lovely, the graceful, the irresponsible, the useless!--was it reserved -for them to show the beginning of the road? - -Youth! youth and illusion! to love Eve and Aphros! when those two -slipped from him he would return sobered to the path designated by the -sign-posts and milestones of man, hoping no more than to keep as a -gleam within him the light glowing in the sky above that unattainable -but remembered city. - - -He returned to earth; Eve was kneading and tormenting a lump of putty, -and singing to herself meanwhile; he watched her delicate, able hands, -took one of them, and held it up between his eyes and the sun. - -'Your fingers are transparent, they're like cornelian against the -light,' he said. - -She left her hand within his grasp, and smiled down at him. - -'How you play with me, Julian,' she said idly. - -'You're such a delicious toy.' - -'Only a toy?' - -He remembered the intricate, untranslatable thoughts he had been -thinking about her five minutes earlier, and began to laugh to himself. - -'A great deal more than a toy. Once I thought of you only as a child, a -helpless, irritating, adorable child, always looking for trouble, and -turning to me for help when the trouble came.' - -'And then?' - -'Then you made me think of you as a woman,' he replied gravely. - -'You seemed to hesitate a good deal before deciding to think of me as -that.' - -'Yes, I tried to judge our position by ordinary codes; you must have -thought me ridiculous.' - -'I did, darling.' Her mouth twisted drolly as she said it. - -'I wonder now how I could have insulted you by applying them to you,' -he said with real wonderment; everything seemed so clear and obvious to -him now. - -'Why, how do you think of me now?' - -'Oh, God knows!' he replied. 'I've called you changeling sometimes, -haven't I?' He decided to question her. 'Tell me, Eve, how do you -explain your difference? you outrage every accepted code, you see, and -yet one retains one's belief in you. Is one simply deluded by your -charm? or is there a deeper truth? can you explain?' He had spoken in a -bantering tone, but he knew that he was trying an experiment of great -import to him. - -'I don't think I'm different, Julian; I think I feel things strongly, -no more.' - -'Or else you don't feel them at all.' - -'What do you mean?' - -'Well--Paul,' he said reluctantly. - -'You have never got over that, have you?' - -'Exactly!' he exclaimed. 'It seems to you extraordinary that I should -still remember Paul, or that his death should have made any impression -upon me. I ought to hate you for your indifference. Sometimes I have -come very near to hating you. But now--perhaps my mind is getting -broader--I blame you for nothing because I believe you are simply not -capable of understanding. But evidently you can't explain yourself. I -love you!' he said, 'I love you!' - -He knew that her own inability to explain herself--her -unself-consciousness--had done much to strengthen his new theories. The -flower does not know why or how it blossoms.... - - -On the day that he told her, with many misgivings, that Kato was coming -to Aphros, she uttered no word of anger, but wept despairingly, at -first without speaking, then with short, reiterated sentences that -wrung his heart for all their unreason,-- - -'We were alone. I was happy as never in my life. I had you utterly. We -were alone. Alone! Alone!' - -'We will tell Kato the truth,' he soothed her; 'she will leave us alone -still.' - -But it was not in her nature to cling to straws of comfort. For her, -the sunshine had been unutterably radiant; and for her it was now -proportionately blackened out. - -'We were alone,' she repeated, shaking her head with unspeakable -mournfulness, the tears running between her fingers. - -For the first time he spoke to her with a moved, a tender compassion, -full of reverence. - -'Your joy ... your sorrow ... equally overwhelming and tempestuous. How -you feel--you tragic child! Yesterday you laughed and made yourself a -crown of myrtle.' - -She refused to accompany him when he went to meet Kato, who, after a -devious journey from Athens, was to land at the rear of the island -away from the curiosity of Herakleion. She remained in the cool house, -sunk in idleness, her pen and pencil alike neglected. She thought -only of Julian, absorbingly, concentratedly. Her past life appeared to -her, when she thought of it at all, merely as a period in which Julian -had not loved her, a period of waiting, of expectancy, of anguish -sometimes, of incredible reticence supported only by the certainty -which had been her faith and her inspiration.... - -To her surprise, he returned, not only with Kato but with Grbits. - -Every word and gesture of the giant demonstrated his enormous pleasure. -His oddly Mongolian face wore a perpetual grin of triumphant truancy. -His good-humour was not to be withstood. He wrung Eve's hands, -inarticulate with delight. Kato, her head covered with a spangled -veil--Julian had never seen her in a hat--stood by, looking on, her -hands on her hips, as though Grbits were her exhibit. Her little eyes -sparkled with mischief. - -'He is no longer an officer in the Serbian army,' she said at last, -'only a free-lance, at Julian's disposal. Is it not magnificent? -He has sent in his resignation. His career is ruined. The military -representative of Serbia in Herakleion!' - -'A free-lance,' Grbits repeated, beaming down at Julian. (It annoyed -Eve that he should be so much the taller of the two). - -'We sent you no word, not to lessen your surprise,' said Kato. - -They stood, all four, in the courtyard by the fountain. - -'I told you on the day of the elections that when you needed me I -should come,' Grbits continued, his grin widening. - -'Of course, you are a supreme fool, Grbits,' said Kato to him. - -'Yes,' he replied, 'thank Heaven for it.' - -'In Athens the sympathy is all with the Islands,' said Kato. She -had taken off her veil, and they could see that she wore the gold -wheat-ears in her hair. Her arms were, as usual, covered with bangles, -nor had she indeed made any concessions to the necessities of -travelling, save that on her feet, instead of her habitual square-toed -slippers, she wore long, hideous, heelless, elastic-sided boots. -Eve reflected that she had grown fatter and more stumpy, but she -was, as ever, eager, kindly, enthusiastic, vital; they brought with -them a breath of confidence and efficiency, those disproportionately -assorted travelling companions; Julian felt a slight shame that he had -neglected the Islands for Eve; and Eve stood by, listening to their -respective recitals, to Grbits' startling explosions of laughter, and -Kato's exuberant joy, tempered with wisdom. They both talked at once, -voluble and excited; the wheat-ears trembled in Kato's hair, Grbits' -white regular teeth flashed in his broad face, and Julian, a little -bewildered, turned from one to the other with his unsmiling gravity. - -'I mistrust the forbearance of Herakleion,' Kato said, a great -weight of meditated action pressing on behind her words; 'a month's -forbearance! In Athens innumerable rumours were current: of armed ships -purchased from the Turks, even of a gun mounted on Mylassa--but that I -do not believe. They have given you, you say, a month in which to come -to your senses. But they are giving themselves also a month in which to -prepare their attack,' and she plied him with practical questions that -demonstrated her clear familiarity with detail and tactic, while Grbits -contributed nothing but the cavernous laugh and ejaculations of his own -unquestioning optimism. - - - - -V - - -The second attack on Aphros was delivered within a week of their -arrival. - -Eve and Kato, refusing the retreat in the heart of the island, spent -the morning together in the Davenant house. In the distance the -noise of the fighting alternately increased and waned; now crackling -sharply, as it seemed, from all parts of the sea, now dropping into a -disquieting silence. At such times Eve looked mutely at the singer. -Kato gave her no comfort, but, shaking her head and shrugging her -shoulders, expressed only her ignorance. She found that she could speak -to Julian sympathetically of Eve, but not to Eve sympathetically of -Julian. She had made the attempt, but after the pang of its effort, -had renounced it. Their hostility smouldered dully under the shelter -of their former friendship. Now, alone in the house, they might indeed -have remained for the most time apart in separate rooms, but the -common anxiety which linked them drew them together, so that when Kato -moved Eve followed her, unwillingly, querulously; and expressions of -affection were even forced from them, of which they instantly repented, -and by some phrase of veiled cruelty sought to counteract. - -No news reached them from outside. Every man was at his post, and -Julian had forbidden all movement about the village. By his orders also -the heavy shutters had been closed over the windows of the Davenant -drawing-room, where Eve and Kato sat, with the door open on to the -courtyard for the sake of light, talking spasmodically, and listening -to the sounds of the firing. At the first quick rattle Kato had said, -'Machine-guns,' and Eve had replied, 'Yes; the first time--when we were -here alone--he told me they had a machine-gun on the police-launch;' -then Kato said, after a pause of firing, 'This time they have more than -one.' - -Eve raised tormented eyes. - -'Anastasia, he said he would be in shelter.' - -'Would he remain in shelter for long?' Kato replied scornfully. - -Eve said,-- - -'He has Grbits with him.' - -Kato, crushing down the personal preoccupation, dwelt ardently on -the fate of her country. She must abandon to Eve the thought of -Julian, but of the Islands at least she might think possessively, -diverting to their dear though inanimate claim all the need of passion -and protection humanly denied her. From a woman of always intense -patriotism, she had become a fanatic. Starved in one direction, she -had doubled her energy in the other, realising, moreover, the power -of that bond between herself and Julian. She could have said with -thorough truthfulness that her principal cause of resentment against -Eve was Eve's indifference towards the Islands--a loftier motive -than the more human jealousy. She had noticed Julian's reluctance -to mention the Islands in Eve's presence. Alone with herself and -Grbits, he had never ceased to pour forth the flood of his scheme, -both practical and utopian, so that Kato could not be mistaken as to -the direction of his true preoccupations. She had seen the vigour he -brought to his governing. She had observed with a delighted grin to -Grbits that, despite his Socialistic theories, Julian had in point of -fact instituted a complete and very thinly-veiled autocracy in Hagios -Zacharie. She had seen him in the village assembly, when, in spite -of his deferential appeals to the superior experience of the older -men, he steered blankly past any piece of advice that ran contrary -to the course of his own ideas. She knew that, ahead of him, when he -should have freed himself finally of Herakleion (and that he would -free himself he did not for a moment doubt), he kept always the dream -of his tiny, ideal state. She revered his faith, his energy, and his -youth, as the essence in him most worthy of reverence. And she knew -that Eve, if she loved these things in him, loved them only in theory, -but in practice regarded them with impatient indifference. They stole -him away, came between him and her.... Kato knew well Eve's own ideals. -Courage she exacted. Talents she esteemed. Genius, freedom, and beauty -she passionately worshipped as her gods upon earth. But she could -tolerate nothing material, nor any occupation that removed her or the -other from the blind absorption of love. - -Kato sighed. Far otherwise would she have cared for Julian! She -caught sight of herself in a mirror, thick, squat, black, with little -sparkling eyes; she glanced at Eve, glowing with warmth, sleek and -graceful as a little animal, idle and seductive. Outside a crash of -firing shook the solid house, and bullets rattled upon the roofs of the -village. - -It was intolerable to sit unoccupied, working out bitter speculations, -while such activity raged around the island. To know the present peril -neither of Julian nor of Aphros! To wait indefinitely, probably all -day, possibly all night! - -'Anastasia, sing.' - -Kato complied, as much for her own sake as for Eve's. She sang some -of her own native songs, then, breaking off, she played, and Eve drew -near to her, lost and transfigured by the music; she clasped and -unclasped her hands, beautified by her ecstasy, and Kato's harsh -thoughts vanished; Eve was, after all, a child, an all too loving and -passionate child, and not, as Kato sometimes thought her, a pernicious -force of idleness and waste. Wrong-headed, tragically bringing sorrow -upon herself in the train of her too intense emotions.... Continuing to -play, Kato observed her, and felt the light eager fingers upon her arm. - -'Ah, Kato, you make me forget. Like some drug of forgetfulness that -admits me to caves of treasure. Underground caves heaped with jewels. -Caves of the winds; zephyrs that come and go. I'm carried away into -oblivion.' - -'Tell me,' Kato said. - -Obedient to the lead of the music, Eve wandered into a story,-- - -'Riding on a winged horse, he swept from east to west; he looked down -upon the sea, crossed by the wake of ships, splashed here and there -with islands, washing on narrow brown stretches of sand, or dashing -against the foot of cliffs--you hear the waves breaking?--and he saw -how the moon drew the tides, and how ships came to rest for a little -while in harbours, but were homeless and restless and free; he passed -over the land, swooping low, and he saw the straight streets of cities, -and the gleam of fires, the neat fields and guarded frontiers, the -wider plains; he saw the gods throned on Ida, wearing the clouds like -mantles and like crowns, divinely strong or divinely beautiful; he -saw things mean and magnificent; he saw the triumphal procession of a -conqueror, with prisoners walking chained to the back of his chariot, -and before him white bulls with gilded horns driven to the sacrifice, -and children running with garlands of flowers; he saw giants hammering -red iron in northern mountains; he saw all the wanderers of the earth; -Io the tormented, and all gipsies, vagabonds, and wastrels: all -jongleurs, poets, and mountebanks; he saw these wandering, but all -the staid and solemn people lived in the cities and counted the neat -fields, saying, "This shall be mine and this shall be yours." And -sometimes, as he passed above a forest, he heard a scurry of startled -feet among crisp leaves, and sometimes he heard, which made him sad, -the cry of stricken trees beneath the axe.' - -She broke off, as Kato ceased playing. - -'They are still firing,' she said. - -'Things mean and magnificent,' quoted Kato slowly. 'Why, then, withhold -Julian from the Islands?' - -She had spoken inadvertently. Consciousness of the present had jerked -her back from remembrance of the past, when Eve had come almost daily -to her flat in Herakleion, bathing herself in the music, wrapped up -in beauty; when their friendship had hovered on the boundaries of the -emotional, in spite of--or perhaps because of?--the thirty years that -lay between them. - -'I heard the voice of my fantastic Eve, of whom I once thought,' she -added, fixing her eyes on Eve, 'as the purest of beings, utterly -removed from the sordid and the ugly.' - -Eve suddenly flung herself on her knees beside her. - -'Ah, Kato,' she said, 'you throw me off my guard when you play to me. -I'm not always hard and calculating, and your music melts me. It hurts -me to be, as I constantly am, on the defensive. I'm too suspicious by -nature to be very happy, Kato. There are always shadows, and ... and -tragedy. Please don't judge me too harshly. Tell me what you mean by -sordid and ugly--what is there sordid or ugly in love?' - -Kato dared much; she replied in a level voice,-- - -'Jealousy. Waste. Exorbitance. Suspicion. I am sometimes afraid of -your turning Julian into another of those men who hoped to find their -inspiration in a woman, but found only a hindrance.' - -She nodded sagely at Eve, and the gold wheat-ears trembled in her hair. - -Eve darkened at Julian's name; she got up and stood by the door looking -into the court. Kato went on,-- - -'You are so much of a woman, Eve, that it becomes a responsibility. -It is a gift, like genius. And a great gift without a great soul is -a curse, because such a gift is too strong to be disregarded. It's a -force, a danger. You think I am preaching to you'--Eve would never -know what the words were costing her--'but I preach only because of my -belief in Julian--and in you,' she hastened to add, and caught Eve's -hand; 'don't frown, you child. Look at me; I have no illusions and no -sensitiveness on the score of my own appearance; look at me hard, and -let me speak to you as a sexless creature.' - -Eve was touched in spite of her hostility. She was also shocked and -distressed. There was to her, so young herself, so insolently vivid in -her sex-pride, something wrong and painful in Kato's renouncement of -her right. She had a sense of betrayal. - -'Hush, Anastasia,' she whispered. They were both extremely moved, and -the constant volleys of firing played upon their nerves and stripped -reserve from them. - -'You don't realise,' said Kato, who had, upon impulse, sacrificed her -pride, and beaten down the feminine weakness she branded as unworthy, -'how finely the balance, in love, falters between good and ill. You, -Eve, are created for love; any one who saw you, even without speaking -to you, across a room, could tell you that.' She smiled affectionately; -she had, at that moment, risen so far above all personal vanity that -she could bring herself to smile affectionately at Eve. 'You said, just -now, with truth I am sure, that shadows and tragedy were never very far -away from you; you're too _rare_ to be philosophical. I wish there were -a word to express the antithesis of a philosopher; if I could call you -by it, I should have said all that I could wish to say about you, Eve. -I'm so much afraid of sorrow for you and Julian....' - -'Yes, yes,' said Eve, forgetting to be resentful, 'I am afraid, too; -it overcomes me sometimes; it's a presentiment.' She looked really -haunted, and Kato was filled with an immense pity for her. - -'You mustn't be weak,' she said gently. 'Presentiment is only a -high-sounding word for a weak thought.' - -'You are so strong and sane, Kato; it is easy for you to be--strong and -sane.' - -They broke off, and listened in silence to an outburst of firing and -shouts that rose from the village. - - -Grbits burst into the room early in the afternoon, his flat sallow -face tinged with colour, his clothes torn, and his limbs swinging like -the sails of a windmill. In one enormous hand he still brandished a -revolver. He was triumphantly out of breath. - -'Driven off!' he cried. 'They ran up a white flag. Not one succeeded in -landing. Not one.' He panted between every phrase. 'Julian--here in a -moment. I ran. Negotiations now, we hope. Sea bobbing with dead.' - -'Our losses?' said Kato sharply. - -'Few. All under cover,' Grbits replied. He sat down, swinging his -revolver loosely between his knees, and ran his fingers through his -oily black hair, so that it separated into straight wisps across his -forehead. He was hugely pleased and good-humoured, and grinned widely -upon Eve and Kato. 'Good fighting--though too much at a distance. -Julian was grazed on the temple--told me to tell you,' he added, with -the tardy haste of a child who has forgotten to deliver a message. -'We tied up his head, and it will be nothing of a scratch.--Driven -off! They have tried and failed. The defence was excellent. They will -scarcely try force again. I am sorry I missed the first fight. I could -have thrown those little fat soldiers into the sea with one hand, two -at a time.' - -Kato rushed up to Grbits and kissed him; they were like children in -their large, clumsy excitement. - -Julian came in, his head bandaged; his unconcern deserted him as he saw -Kato hanging over the giant's chair. He laughed out loud. - -'A miscellaneous fleet!' he cried. 'Coastal steamers, fort tugs, old -chirkets from the Bosphorus--who was the admiral, I wonder?' - -'Panaïoannou,' cried Grbits, 'his uniform military down one side, and -naval down the other.' - -'Their white flag!' said Julian. - -'Sterghiou's handkerchief!' said Grbits. - -'Coaling steamers, mounting machine-guns,' Julian continued. - -'Stavridis must have imagined that,' said Kato. - -'Play us a triumphal march, Anastasia!' said Grbits. - -Kato crashed some chords on the piano; they all laughed and sang, but -Eve, who had taken no part at all, remained in the window-seat staring -at the ground and her lips trembling. She heard Julian's voice calling -her, but she obstinately shook her head. He was lost to her between -Kato and Grbits. She heard them eagerly talking now, all three, of the -negotiations likely to follow. She heard the occasional shout with -which Grbits recalled some incident in the fighting, and Julian's -response. She felt that her ardent hatred of the Islands rose in -proportion to their ardent love. 'He cares nothing for me,' she kept -repeating to herself, 'he cares for me as a toy, a pastime, nothing -more; he forgets me for Kato and the Islands. The Islands hold his true -heart. I am the ornament to his life, not life itself. And he is all my -life. He forgets me....' Pride alone conquered her tears. - - -Later, under cover of a white flag, the ex-Premier Malteios was landed -at the port of Aphros, and was conducted--since he insisted that his -visit was unofficial--to the Davenant house. - -Peace and silence reigned. Grbits and Kato had gone together to look -at the wreckage, and Eve, having watched their extraordinary progress -down the street until they turned into the market-place, was alone in -the drawing-room. Julian slept heavily, his arms flung wide, on his bed -upstairs. Zapantiotis, who had expected to find him in the court or in -the drawing-room, paused perplexed. He spoke to Eve in a low voice. - -'No,' she said, 'do not wake Mr Davenant,' and, raising her voice, she -added, 'His Excellency can remain with me.' - -She was alone in the room with Malteios, as she had desired. - -'But why remain thus, as it were, at bay?' he said pleasantly, -observing her attitude, shrunk against the wall, her hand pressed to -her heart. 'You and I were friends once, mademoiselle. Madame?' he -substituted. - -'Mademoiselle,' she replied levelly. - -'Ah? Other rumours, perhaps--no matter. Here upon your island, no -doubt, different codes obtain. Far be it from me to suggest.... An -agreeable room,' he said, looking round, linking his fingers behind -his back, and humming a little tune; 'you have a piano, I see; have -you played much during your leisure? But, of course, I was forgetting: -Madame Kato is your companion here, is she not? and to her skill a -piano is a grateful ornament. Ah, I could envy you your evenings, with -Kato to make your music. Paris cries for her; but no, she is upon a -revolutionary island in the heart of the Ægean! Paris cries the more. -Her portrait appears in every paper. Madame Kato, when she emerges, -will find her fame carried to its summit. And you, Mademoiselle Eve, -likewise something of a heroine.' - -'I am here in the place of my cousin,' Eve said, looking across at the -ex-Premier. - -He raised his eyebrows, and, in a familiar gesture, smoothed away his -beard from his rosy lips with the tips of his fingers. - -'Is that indeed so? A surprising race, you English. Very surprising. -You assume or bequeath very lightly the mantle of government, do you -not? Am I to understand that you have permanently replaced your cousin -in the--ah!--presidency of Hagios Zacharie?' - -'My cousin is asleep; there is no reason why you should not speak to me -in his absence.' - -'Asleep? but I must see him, mademoiselle.' - -'If you will wait until he wakes.' - -'Hours, possibly!' - -'We will send to wake him in an hour's time. Can I not entertain you -until then?' she suggested, her natural coquetry returning. - -She left the wall against which she had been leaning, and, coming -across to Malteios, gave him her fingers with a smile. The ex-Premier -had always figured picturesquely in her world. - -'Mademoiselle,' he said, kissing the fingers she gave him, 'you are as -delightful as ever, I am assured.' - -They sat, Malteios impatient and ill at ease, unwilling to forego -his urbanity, yet tenacious of his purpose. In the midst of the -compliments he perfunctorily proffered, he broke out,-- - -'Children! _Ces gosses.... Mais il est fou, voyons, votre cousin_. What -is he thinking about? He has created a ridiculous disturbance; well, -let that pass; we overlook it, but this persistence.... Where is it all -to end? Obstinacy feeds and grows fat upon obstinacy; submission grows -daily more impossible, more remote. His pride is at stake. A threat, -well and good; let him make his threat; he might then have arrived -at some compromise. I, possibly, might myself have acted as mediator -between him and my friend and rival, Gregori Stavridis. In fact, I am -here to-day in the hope that my effort will not come too late. But -after so much fighting! Tempers run high no doubt in the Islands, and I -can testify that they run high in Herakleion. Anastasia--probably you -know this already--Madame Kato's flat is wrecked. Yes, the mob. We are -obliged to keep a cordon of police always before your uncle's house. -Neither he nor your father and mother dare to show themselves at the -windows. It is a truly terrible state of affairs.' - -He reverted to the deeper cause of his resentment,-- - -'I could have mediated, in the early days, so well between your cousin -and Gregori Stavridis. Pity, pity, pity!' he said, shaking his head -and smiling his benign, regretful smile that to-day was tinged with a -barely concealed bitterness, 'a thousand pities, mademoiselle.' - -He began again, his mind on Herakleion,-- - -'I have seen your father and mother, also your uncle. They are very -angry and impotent. Because the people threw stones at their windows -and even, I regret to say, fired shots into the house from the -_platia_, the windows are all boarded over and they live by artificial -light. I have seen them breakfasting by candles. Yes. Your, father, -your mother, and your uncle, breakfasting together in the drawing-room -with lighted candles on the table. I entered the house from the back. -Your father said to me apprehensively, "I am told Madame Kato's flat -was wrecked last night?" and your mother said, "Outrageous! She is -infatuated, either with those Islands or with that boy. She will not -care. All her possessions, littering the quays! An outrage." Your uncle -said to me, "See the boy, Malteios! Talk to him. We are hopeless." -Indeed they appeared hopeless, although not resigned, and sat with -their hands hanging by their sides instead of eating their eggs; your -mother, even, had lost her determination. - -'I tried to reassure them, but a rattle of stones on the boarded -windows interrupted me. Your uncle got up and flung away his napkin. -"One cannot breakfast in peace," he said petulantly, as though that -constituted his most serious grievance. He went out of the room, but -the door had scarcely closed behind him before it reopened and he came -back. He was quite altered, very irritable, and all his courteous -gravity gone from him. "See the inconvenience," he said to me, jerking -his hands, "all the servants have gone with my son, all damned -islanders." I found nothing to say.' - -'Kato may return to Herakleion with you?' Eve suggested after a pause -during which Malteios recollected himself, and tried to indicate by -shrugs and rueful smiles that he considered the bewilderment of the -Davenants a deplorable but nevertheless entertaining joke. At the name -of Kato a change came over his face. - -'A fanatic, that woman,' he replied; 'a martyr who will rejoice in her -martyrdom. She will never leave Aphros while the cause remains.--A -heroic woman,' he said, with unexpected reverence. - -He looked at Eve, his manner veering again to the insinuating and the -crafty; his worse and his better natures were perpetually betraying -themselves. - -'Would she leave Aphros? no! Would your cousin leave Aphros? no! They -have between them the bond of a common cause. I know your cousin. He is -young enough to be an idealist. I know Madame Kato. She is old enough -to applaud skilfully. Hou!' He spread his hands. 'I have said enough.' - -Eve revealed but little interest, though for the first time during -their interview her interest was passionately aroused. Malteios -watched her, new schemes germinating in his brain; they played against -one another, their hands undeclared, a blind, tentative game. This -conversation, which had begun as it were accidentally, fortuitously, -turned to a grave significance along a road whose end lay hidden far -behind the hills of the future. It led, perhaps, nowhere. It led, -perhaps.... - -Eve said lightly,-- - -'I am outdistanced by Kato and my cousin; I don't understand politics, -or those impersonal friendships.' - -'Mademoiselle,' Malteios replied, choosing his words and infusing into -them an air of confidence, 'I tell you an open secret, but one to which -I would never refer save with a sympathetic listener like yourself, -when I tell you that for many years a friendship existed between myself -and Madame Kato, political indeed, but not impersonal. Madame Kato,' he -said, drawing his chair a little nearer and lowering his voice, 'is not -of the impersonal type.' - -Eve violently rebelled from his nearness; fastidious, she loathed his -goatish smile, his beard, his rosy lips, but she continued to smile to -him, a man who held, perhaps, one of Julian's secrets. She was aware -of the necessity of obtaining that secret. Of the dishonour towards -Julian, sleeping away his hurts and his fatigue in the room above, -she was blindly unaware. Love to her was a battle, not a fellowship. -She must know! Already her soul, eagerly receptive and bared to the -dreaded blow, had adopted the theory of betrayal. In the chaos of -her resentments and suspicions, she remembered how Kato had spoken -to her in the morning, and without further reflection branded that -conversation as a blind. She even felt a passing admiration for the -other woman's superior cleverness. She, Eve, had been completely taken -in.... So she must contend, not only against the Islands, but against -Kato also? Anguish and terror rushed over her. She scarcely knew what -she believed or did not believe, only that her mind was one seething -and surging tumult of mistrust and all-devouring jealousy. She was -on the point of abandoning her temperamentally indirect methods, -of stretching out her hands to Malteios, and crying to him for the -agonising, the fiercely welcome truth, when he said,-- - -'Impersonal? Do you, mademoiselle, know anything of your sex? Ah, -charming! disturbing, precious, indispensable, even heroic, tant que -vous voudrez, but impersonal, no! Man, yes, sometimes. Woman, never. -Never.' He took her hand, patted it, kissed the wrist, and murmured, -'Chère enfant, these are not ideas for your pretty head.' - -She knew from experience that his preoccupation with such theories, if -no more sinister motive, would urge him towards a resumption of the -subject, and after a pause full of cogitation he continued,-- - -'Follow my advice, mademoiselle: never give your heart to a man -concerned in other affairs. You may love, both of you, but you will -strive in opposite directions. Your cousin, for example.... And yet,' -he mused, 'you are a woman to charm the leisure of a man of action. -The toy of a conqueror.' He laughed. 'Fortunately, conquerors are -rare.' But she knew he hovered round the image of Julian. 'Believe me, -leave such men to such women as Kato; they are more truly kin. You--I -discover you--are too exorbitant; love would play too absorbing a rôle. -You would tolerate no rival, neither a person nor a fact. Your eyes -smoulder; I am near the truth?' - -'One could steal the man from his affairs,' she said almost inaudibly. - -'The only hope,' he replied. - -A long silence fell, and his evil benevolence gained on her; on her -aroused sensitiveness his unspoken suggestions fell one by one as -definitely as the formulated word. He watched her; she trembled, half -compelled by his gaze. At length, under the necessity of breaking the -silence, she said,-- - -'Kato is not such a woman; she would resent no obstacle.' - -'Wiser,' he added, 'she would identify herself with it.' - -He began to banter horribly,-- - -'Ah, child, Eve, child made for love, daily bless your cousinship! -Bless its contemptuous security. Smile over the confabulations of -Kato and your cousin. Smile to think that he, she, and the Islands -are bound in an indissoluble triology. If there be jealousy to -suffer, rejoice in that it falls, not to your share, but to mine, who -am old and sufficiently philosophical. Age and experience harden, -you know. Else, I could not see Anastasia Kato pass to another with -so negligible a pang. Yet the imagination makes its own trouble. A -jealous imagination.... Very vivid. Pictures of Anastasia Kato in -your cousin's arms--ah, crude, crude, I know, but the crudity of the -jealous imagination is unequalled. Not a detail escapes. That is why I -say, bless your cousinship and its security.' He glanced up and met -her tortured eyes. 'As I bless my philosophy of the inevitable,' he -finished softly, caressing her hand which he had retained all the while. - -No effort at 'Impossible!' escaped her; almost from the first she had -blindly adopted his insinuations. She even felt a perverse gratitude -towards him, and a certain fellowship. They were allies. Her mind was -now set solely upon one object. That self-destruction might be involved -did not occur to her, nor would she have been deterred thereby. Like -Samson, she had her hands upon the columns.... - -'Madame Kato lives in this house?' asked Malteios, as one who has been -following a train of thought. - -She shook her head, and he noticed that her eyes were turned slightly -inwards, as with the effort of an immense concentration. - -'You have power,' he said with admiration. - -Bending towards her, he began to speak in a very low, rapid voice; she -sat listening to him, by no word betraying her passionate attention, -nodding only from time to time, and keeping her hands very still, -linked in her lap. Only once she spoke, to ask a question, 'He would -leave Herakleion?' and Malteios replied, 'Inevitably; the question of -the Islands would be for ever closed for him;' then she said, producing -the words from afar off, 'He would be free,' and Malteios, working -in the dark, following only one of the two processes of her thought, -reverted to Kato; his skill could have been greater in playing upon the -instrument, but even so it sufficed, so taut was the stringing of the -cords. When he had finished speaking, she asked him another question, -'He could never trace the thing to me?' and he reassured her with a -laugh so natural and contemptuous that she, in her ingenuity, was -convinced. All the while she had kept her eyes fastened on his face, on -his rosy lips moving amongst his beard, that she might lose no detail -of his meaning or his instructions, and at one moment he had thought, -'There is something terrible in this child,' but immediately he had -crushed the qualm, thinking, 'By this recovery, if indeed it is to be, -I am a made man,' and thanking the fate that had cast this unforeseen -chance across his path. Finally she heard his voice change from its -earnest undertone to its customary platitudinous flattery, and turning -round she saw that Julian had come into the room, his eyes already bent -with brooding scorn upon the emissary. - - - - -VI - - -She was silent that evening, so silent that Grbits, the unobservant, -commented to Kato; but after they had dined, all four, by the fountain -in the court, she flung aside her preoccupation, laughed and sang, -forced Kato to the piano, and danced with reckless inspiration to -the accompaniment of Kato's songs. Julian, leaning against a column, -watched her bewildering gaiety. She had galvanised Grbits into -movement--he who was usually bashful with women, especially with Eve, -reserving his enthusiasm for Julian--and as she passed and re-passed -before Julian in the grasp of the giant she flung at him provocative -glances charged with a special meaning he could not interpret; in the -turn of her dance he caught her smile and the flash of her eyes, and -smiled in response, but his smile was grave, for his mind ran now upon -the crisis with Herakleion, and, moreover, he suffered to see Eve so -held by Grbits, her turbulent head below the giant's shoulder, and -regretted that her gaiety should not be reserved for him alone. Across -the court, through the open door of the drawing-room, he could see Kato -at the piano, full of delight, her broad little fat hands and wrists -racing above the keyboard, her short torso swaying to the rhythm, her -rich voice humming, and the gold wheat ears shaking in her hair. She -called to him, and, drawing a chair close to the piano, he sat beside -her, but through the door he continued to stare at Eve dancing in -the court. Kato said as she played, her perception sharpened by the -tormented watch she kept on him,-- - -'Eve celebrates your victory of yesterday,' to which he replied, -deceived by the kindly sympathy in her eyes,-- - -'Eve celebrates her own high spirits and the enjoyment of a new -partner; my doings are of the last indifference to her.' - -Kato played louder; she bent towards him,-- - -'You love her so much, Julian?' - -He made an unexpected answer,-- - -'I believe in her.' - -Kato, a shrewd woman, observed him, thinking,--'He does not; he wants -to convince himself.' - -She said aloud, conscientiously wrenching out the truth as she saw it,-- - -'She loves you; she is capable of love such as is granted to few; that -is the sublime in her.' - -He seized upon this, hungrily, missing meanwhile the sublime in the -honesty of the singer,-- - -'Since I am given so much, I should not exact more. The Islands.... She -gives all to me. I ought not to force the Islands upon her.' - -'Grapes of thistles,' Kato said softly. - -'You understand,' he murmured with gratitude. 'But why should she -hamper me, Anastasia? Are all women so irrational? What am I to -believe?' - -'We are not so irrational as we appear,' Kato said, 'because our -wildest sophistry has always its roots in the truth of instinct.' - -Eve was near them, crying out,-- - -'A tarantella, Anastasia!' - -Julian sprang up; he caught her by the wrist,-- - -'Gipsy!' - -'Come with the gipsy?' she whispered. - -Her scented hair blew near him, and her face was upturned, with its -soft, sweet mouth. - -'Away from Aphros?' he said, losing his head. - -'All over the world!' - -He was suddenly swept away by the full force of her wild, irresponsible -seduction. - -'Anywhere you choose, Eve.' - -She triumphed, close to him, and wanton. - -'You'd sacrifice Aphros to me?' - -'Anything you asked for,' he said desperately. - -She laughed, and danced away, stretching out her hands towards him,-- - -'Join in the saraband, Julian?' - - -She was alone in her room. Her emotion and excitement were so intense -that they drained her of physical strength, leaving her faint and -cold; her eyes closed now and then as under the pressure of pain; she -yawned, and her breath came shortly between her lips; she sat by the -open window, rose to move about the room, sat again, rose again, passed -her hand constantly over her forehead, or pressed it against the base -of her throat. The room was in darkness; there was no moon, only the -stars hung over the black gulf of the sea. She could see the long, low -lights of Herakleion, and the bright red light of the pier. She could -hear distant shouting, and an occasional shot. In the room behind her, -her bed was disordered. She wore only her Spanish shawl thrown over her -long nightgown; her hair hung in its thick plait. Sometimes she formed, -in a whisper, the single word, 'Julian!' - -She thought of Julian. Julian's rough head and angry eyes. Julian when -he said, 'I shall break you,' like a man speaking to a wild young -supple tree. (Her laugh of derision, and her rejoicing in her secret -fear!) Julian in his lazy ownership of her beauty. Julian when he -allowed her to coax him from his moroseness. Julian when she was afraid -of him and of the storm she had herself aroused: Julian passionate.... - -Julian whom she blindly wanted for herself alone. - -That desire had risen to its climax. The light of no other -consideration filtered through into her closely shuttered heart. She -had waited for Julian, schemed for Julian, battled for Julian; this -was the final battle. She had not foreseen it. She had tolerated and -even welcomed the existence of the Islands until she began to realise -that they took part of Julian from her. Then she hated them insanely, -implacably; including Kato, whom Julian had called their tutelary -deity, in that hatred. Had Julian possessed a dog, she would have hated -that too. - -The ambitions she had vaguely cherished for him had not survived the -test of surrendering a portion of her own inordinate claim. - -She had joined battle with the Islands as with a malignant personality. -She was fighting them for the possession of Julian as she might have -fought a woman she thought more beautiful, more unscrupulous, more -appealing than herself, but with very little doubt of ultimate victory. -Julian would be hers, at last; more completely hers than he had been -even in those ideal, uninterrupted days before Grbits and Kato came, -the days when he forgot his obligations, almost his life's dream for -her. Love all-eclipsing.... She stood at the window, oppressed and -tense, but in the soft silken swaying of her loose garments against her -limbs she still found a delicately luxurious comfort. - -Julian had been called away, called by the violent hammering on the -house-door; it had then been after midnight. Two hours had passed since -then. No one had come to her, but she had heard the tumult of many -voices in the streets, and by leaning far out of the window she could -see a great flare burning up from the market-place. She had thought a -house might be on fire. She could not look back over her dispositions; -they had been completed in a dream, as though under direct dictation. -It did not occur to her to be concerned as to their possible -miscarriage; she was too ignorant of such matters, too unpractical, -to be troubled by any such anxiety. She had carried out Malteios' -instructions with intense concentration; there her part had ended. The -fuse which she had fired was burning.... If Julian would return, to put -an end to her impatience! - -(Down in the market-place the wooden school-buildings flamed and -crackled, redly lighting up the night, and fountains of sparks flew -upward against the sky. The lurid market-place was thronged with sullen -groups of islanders, under the guard of the soldiers of Herakleion. In -the centre, on the cobbles, lay the body of Tsigaridis, on his back, -arms flung open, still, in the enormous pool of blood that crept and -stained the edges of his spread white fustanelle. Many of the islanders -were not fully dressed, but had run out half-naked from their houses, -only to be captured and disarmed by the troops; the weapons which had -been taken from them lay heaped near the body of Tsigaridis, the light -of the flames gleaming along the blades of knives and the barrels of -rifles, and on the bare bronzed chests of men, and limbs streaked with -trickles of bright red blood. They stood proudly, contemptuous of -their wounds, arms folded, some with rough bandages about their heads. -Panaïoannou, leaning both hands on the hilt of his sword, and grinning -sardonically beneath his fierce moustaches, surveyed the place from the -steps of the assembly-room). - -Eve in her now silent room realised that all sounds of tumult had -died away. A shivering came over her, and, impelled by a suddenly -understood necessity, she lit the candles on her dressing-table and, -as the room sprang into light, began flinging the clothes out of the -drawers into a heap in the middle of the floor. They fluttered softly -from her hands, falling together in all their diverse loveliness of -colour and fragility of texture. She paused to smile to them, friends -and allies. She remembered now, with the fidelity of a child over a -well-learnt lesson, the final words of Malteios, 'A boat ready for you -both to-night, secret and without delay,' as earlier in the evening she -had remembered his other words, 'Midnight, at the creek at the back of -the islands ...'; she had acted upon her lesson mechanically, and in -its due sequence, conscientious, trustful. - -She stood amongst her clothes, the long red sari which she had worn -on the evening of Julian's first triumph drooping from her hand. They -foamed about her feet as she stood doubtfully above them, strangely -brilliant herself in her Spanish shawl. They lay in a pool of rich -delicacy upon the floor. They hung over the backs of chairs, and across -the tumbled bed. They pleased her; she thought them pretty. Stooping, -she raised them one by one, and allowed them to drop back on to the -heap, aware that she must pack them and must also dress herself. But -she liked their butterfly colours and gentle rustle, and, remembering -that Julian liked them too, smiled to them again. He found her standing -there amongst them when after a knock at her door he came slowly into -her room. - -He remained by the door for a long while looking at her in silence. She -had made a sudden, happy movement towards him, but inexplicably had -stopped, and with the sari still in her hand gazed back at him, waiting -for him to speak. He looked above all, mortally tired. She discovered -no anger in his face, not even sorrow; only that mortal weariness. She -was touched; she to whom those gentler emotions were usually foreign. - -'Julian?' she said, seized with doubt. - -'It is all over,' he began, quite quietly, and he put his hand against -his forehead, which was still bandaged, raising his arm with the same -lassitude; 'they landed where young Zapantiotis was on guard, and he -let them through; they were almost at the village before they were -discovered. There was very little fighting. They have allowed me to -come here. They are waiting for me downstairs. I am to leave.' - -'Yes,' she said, and looked down at her heap of clothes. - -He did not speak again, and gradually she realised the implication of -his words. - -'Zapantiotis....' she said. - -'Yes,' he said, raising his eyes again to her face, 'yes, you see, -Zapantiotis confessed it all to me when he saw me. He was standing -amongst a group of prisoners, in the market-place, but when I came -by he broke away from the guards and screamed out to me that he had -betrayed us. Betrayed us. He said he was tempted, bribed. He said he -would cut his own throat. But I told him not to do that.' - -She began to tremble, wondering how much he knew. He added, in the -saddest voice she had ever heard,-- - -'Zapantiotis, an islander, could not be faithful.' - -Then she was terrified; she did not know what was coming next, what -would be the outcome of this quietness. She wanted to go towards him, -but she could only remain motionless, holding the sari up to her breast -as a means of protection. - -'At least,' he said, 'old Zapantiotis is dead, and will never know -about his son. Where can one look for fidelity? Tsigaridis is dead too, -and Grbits. I am ashamed of being alive.' - -She noticed then that he was disarmed. - -'Why do you stand over there, Julian?' she said timidly. - -'I wonder how much you promised Zapantiotis?' he said in a speculative -voice; and next, stating a fact, 'You were, of course, acting on -Malteios' suggestion.' - -'You know?' she breathed. She was quite sure now that he was going to -kill her. - -'Zapantiotis tried to tell me that too--in a strange jumble of -confessions. But they dragged him away before he could say more than -your bare name. That was enough for me. So I know, Eve.' - -'Is that all you were going to say?' - -He raised his arms and let them fall. - -'What is there to say?' - -Knowing him very well, she saw that his quietness was dropping from -him; she was aware of it perhaps before he was aware of it himself. -His eyes were losing their dead apathy, and were travelling round the -room; they rested on the heap of clothes, on her own drawing of himself -hanging on the wall, on the disordered bed. They flamed suddenly, and -he made a step towards her. - -'Why? why? why?' he cried out with the utmost anguish and vehemence, -but stopped himself, and stood with clenched fists. She shrank away. -'All gone--in an hour!' he said, and striding towards her he stood -over her, shaken with a tempest of passion. She shrank farther from -him, retreating against the wall, but first she stooped and gathered -her clothes around her again, pressing her back against the wall and -cowering with the clothes as a rampart round her feet. But as yet full -realisation was denied her; she knew that he was angry, she thought -indeed that he might kill her, but to other thoughts of finality she -was, in all innocence, a stranger. - -He spoke incoherently, saying, 'All gone! All gone!' in accents of -blind pain, and once he said, 'I thought you loved me,' putting his -hands to his head as though walls were crumbling. He made no further -reproach, save to repeat, 'I thought the men were faithful, and that -you loved me,' and all the while he trembled with the effort of his -self-control, and his twitching hands reached out towards her once -or twice, but he forced them back. She thought, 'How angry he is! but -he will forget, and I shall make up to him for what he has lost.' So, -between them, they remained almost silent, breathing hard, and staring -at one another. - -'Come, put up your clothes quickly,' he said at last, pointing; 'they -want us off the island, and if we do not go of our own accord they will -tie our hands and feet and carry us to the boat. Let us spare ourselves -that ludicrous scene. We can marry in Athens to-morrow.' - -'Marry?' she repeated. - -'Naturally. What else did you suppose? That I should leave you? now? -Put up your clothes. Shall I help you? Come!' - -'But--marry, Julian?' - -'Clearly: marry,' he replied in a harsh voice, and added, 'Let us go. -For God's sake, let us go now! I feel stunned, I mustn't begin to -think. Let us go.' He urged her towards the door. - -'But we had nothing to do with marriage,' she whispered. - -He cried, so loudly and so bitterly that she was startled,-- - -'No, we had to do only with love--love and rebellion! And both have -failed me. Now, instead of love, we must have marriage; and instead of -rebellion, law. I shall help on authority, instead of opposing it.' He -broke down and buried his face in his hands. - -'You no longer love me,' she said slowly, and her eyes narrowed and -turned slightly inwards in the way Malteios had noticed. 'Then the -Islands....' - -He pressed both hands against his temples and screamed like one -possessed, 'But they were all in all in all! It isn't the thing, it's -the soul behind the thing. In robbing me of them you've robbed me of -more than them--you've robbed me of all the meaning that lay behind -them.' He retained just sufficient self-possession to realise this. 'I -knew you were hostile, how could I fail to know it? but I persuaded -myself that you were part of Aphros, part of all my beliefs, even -something beyond all my beliefs. I loved you, so you and they had to -be reconciled. I reconciled you in secret. I gave up mentioning the -Islands to you because it stabbed me to see your indifference. It -destroyed the illusion I was cherishing. So I built up fresh, separate -illusions about you. I have been living on illusions, now I have -nothing left but facts. I owe this to you, to you, to you!' - -'You no longer love me,' she said again. She could think of nothing -else. She had not listened to his bitter and broken phrases. 'You no -longer love me, Julian.' - -'I was so determined that I would be deceived by no woman, and like -every one else I have fallen into the trap. Because you were you, I -ceased to be on my guard. Oh, you never pretended to care for Aphros; -I grant you that honesty; but I wanted to delude myself and so I was -deluded. I told myself marvellous tales of your rarity; I thought you -were above even Aphros. I am punished for my weakness in bringing you -here. Why hadn't I the strength to remain solitary? I reproach myself; -I had not the right to expose my Islands to such a danger. But how -could I have known? how could I have known?' - -'Clearly you no longer love me,' she said for the third time. - -'Zapantiotis sold his soul for money--was it money you promised him?' -he went on. 'So easily--just for a little money! His soul, and all of -us, for money. Money, father's god; he's a wise man, father, to serve -the only remunerative god. Was it money you promised Zapantiotis?' he -shouted at her, seizing her by the arm, 'or was he, perhaps, like -Paul, in love with you? Did you perhaps promise him yourself? How am -I to know? There may still be depths in you--you woman--that I know -nothing about. Did you give yourself to Zapantiotis? Or is he coming -to-night for his reward? Did you mean to ship me off to Athens, you and -your accomplices, while you waited here in this room--_our_ room--for -your lover?' - -'Julian!' she cried--he had forced her on to her knees--'you are saying -monstrous things.' - -'You drive me to them,' he replied; 'when I think that while the troops -were landing you lay in my arms, here, knowing all the while that you -had betrayed me--I could believe anything of you. Monstrous things! -Do you know what monstrous things I am thinking? That you shall not -belong to Zapantiotis, but to me. Yes, to me. You destroy love, but -desire revives, without love; horrible, but sufficient. That's what I -am thinking. I dare say I could kiss you still, and forget. Come!' - -He was beside himself. - -'Your accusations are so outrageous,' she said, half-fainting, 'your -suggestions are obscene, Julian; I would rather you killed me at once.' - -'Then answer me about Zapantiotis. How am I to know?' he repeated, -already slightly ashamed of his outburst, 'I'm readjusting my ideas. -Tell me the truth; I scarcely care.' - -'Believe what you choose,' she replied, although he still held her, -terrified, on the ground at his feet, 'I have more pride than you -credit me with--too much to answer you.' - -'It was money,' he said after a pause, releasing her. She stood up; -reaction overcame her, and she wept. - -'Julian, that you should believe that of me! You cut me to the -quick--and I gave myself to you with such pride and gladness' she -added almost inaudibly. - -'Forgive me; I suppose you, also, have your own moral code; I have -speculated sufficiently about it, Heaven knows, but that means very -little to me now,' he said, more quietly, and with even a spark of -detached interest and curiosity. But he did not pursue the subject. -'What do you want done with your clothes? We have wasted quite enough -time.' - -'You want me to come with you?' - -'You sound incredulous; why?' - -'I know you have ceased to love me. You spoke of marrying me. Your -love must have been a poor flimsy thing, to topple over as it has -toppled! Mine is more tenacious, alas. It would not depend on outside -happenings.' - -'How dare you accuse me?' he said,' You destroy and take from me all -that I care for' ('Yes,' she interpolated, as much bitterness in her -voice as in his own--but all the time they were talking against one -another--'you cared for everything but me'), 'then you brand my love -for you as a poor flimsy thing. If you have killed it, you have done so -by taking away the one thing....' - -'That you cared for more than for me,' she completed. - -'With which I would have associated you. You yourself made that -association impossible. You hated the things I loved. Now you've killed -those things, and my love for you with them. You've killed everything I -cherished and possessed.' - -'Dead? Irretrievably?' she whispered. - -'Dead.' - -He saw her widened and swimming eyes, and added, too much stunned for -personal malice, yet angry because of the pain he was suffering,-- - -'You shall never be jealous of me again. I think I've loved all women, -loving you--gone through the whole of love, and now washed my hands -of it; I've tested and plumbed your vanity, your hideous egotism'--she -was crying like a child, unreservedly, her face hidden against her -arm--'your lack of breadth in everything that was not love.' - -As he spoke, she raised her face and he saw light breaking on -her--although it was not, and never would be, precisely the light he -desired. It was illumination and horror; agonised horror, incredulous -dismay. Her eyes were streaming with tears, but they searched him -imploringly, despairingly, as in a new voice she said,-- - -'I've hurt you, Julian ... how I've hurt you! Hurt you! I would have -died for you. Can't I put it right? oh, tell me! Will you kill me?' and -she put her hand up to her throat, offering it. 'Julian, I've hurt you -... my own, my Julian. What have I done? What madness made me do it? -Oh, what is there now for me to do? only tell me; I do beseech you only -to tell me. Shall I go--to whom?--to Malteios? I understand nothing; -you must tell me. I wanted you so greedily; you must believe that. -Anything, anything you want me to do.... It wasn't sufficient, to love -you, to want you; I gave you all I had, but it wasn't sufficient. I -loved you wrongly, I suppose; but I loved you, I loved you!' - -He had been angry, but now he was seized with a strange pity; pity of -her childish bewilderment: the thing that she had perpetrated was a -thing she could not understand. She would never fully understand.... He -looked at her as she stood crying, and remembered her other aspects, in -the flood-time of her joy, careless, radiant, irresponsible; they had -shared hours of illimitable happiness. - -'Eve! Eve!' he cried, and through the wrenching despair of his cry he -heard the funeral note, the tear of cleavage like the downfall of a -tree. - -He took her in his arms and made her sit upon the bed; she continued -to weep, and he sat beside her, stroking her hair. He used terms of -endearment towards her, such as he had never used in the whole course -of their passionate union, 'Eve, my little Eve'; and he kept on -repeating, 'my little Eve,' and pressing her head against his shoulder. - -They sat together like two children. Presently she looked up, pushing -back her hair with a gesture he knew well. - -'We both lose the thing we cared most for upon earth, Julian: you lose -the Islands, and I lose you.' - -She stood up, and gazed out of the window towards Herakleion. She stood -there for some time without speaking, and a fatal clearness spread over -her mind, leaving her quite strong, quite resolute, and coldly armoured -against every shaft of hope. - -'You want me to marry you,' she said at length. - -'You must marry me in Athens to-morrow, if possible, and as soon as we -are married we can go to England.' - -'I utterly refuse,' she said, turning round towards him. - -He stared at her; she looked frail and tired, and with one small white -hand held together the edges of her Spanish shawl. She was no longer -crying. - -'Do you suppose,' she went on, 'that not content with having ruined -the beginning of your life for you--I realise it now, you see--I shall -ruin the rest of it as well? You may believe me or not, I speak the -truth like a dying person when I tell you I love you to the point of -sin; yes, it's a sin to love as I love you. It's blind, it's criminal. -It's my curse, the curse of Eve, to love so well that one loves badly. -I didn't see. I wanted you too blindly. Even now I scarcely understand -how you can have ceased to love me.--No, don't speak. I do understand -it--in a way; and yet I don't understand it. I don't understand that -an idea can be dearer to one than the person one loves.... I don't -understand responsibilities; when you've talked about responsibilities -I've sometimes felt that I was made of other elements than you.... But -you're a man, and I'm a woman; that's the rift. Perhaps it's a rift -that can never be bridged. Never mind that. Julian, you must find some -more civilised woman than myself; find a woman who will be a friend, -not an enemy. Love makes me into an enemy, you see. Find somebody more -tolerant, more unselfish. More maternal. Yes, that's it,' she said, -illuminated, 'more maternal; I'm only a lover, not a mother. You told -me once that I was of the sort that sapped and destroyed. I'll admit -that, and let you go. You mustn't waste yourself on me. But, oh, -Julian,' she said, coming close to him, 'if I give you up--because -in giving you up I utterly break myself--grant me one justice: never -doubt that I loved you. Promise me, Julian. I shan't love again. But -don't doubt that I loved you; don't argue to yourself, "She broke my -illusions, therefore she never loved me," let me make amends for what I -did, by sending you away now without me.' - -'I was angry; I was lying; I wanted to hurt you as you had hurt me,' he -said desperately. 'How can I tell what I have been saying to you? I've -been dazed, struck.... It's untrue that I no longer love you. I love -you, in spite, in spite.... Love can't die in an hour.' - -'Bless you,' she said, putting her hand for a moment on his head, 'but -you can't deceive me. Oh,' she hurried on, 'you might deceive yourself; -you might persuade yourself that you still loved me and wanted me to -go with you; but I know better. I'm not for you. I'm not for your -happiness, or for any man's happiness. You've said it yourself: I am -different. I let you go because you are strong and useful--oh, yes, -useful! so disinterested and strong, all that I am not--too good for -me to spoil. You have nothing in common with me. Who has? I think I -haven't any kindred. I love you! I love you better than myself!' - -He stood up; he stammered in his terror and earnestness, but she only -shook her head. - -'No, Julian.' - -'You're too strong,' he cried, 'you little weak thing; stronger than I.' - -She smiled; he was unaware of the very small reserve of her strength. - -'Stronger than you,' she repeated; 'yes.' - -Again he implored her to go with him; he even threatened her, but she -continued to shake her head and to say in a faint and tortured voice,-- - -'Go now, Julian; go, my darling; go now, Julian.' - -'With you, or not at all.' He was at last seriously afraid that she -meant what she said, - -'Without me.' - -'Eve, we were so happy. Remember! Only come; we shall be as happy -again.' - -'You mustn't tempt me; it's cruel,' she said, shivering. 'I'm human.' - -'But I love you!' he said. He seized her hands, and tried to drag her -towards the door. - -'No,' she answered, putting him gently away from her. 'Don't tempt me, -Julian, don't; let me make amends in my own way.' - -Her gentleness and dignity were such that he now felt reproved, and, -dimly, that the wrong done was by him towards her, not by her towards -him. - -'You are too strong--magnificent, and heartbreaking,' he said in -despair. - -'As strong as a rock,' she replied, looking straight at him and -thinking that at any moment she must fall. But still she forced her -lips to a smile of finality. - -'Think better of it,' he was beginning, when they heard a stir of -commotion in the court below. - -'They are coming for you!' she cried out in sudden panic. 'Go; I can't -face any one just now....' - -He opened the door on to the landing. - -'Kato!' he said, falling back. Eve heard the note of fresh anguish in -his voice. - -Kato came in; even in that hour of horror they saw that she had merely -dragged a quilt round her shoulders, and that her hair was down her -back. In this guise her appearance was indescribably grotesque. - -'Defeated, defeated,' she said in lost tones to Julian. She did not see -that they had both involuntarily recoiled before her; she was beyond -such considerations. - -'Anastasia,' he said, taking her by the arm and shaking her slightly to -recall her from her bemusement, 'here is something more urgent--thank -God, you will be my ally--Eve must leave Aphros with me; tell her -so, tell her so; she refuses.' He shook her more violently with the -emphasis of his words. - -'If he wants you....' Kato said, looking at Eve, who had retreated into -the shadows and stood there, half fainting, supporting herself against -the back of a chair. 'If he wants you....' she repeated, in a stupid -voice, but her mind was far away. - -'You don't understand, Anastasia,' Eve answered; 'it was I that -betrayed him.' Again she thought she must fall. - -'She is lying!' cried Julian. - -'No,' said Eve. She and Kato stared at one another, so preposterously -different, yet with currents of truth rushing between them. - -'You!' Kato said at last, awaking. - -'I am sending him away,' said Eve, speaking as before to the other -woman. - -'You!' said Kato again. She turned wildly to Julian. 'Why didn't you -trust yourself to me, Julian, my beloved?' she cried; 'I wouldn't have -treated you so, Julian; why didn't you trust yourself to me?' She -pointed at Eve, silent and brilliant in her coloured shawl; then, her -glance falling upon her own person, so sordid, so unkempt, she gave a -dreadful cry and looked around as though seeking for escape. The other -two both turned their heads away; to look at Kato in that moment was -more than they could bear. - -Presently they heard her speaking again; her self-abandonment had been -brief; she had mastered herself, and was making it a point of honour to -speak with calmness. - -'Julian, the officers have orders that you must leave the island before -dawn; if you do not go to them, they will fetch you here. They are -waiting below in the courtyard now. Eve,'--her face altered,--'Eve is -right: if she has indeed done as she says, she cannot go with you. She -is right; she is more right, probably, than she has ever been in her -life before or ever will be again. Come, now; I will go with you.' - -'Stay with Eve, if I go,' he said. - -'Impossible!' replied Kato, instantly hardening, and casting upon Eve a -look of hatred and scorn. - -'How cruel you are, Anastasia!' said Julian, making a movement of pity -towards Eve. - -'Take him away, Anastasia,' Eve murmured, shrinking from him. - -'See, she understands me better than you do, and understands herself -better too,' said Kato, in a tone of cruel triumph; 'if you do not -come, Julian, I shall send up the officers.' As she spoke she went out -of the room, her quilt trailing, and her heel-less slippers clacking -on the boards. - -'Eve, for the last time....' - -A cry was wrenched from her,-- - -'Go! if you pity me!' - -'I shall come back.' - -'Oh, no, no!' she replied, 'you'll never come back. One doesn't live -through such things twice.' She shook her head like a tortured animal -that seeks to escape from pain. He gave an exclamation of despair, and, -after one wild gesture towards her, which she weakly repudiated, he -followed Kato. Eve heard their steps upon the stairs, then crossing the -courtyard, and the tramp of soldiers; the house-door crashed massively. -She stooped very slowly and mechanically, and began to pick up the gay -and fragile tissue of her clothes. - - - - -VII - - -She laid them all in orderly fashion across the bed, smoothing out the -folds with a care that was strangely opposed to her usual impatience. -Then she stood for some time drawing the thin silk of the sari through -her fingers and listening for sounds in the house; there were none. The -silence impressed her with the fact that she was alone. - -'Gone!' she thought, but she made no movement. - -Her eyes narrowed and her mouth became contracted with pain. - -'Julian ...' she murmured, and, finding some slippers, she thrust her -bare feet into them with sudden haste and threw the corner of her shawl -over her shoulder. - -She moved now with feverish speed; any one seeing her face would have -exclaimed that she was not in conscious possession of her will, but -would have shrunk before the force of her determination. She opened the -door upon the dark staircase and went rapidly down; the courtyard was -lit by a torch the soldiers had left stuck and flaring in a bracket. -She had some trouble with the door, tearing her hands and breaking her -nails upon the great latch, but she felt nothing, dragged it open, and -found herself in the street. At the end of the street she could see the -glare from the burning buildings of the market-place, and could hear -the shout of military orders. - -She knew she must take the opposite road; Malteios had told her that. -'Go by the mule-path over the hill; it will lead you straight to the -creek where the boat will be waiting,' he had said. 'The boat for -Julian and me,' she kept muttering to herself as she speeded up the -path stumbling over the shallow steps and bruising her feet upon the -cobbles. It was very dark. Once or twice as she put out her hand to -save herself from falling she encountered only a prickly bush of aloe -or gorse, and the pain stung her, causing a momentary relief. - -'I mustn't hurry too much,' she said to herself, 'I mustn't arrive at -the creek before they have pushed off the boat. I mustn't call out....' - -She tried to compare her pace with that of Julian, Kato, and the -officers, and ended by sitting down for a few minutes at the highest -point of the path, where it had climbed over the shoulder of the -island, and was about to curve down upon the other side. From this -small height, under the magnificent vault studded with stars, she could -hear the sigh of the sea and feel the slight breeze ruffling her hair. -'Without Julian, without Julian--no, never,' she said to herself, and -that one thought revolved in her brain. 'I'm alone,' she thought, -'I've always been alone.... I'm an outcast, I don't belong here....' -She did not really know what she meant by this, but she repeated it -with a blind conviction, and a terrible loneliness overcame her. -'Oh, stars!' she said aloud, putting up her hands to them, and again -she did not know what she meant, either by the words or the gesture. -Then she realised that it was dark, and standing up she thought, 'I'm -frightened,' but there was no reply to the appeal for Julian that -followed immediately upon the thought. She clasped her shawl round -her, and tried to stare through the night; then she thought 'People on -the edge of death have no need to be frightened,' but for all that she -continued to look fearfully about her, to listen for sounds, and to -wish that Julian would come to take care of her. - -She went down the opposite side of the hill less rapidly than she had -come up. She knew she must not overtake Julian and his escort. She -did not really know why she had chosen to follow them, when any other -part of the coast would have been equally suitable for what she had -determined to do. But she kept thinking, as though it brought some -consolation, 'He passed along this path five--ten--minutes ago; he is -there somewhere, not far in front of me.' And she remembered how he had -begged her to go with him. ' ... But I couldn't have gone!' she cried, -half in apology to the dazzling happiness she had renounced, 'I was a -curse to him--to everything I touch. I could never have controlled my -jealousy, my exorbitance.... He asked me to go, to be with him always,' -she thought, sobbing and hurrying on; and she sobbed his name, like a -child, 'Julian! Julian! Julian!' - -Presently the path ceased to lead downhill and became flat, running -along the top of the rocky cliff about twenty feet above the sea. She -moved more cautiously, knowing that it would bring her to the little -creek where the boat was to be waiting; as she moved she blundered -constantly against boulders, for the path was winding and in the -starlight very difficult to follow. She was still fighting with -herself, 'No, I could not go with him; I am not fit.... I don't belong -here....' that reiterated cry. 'But without him--no, no, no! This is -quite simple. Will he think me bad? I hope not; I shall have done what -I could....' Her complexity had entirely deserted her, and she thought -in broad, childish lines. 'Poor Eve!' she thought suddenly, viewing -herself as a separate person, 'she was very young' (in her eyes youth -amounted to a moral virtue), 'Julian, Julian, be a little sorry for -her,--I was cursed, I was surely cursed,' she added, and at that moment -she found herself just above the creek. - -The path descended to it in rough steps, and with a beating heart -she crept down, helping herself by her hands, until she stood upon -the sand, hidden in the shadow of a boulder. The shadows were very -black and hunched, like the shadows of great beasts. She listened, -the softness of her limbs pressed against the harshness of the rocks. -She heard faint voices, and, creeping forward, still keeping in the -shadows, she made out the shape of a rowing-boat filled with men about -twenty yards from the shore. - -'Kato has gone with him!' was her first idea, and at that all her -jealousy flamed again--the jealousy that, at the bottom of her heart, -she knew was groundless, but could not keep in check. Anger revived -her--'Am I to waste myself on him?' she thought, but immediately she -remembered the blank that that one word 'Never!' could conjure up, and -her purpose became fixed again. 'Not life without him,' she thought -firmly and unchangeably, and moved forward until her feet were covered -by the thin waves lapping the sandy edge of the creek. She had thrown -off her shoes, standing barefoot on the soft wet sand. - -Here she paused to allow the boat to draw farther away. She knew that -she would cry out, however strong her will, and she must guard against -all chance of rescue. She waited at the edge of the creek, shivering, -and drawing her silk garments about her, and forcing herself to endure -the cold horror of the water washing round her ankles. How immense was -the night, how immense the sea!--The oars in the boat dipped regularly; -by now it was almost undistinguishable in the darkness. - -'What must I do?' she thought wildly, knowing the moment had come. -'I must run out as far as I can....' She sent an unuttered cry of -'Julian!' after the boat, and plunged forward; the coldness of the -water stopped her as it reached her waist, and the long silk folds -became entangled around her limbs, but she recovered herself and fought -her way forward. Instinctively she kept her hands pressed against her -mouth and nostrils, and her staring eyes tried to fathom this cruelly -deliberate death. Then the shelving coast failed her beneath her feet; -she had lost the shallows and was taken by the swell and rhythm of the -deep. A thought flashed through her brain, 'This is where the water -ceases to be green and becomes blue'; then in her terror she lost all -self-control and tried to scream; it was incredible that Julian, who -was so near at hand, should not hear and come to save her; she felt -herself tiny and helpless in that great surge of water; even as she -tried to scream she was carried forward and under, in spite of her wild -terrified battle against the sea, beneath the profound serenity of the -night that witnessed and received her expiation. - - -GLASGOW: W. COLLINS SONS AND CO. LTD. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Challenge, by Vita Sackville-West - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHALLENGE *** - -***** This file should be named 61925-8.txt or 61925-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/9/2/61925/ - -Produced by Tim Lindell, Martin Pettit and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This -book was produced from images made available by the -HathiTrust Digital Library.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/61925-8.zip b/old/61925-8.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 1fe0f93..0000000 --- a/old/61925-8.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/61925-h.zip b/old/61925-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 389fd7f..0000000 --- a/old/61925-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/61925-h/61925-h.htm b/old/61925-h/61925-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 930ce72..0000000 --- a/old/61925-h/61925-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,12663 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Challenge, by Vita Sackville-West. - </title> - <style type="text/css"> - - p { margin-top: .75em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .75em; - } - - p.bold {text-align: center; font-weight: bold;} - p.bold2 {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: 150%;} - - h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; - } - h1 span, h2 span { display: block; text-align: center; } - #id1 { font-size: smaller } - - - hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; - } - - body{margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; - } - - table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 5px; border-collapse: collapse; border: none; text-align: right;} - - .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - text-indent: 0px; - } /* page numbers */ - - .center {text-align: center;} - .smaller {font-size: smaller;} - .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - .mynote { background-color: #DDE; color: black; padding: .5em; margin-left: 20%; - margin-right: 20%; } /* colored box for notes at beginning of file */ - .space-above {margin-top: 3em;} - .right {text-align: right;} - .left {text-align: left;} - .s3 {display: inline; margin-left: 3em;} - - /* Poetry */ - .poem { - margin-left:10%; - margin-right:10%; - text-align: left; - } - - .poem br {display: none;} - - .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} - .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i9 {display: block; margin-left: 4.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Challenge, by Vita Sackville-West - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: Challenge - -Author: Vita Sackville-West - -Release Date: April 25, 2020 [EBook #61925] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHALLENGE *** - - - - -Produced by Tim Lindell, Martin Pettit and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This -book was produced from images made available by the -HathiTrust Digital Library.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="mynote"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:<br /><br /> -A Table of Contents has been added.<br /><br /> -Obvious typographic errors have been corrected.<br /></p></div> - -<hr /> - -<p class="bold2">CHALLENGE</p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="title page" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<h1>CHALLENGE</h1> - -<p class="bold space-above">BY</p> - -<p class="bold2">V. SACKVILLE-WEST</p> - -<div class="center space-above"><img src="images/logo.jpg" alt="logo" /></div> - -<p class="bold">GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY<br /> -<span class="smcap">Publishers</span> <span class="s3"> </span> <span class="smcap">New York</span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="bold">PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN</p> - -<hr /> - -<h2>DEDICATION</h2> - -<p class="center">ACABA EMBEO SIN TIRO, MEN CHUAJAÑI;<br /> -LIRENAS, BERJARAS TIRI OCHI BUSÑE,<br />CHANGERI, TA ARMENSALLE.</p> - -<hr /> - -<h2><span>CONTENTS</span></h2> - -<table summary="CONTENTS"> - <tr> - <td></td> - <td><span class="smaller">PAGE</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">EPILOGUE</td> - <td><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">PART I—JULIAN</td> - <td><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">I</td> - <td><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">II</td> - <td><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">III</td> - <td><a href="#Page_42">42</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">IV</td> - <td><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">V</td> - <td><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">PART II—EVE</td> - <td><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">I</td> - <td><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">II</td> - <td><a href="#Page_108">108</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">III</td> - <td><a href="#Page_128">128</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">IV</td> - <td><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">V</td> - <td><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">VI</td> - <td><a href="#Page_180">180</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">PART III—APHROS</td> - <td><a href="#Page_197">197</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">I</td> - <td><a href="#Page_199">199</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">II</td> - <td><a href="#Page_222">222</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">III</td> - <td><a href="#Page_235">235</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">IV</td> - <td><a href="#Page_240">240</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">V</td> - <td><a href="#Page_257">257</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">VI</td> - <td><a href="#Page_274">274</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">VII</td> - <td><a href="#Page_293">293</a></td> - </tr> - -</table> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> - -<h2>EPILOGUE</h2> - -<p>A man and a woman leaned idly over the balustrade -watching the steady stream of guests that mounted the -magnificent staircase. The marble of the balustrade was -cool beneath the woman's bare arms, for it was summer, -and the man, without interrupting his murmur of -comment and anecdote, glanced admiringly at her, and -thought that, in spite of her forty years, she, with -diamonds in her hair and the great ropes of pearls over -her shoulders, need not fear comparison with all the -beauty of London assembled at that ball. Her beauty -and dignity melted pleasantly, for him, into the wealth -of the house, the lights, the abundance of flowers, and -the distant orchestra. Again the idea that this woman, -for the asking, would decorate his own house with her -presence, and would ornament his own distinguished -name, played flatteringly through his mind. He reflected -with gratification that it lay within his power -to do her this honour. For, a vain man, he never -questioned but that the favour would lie entirely on his -side.</p> - -<p>He pointed out to her the famous general on the -stairs, escorting his daughter; the new American beauty; -the young man recently succeeded to fabulous estates; -the Indian prince who had turned the heads of half the -women in London. Skilful, she paid him the compliment -of interest and amusement, letting it be understood -that he was himself of far greater interest to her -than the personages who served as pegs to his wit. As -he paused once, she revived the conversation:—</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> -<p>'There is a man I have never seen before; that tall, -dark man. And the handsome woman with him—she -must be his wife.'</p> - -<p>'Why must she be his wife?' he asked, amused.</p> - -<p>'Because I am sure she is the type of woman he -would marry, stately and correct; am I not right?'</p> - -<p>'You are quite right; she is his wife. He has been -and still is a very successful man; an Under-Secretary -at thirty-five, and in the Cabinet before he was forty. -Many people think that he will be the next Viceroy.'</p> - -<p>At that moment the man on the stairs looked up, -and his eyes met those of the woman leaning on the -balustrade above.</p> - -<p>'What a wonderful face!' she exclaimed, startled, to -her companion. 'Wonderful—but he looks as though -he had learnt all the sorrow of the world.—He looks—what -shall I say?—so weary.'</p> - -<p>'Then he has no business to,' he answered with a -smile. 'He has everything man can wish for: power, -wealth, and, as you can see, an admirable wife. As -usual, however, your perception is unerring: he's the -most cynical fellow I ever came across. He believes in -nothing—and is incidentally the only real philanthropist -I know. His name is perfectly familiar to you. -It is Davenant.'</p> - -<p>'Oh,' she said, carried away by her interest, 'is that -Julian Davenant? Of course every one has heard of -him. Stay,' she added, searching in her memory, -'wasn't there some extraordinary story about him as -a young man? some crazy adventure he engaged in? -I don't remember exactly....'</p> - -<p>The man at her side began to laugh.</p> - -<p>'There was indeed,' he replied; 'do you remember -an absurd tiny republic named Herakleion, which has -since been absorbed by Greece?'</p> - -<p>'Herakleion?' she murmured. 'Why, I have been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> -there in a yacht, I believe; a little Greek port; but I -didn't know it had ever been an independent republic?'</p> - -<p>'Dear me, yes,' he said, 'it was independent for about -a hundred years, and Julian Davenant as a young man -was concerned in some preposterous revolution in those -parts; all his money comes, you know, from his vine-growing -estates out there. I am a little vague myself as -to what actually happened. He was very young at the -time, not much more than a boy.'</p> - -<p>'How romantic,' said the woman absently, as she -watched Julian Davenant shaking hands with his -hostess.</p> - -<p>'Very romantic, but we all start by being romantic -until we have outgrown it, and any way, don't you -think we are going, you and I, rather too much out of -our way this evening to look for romance?' said the -man, leaning confidentially a little nearer.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * *</p> - -<p>But these two people have nothing to do with the -story.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> - -<h2>PART I—JULIAN</h2> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> - -<h2>I</h2> - -<p>On Sunday, after the races were over, the diplomatic, -indigenous, and cosmopolitan society of Herakleion, by -virtue of a custom they never sought to dispute, -streamed through the turnstiles of the race-course to -regain their carriages and to drive for an hour in the -ilex avenue consecrated to that purpose outside the -suburbs of the town. Like the angels on Jacob's ladder, -the carriages went up one side and down the other, at -a slow walk, the procession invariably headed by the -barouche of the French Legation, containing M. Lafarge, -chief of the mission, his beard spread fan-like over his -frock-coat, but so disposed as to reveal the rosette in -his button-hole, peeping with a coy red eye at the passing -world; Madame Lafarge, sitting erect and bowing -stiffly from her unassailable position as dictator to social -Herakleion; and, on the <i>strapontin</i>, Julie Lafarge, -repressed, sallow-faced daughter of the emissaries of -France. Streaming after the barouche came mere -humanity, some in victorias, some in open cabs, all -going at a walk, and down the centre rode the young -men of the place, and down the centre Alexander -Christopoulos, who dared all and to whom all was -forgiven, drove his light buggy and American trotter at -a rattling pace and in a cloud of dust.</p> - -<p>The diplomatic carriages were distinguished by the -presence of a chasseur on the box, though none so -gorgeous as the huge scarlet-coated chasseur of the -French Legation. It was commonly said that the -Danish Minister and his wife, who were poor, denied -themselves food in order to maintain their carriage for -the Sunday drive. The rich Greeks, on the other hand,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> -from generation to generation, inherited the family -brake, which was habitually driven by the head of -the clan on the box, his wife beside him, and his sons -and unmarried daughters sitting two by two, on the -six remaining seats behind. There had been a rush -of scandal when Alexander Christopoulos had appeared -for the first time alone in his buggy, his seat in the -family brake conspicuously empty. There remained, -however, his four sisters, the Virgins of Herakleion, -whose ages ranged from thirty-five to forty, and -whose batteries were unfailingly directed against the -latest arrival. The fifth sister had married a banker -in Frankfort, and was not often mentioned. There were, -besides the brakes of the rich Greeks, the wagonettes of -the English Davenants, who always had English coachmen, -and frequently absented themselves from the -Sunday drive to remind Herakleion that, although -resident, they were neither diplomatic, indigenous, nor -cosmopolitan, but unalterably English. They were too -numerous and too influential to be disregarded, but -when the name of Davenant was mentioned in their -absence, a murmur was certain to make itself heard, -discreet, unvindictive, but none the less remorseless, -'Ah yes, the English Levantines.'</p> - -<p>Sunshades were lowered in the ilex avenue, for the -shadows of the ancient trees fell cool and heavy across -the white dust. Through the ilexes, the sea glimmered -on a lower level, washing idly on the shore; vainly blue, -for Herakleion had no eyes for the sea. The sea was -always there, always blue, just as Mount Mylassa was -always there, behind the town, monotonous and -immovable. The sea was made for the transport of -merchandise and to provide man with fish. No one -had ever discovered a purpose in Mount Mylassa.</p> - -<p>When the French barouche had reached the end of -the avenue, it turned gravely in a wide circle and took<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> -its place at the head of the descending carriages. When -it had reached its starting-point, the entrance to the -avenue, it detached itself from the procession and -continued on its way towards the town. The procession -did not follow it. Another turn up and down the -avenue remained for the procession, and the laughter -became perceptibly brighter, the smiles of greeting more -cordial, with the removal of Madame Lafarge's influence. -It was known that the barouche would pass the race-course -at its former dignified walk, but that, once out -of sight, Madame Lafarge would say, '<i>Grigora</i>, Vassili!' -to the chasseur, that the horses would be urged into a -shambling trot and that the ladies in the carriage would -open their sunshades to keep off the glare of the sun -which beat down from heaven and reverberated from -the pavements and the white walls of the houses -as they drove through the streets of the deserted -town.</p> - -<p>Deserted, for that part of the population which was -not within doors strolled in the ilex avenue, looking at -the carriages. A few lean dogs slept on door-steps -where the shadow of the portico fell sharply dividing the -step into a dark and a sunny half. The barouche rolled -along the wide quay, where here and there the parapet -was broken by a flight of steps descending to the water; -passed the casino, white, with palms and cacti growing -hideously in the forecourt; rolled across the square -<i>platia</i>, where a group of men stood lounging within the -cool and cavernous passage-way of the club.</p> - -<p>Madame Lafarge stopped the barouche.</p> - -<p>A young man detached himself from the group with -a slightly bored and supercilious expression. He was -tall beyond the ordinary run of Frenchmen; had dark -eyes under meeting eyebrows in an ivory face, and an -immensely high, flat, white brow, from which the black -wavy hair grew straight back, smoothed to the polish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> -of a black greyhound. 'Our Persian miniature,' the -fat American wife of the Danish Minister, called him, -establishing herself as the wit of Herakleion, where any -one with sufficient presumption could establish him or -herself in any chosen rôle. The young man had accepted -the title languidly, but had taken care that it should not -die forgotten.</p> - -<p>Madame Lafarge said to him in a tone which conveyed -a command rather than proffered a favour, 'If -you like, we can drive you to the Legation.'</p> - -<p>She spoke in a booming voice that burst surprisingly -out of the compression of a generously furnished bust. -The young man, accepting the offer, seated himself -beside Julie on the <i>strapontin</i> opposite his chief, who -sat silent and majestically bearded. The immense -chasseur stood stiffly by the side of the carriage, his eyes -gazing unblinkingly across the <i>platia</i>, and the tips of his -long drooping whiskers obscuring the braid of his -scarlet collar. Madame Lafarge addressed herself to -the group of men,—</p> - -<p>'I did not see you at the races?'</p> - -<p>Her graciousness did not conceal the rebuke. She -continued,—</p> - -<p>'I shall hope to welcome you presently at the Legation.'</p> - -<p>With a bow worthy of Theodora, whom she had once -been told that she resembled, she gave the order to -drive on. The loaded barouche, with the splendid red -figure on the box, rolled away across the dazzling square. -The French Legation stood back behind a grille in the -main street of the town, built of white stucco like the -majority of the houses. Inside, it was cool and dark, -the Venetian blinds were drawn, and the lighted candles -in the sconces on the walls reflected pleasantly, and with -a curious effect of freshening night, in the polished floors. -Gilt chairs were arranged in circles, and little tables<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> -stood about, glitteringly laden with tall tumblers and -bottles of coloured sirops. Madame Lafarge surveyed -these things as she had surveyed them every Sunday -evening since Julie could remember. The young man -danced attendance in his languid way.</p> - -<p>'The chandeliers may be lighted,' her Excellency said -to the chasseur, who had followed.</p> - -<p>The three stood watching while the candles sprang -into little spears of light under the touch of the taper, -Madame Lafarge contrasting displeasedly the lemon -sallowness of her daughter's complexion with the warm -magnolia-like pallor of the secretary's face. The contrast -caused her to speak sharply,—</p> - -<p>'Julie, you had better go now and take off your hat.'</p> - -<p>When her submissive daughter had gone, she said,—</p> - -<p>'Julie is looking ill. The summer does not suit her. -But what is to be done? I cannot leave Herakleion.'</p> - -<p>'Obviously,' murmured the secretary, 'Herakleion -would fall all to pieces. Your Sunday evenings,' he -continued, 'the races ... your picnics....'</p> - -<p>'Impossible,' she cried with determination. 'One -owes a duty to the country one represents, and I have -always said that, whereas politics are the affairs of men, -the woman's social obligation is no less urgent. It is -a great career, Armand, and to such a career one must -be prepared to sacrifice one's personal convenience.'</p> - -<p>'And one's health ... the health of one's children,' -he added, looking down at his almond nails.</p> - -<p>'If need be,' she replied with a sigh, and, fanning -herself, repeated, 'If need be.'</p> - -<p>The rooms began to fill. A little middle-aged Greek, -his wrinkled saffron face curiously emphasised by the -beautiful whiteness of his hair and moustaches, took -his stand near Madame Lafarge, who in speaking to him -looked down on the top of his head over the broad -plateau of her bust.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> -<p>'These cool rooms of yours,' he murmured, as he -kissed her hand. 'One cannot believe in the heat of -the sun outside.'</p> - -<p>He made this remark every other Sunday.</p> - -<p>Lafarge came up and took the little Greek banker -by the arm.</p> - -<p>'I hear,' he said, 'that there is fresh trouble in the -Islands.'</p> - -<p>'We can leave it to the Davenants,' said Christopoulos -with an unpleasant smile.</p> - -<p>'But that is exactly what I have always urged you not -to do,' said the French Minister, drawing the little -Greek into a corner. 'You know the proverbial reputation -of the English: you do not see them coming, but -they insinuate themselves until one day you open your -eyes to the fact that they are there. You will be making -a very great mistake, my dear friend, if you allow the -Davenants to settle disputes in the Islands. Have you -forgotten that in the last generation a Davenant caused -himself to be elected President?'</p> - -<p>'Considering that they are virtually kings, I do not -see that the nominal title of President can make a vast -difference.'</p> - -<p>Lafarge sent his eyes round the room and through the -doorway into the room beyond; he saw the familiar, -daily faces, and returned to the charge.</p> - -<p>'You are pleased to be sarcastic, I know. Nevertheless -allow me to offer you my advice. It is not a question -of Kingship or Presidency. It is a question of a complete -break on the part of the Islands. They are small, but -their strategic value is self-evident. Remember Italy -has her eye upon them.... The Davenants are -democrats, and have always preached liberty to the -islanders. The Davenant wealth supports them. Can -you calmly contemplate the existence of an independent -archipelago a few miles from your shore?'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> -<p>A dull red crept under the banker's yellow skin, giving -him a suffused appearance.</p> - -<p>'You are very emphatic.'</p> - -<p>'The occasion surely warrants emphasis.'</p> - -<p>The rooms were by now quite full. Little centres of -laughter had formed themselves, and were distinguishable. -Alexander Christopoulos had once boasted that -he could, merely by looking round a room and arguing -from the juxtaposition of conversationalists, give a -fairly accurate <i>résumé</i> of what every one was saying. -He also claimed to tell from the expression of the -Danish Excellency whether she was or was not arriving -primed with a new epigram. He was now at the side -of the Danish Excellency, fat, fair, and foolish, but good-natured, -and having a fund of veritable humanity which -was lacking in most of her colleagues. The careful -English of Alexander reached his father's ears through -the babel,—</p> - -<p>'The Empress Eugénie set the fashion of wearing -<i>décolleté</i> in the shape the water in your bath makes -round your shoulders....'</p> - -<p>Lafarge went on,—</p> - -<p>'The Davenants are sly; they keep apart; they mix -with us, but they do not mingle. They are like oil upon -water. Where is William Davenant now, do you know?'</p> - -<p>'He is just arriving,' said Christopoulos.</p> - -<p>Lafarge saw him then, bowing over his hostess's -hand, polite, but with absent eyes that perpetually -strayed from the person he was talking to. Behind -him came a tall, loose-limbed boy, untidy, graceful; he -glanced at the various groups, and the women looked -at him with interest. A single leap might carry him at -any moment out of the room in which his presence seemed -so incongruous.</p> - -<p>The tall mirrors on the walls sent back the reflection -of the many candles, and in them the same spectral<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> -company came and went that moved and chattered in -the rooms.</p> - -<p>'At least he is not on the Islands,' said Christopoulos.</p> - -<p>'After all,' said Lafarge, with a sudden weariness, -'perhaps I am inclined to exaggerate the importance of -the Islands. It is difficult to keep a true sense of proportion. -Herakleion is a little place. One forgets that one -is not at the centre of the world.'</p> - -<p>He could not have tracked his lassitude to its origin, -but as his eyes rested again on the free, generous limbs -of the Davenant boy, he felt a slight revolt against the -babble, the coloured sirops, and the artificially lighted -rooms from which the sun was so carefully excluded. -The yellow skin of little Christopoulos gave him the -appearance of a plant which has been deprived of light. -His snowy hair, too, soft and billowy, looked as though -it had been deliberately and consistently bleached.</p> - -<p>He murmured a gentle protest to the Minister's -words,—</p> - -<p>'Surely not, dear Excellency, surely you do not -exaggerate the importance of the Islands. We could -not, as you say, tolerate the existence of an independent -archipelago a few miles from our shores. Do not allow -my sarcasm to lead you into the belief that I underestimate -either their importance, or the value, the -compliment of your interest in the politics of our -country. The friendship of France....'</p> - -<p>His voice died away into suave nothings. The French -Minister emerged with an effort from his mood of -temporary discontent, endeavouring to recapture the -habitual serenity of his life.</p> - -<p>'And you will remember my hint about the -Davenants?'</p> - -<p>Christopoulos looked again at William Davenant, who, -perfectly courteous but incorrigibly absent-minded, was -still listening to Madame Lafarge.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> -<p>'It is a scandal,' she was saying, resuming her conversation -in the intervals of interruption occasioned by -newly-arriving guests, 'a scandal that the Museum -should remain without a catalogue....'</p> - -<p>'I will remember,' said Christopoulos. 'I will tell -Alexander to distract that youth's attention; one -Davenant the less, you follow me, to give us any -trouble.'</p> - -<p>'Pooh! a schoolboy,' interjected the Minister.</p> - -<p>Christopoulos pursed his lips and moved his snowy -head portentously up and down.</p> - -<p>'A schoolboy, but nevertheless he probably shares the -enthusiasms of his age. The Islands are sufficiently -romantic to appeal to his imagination. Remember, his -grandfather ruled there for a year.'</p> - -<p>'His grandfather? <i>un farceur!</i>' said Lafarge.</p> - -<p>Christopoulos assented, and the two men, smiling -tolerantly, continued to look across at the unconscious -boy though their minds were already occupied by other -things. Madame Lafarge, catching sight of them, was -annoyed by her husband's aloofness from the social -aspect of her weekly reception. It pleased her—in fact, -she exacted—that a certain political atmosphere should -pervade any gathering in her drawing-rooms, but at the -same time she resented a political interview which -deprived, at once, her guests of a host and herself of a -<i>cavalier servente</i>. She accordingly stared at Christopoulos -while continuing her conversation with William -Davenant, until the little Greek became aware of her -gaze, and crossed the room obediently to the unspoken -summons.</p> - -<p>William Davenant moved away in relief; he knew -his duty to Madame Lafarge, but performed it wearily -and without pleasure. It was now over for a month, he -thought, deciding that he would not be expected to -attend the three succeeding Sundays. He paused beside<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> -his son, who had been captured by two of the sisters -Christopoulos and who, with two Russian secretaries, -was being forced to join in a round game. The sisters -gave little shrieks and peals of laughter; it was their -idea of merriment. They sat one on each side of Julian -Davenant, on a small gilt sofa covered with imitation -tapestry. Near by, listening to the game with a gentle -and languorous smile upon his lips, stood the Persian -Minister, who understood very little French, his fine -Oriental figure buttoned into the traditional frock-coat, -and a black lamb's-wool fez upon his head. He was not -very popular in Herakleion; he did not know enough -French to amuse the women, so, as at present, he silently -haunted the circles of the younger generation, with -mingled humility and dignity.</p> - -<p>William Davenant paused there for a moment, met -his son's eyes with a gleam of sympathy, then passed -on to pay his monthly duty to influence and fashion. -The Danish Excellency whispered behind her fan to -Alexander Christopoulos as he passed, and the young -man screwed in his eyeglass to examine the retreating -back of the Englishman. The red-coated chasseur came -round, gravely offering sandwiches on a tray.</p> - -<p>'Uneatable,' said Alexander Christopoulos, taking one -and hiding it beneath his chair.</p> - -<p>The courage of the young man! the insolence!</p> - -<p>'Julie will see you,' giggled the Danish Excellency.</p> - -<p>'And what if she does?' he retorted.</p> - -<p>'You have no respect, no veneration,' she chided him.</p> - -<p>'For <i>maman</i> Lafarge? <i>la bonne bourgeoise!</i>' he -exclaimed, but not very loudly.</p> - -<p>'Alexander!' she said, but her tone said, 'I adore -you.'</p> - -<p>'One must be something,' the young Christopoulos -had once told himself; 'I will be insolent and contemptuous; -I will impose myself upon Herakleion; my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> -surroundings shall accept me with admiration and -without protest.'</p> - -<p>He consequently went to Oxford, affected to speak -Greek with difficulty, interlarded his English with -American slang, instituted a polo club, and drove an -American trotter. He was entirely successful. Unlike -many a greater man, he had achieved his ambition. He -knew, moreover, that Madame Lafarge would give him -her daughter for the asking.</p> - -<p>'Shall I make Julie sing?' he said suddenly to the -Danish Excellency, searching among the moving groups -for the victim of this classic joke of Herakleion.</p> - -<p>'Alexander, you are too cruel,' she murmured.</p> - -<p>He was flattered; he felt himself an irresistible -autocrat and breaker of hearts. He tolerated the -Danish Excellency, as he had often said in the club, -because she had no other thought than of him. She, -on the other hand, boasted in her fat, good-humoured -way to her intimates,—</p> - -<p>'I may be a fool, but no woman is completely a fool -who has realised the depths of man's vanity.'</p> - -<p>Julie Lafarge, who was always given to understand -that one day she would marry the insolent Alexander, -was too efficiently repressed to be jealous of the Danish -Excellency. Under the mischievous influence of her -friend, Eve Davenant, she would occasionally make an -attempt to attract the young man; a pitiable, grotesque -attempt, prompted by the desire to compel his homage, -to hear herself called beautiful—which she was not. So -far she did not delude herself that she had succeeded, -but she did delude herself that it gave him pleasure to -hear her sing. She stood now beside a little table, -dispensing sirops in tall tumblers, very sallow in her -white muslin, with a locket on a short gold chain hanging -between the bones of her neck. Her very thin brown -arms, which were covered with small black hairs,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> -protruded ungracefully from the short sleeves of her -dress.</p> - -<p>Alexander presented himself before her; she had -seen him coming in one of the mirrors on the walls. -Madame Lafarge cherished an affection for these mirrors, -because thanks to them her drawing-rooms always -appeared twice as crowded as they really were.</p> - -<p>Alexander uttered his request in a tone at once -beseeching and compelling; she thought him irresistible. -Nevertheless, she protested: there were too many -people present, her singing would interrupt all conversation, -her mother would be annoyed. But those standing -near by seconded Alexander, and Madame Lafarge -herself bore down majestically upon her daughter, so -that all protest was at an end.</p> - -<p>Julie stood beside the open piano with her hands -loosely folded in a rehearsed and approved attitude -while the room disposed itself to listen, and Alexander, -who was to accompany her, let his fingers roam negligently -over the keyboard. Chairs were turned to face -the piano, people drifted in from the farther drawing-room, -young men leaned in the doorways and against -the walls. Lafarge folded his arms across his chest, -freeing his imprisoned beard by an upward movement -of his chin, and smiled encouragingly and benignly at -his daughter. Speech dropped into whispers, whispers -into silence. Alexander struck a few preliminary chords. -Julie sang; she sang, quite execrably, romantic German -music, and out of the roomful of people only three, -herself, her father, and her mother, thought that she -sang well. Despite this fact she was loudly applauded, -congratulated, and pressed for more.</p> - -<p>Julian Davenant, taking advantage of the diversion -to escape from the sisters Christopoulos, slipped away -to one of the window recesses where he could partly -conceal himself behind the stiff, brocaded curtain.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> -Horizontal strings of sunlight barred the Venetian blind, -and by peeping between its joints he could see the tops -of the palms in the Legation forecourt, the iron grille -which gave on to the main street, and a victoria standing -near the grille, in the shade, the horse covered over with -a flimsy, dust-coloured sheet, and the driver asleep -inside the carriage, a fly-whisk drooping limply in his -hand. He could hear the shrill squeaking of the tram -as it came round the corner, and the clang of its bell. -He knew that the sea lay blue beyond the white town, -and that, out in the sea, lay the Islands, where the little -grapes were spread, drying into currants, in the sun. -He returned to the darkened, candle-lit room, where -Julie Lafarge was singing 'Im wunderschönen Monat -Mai.'</p> - -<p>Looking across the room to the door which opened -on to the landing at the top of the stairs, he saw a little -stir of arrival, which was suppressed in order to avoid -any interruption to the music. He distinguished the -new-comer, a short, broad, middle-aged woman, out of -breath after mounting the stairs, curiously draped -in soft copper-coloured garments, with gold bangles -on her bare arms, and a wreath of gold leaves round -her dark head. He knew this woman, a singer. He -neither liked nor disliked her, but had always thought -of her as possessing a strangely classical quality, all -the stranger because of her squat, almost grotesque -ugliness; although not a dwarf, her great breadth gave -her the appearance of one; but at the same time she -was for him the embodiment of the wealth of the country, -a kind of Demeter of the Islands, though he thought of -Demeter as having corn-coloured hair, like the crops -over which she presided, and this woman had blue-black -hair, like the purple of the grapes that grew on -the Islands. He had often heard her sing, and hoped -now that she was arriving in her professional capacity,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> -which seemed probable, both from her dress, and from -the unlikelihood that she, a singer and a woman of the -native people, would enter Madame Lafarge's house as -a guest, renowned though she was, and fêted, in the -capitals of Europe. He saw Lafarge tiptoe out to receive -her, saw Madame Lafarge follow, and noted the faintly -patronising manner of the Minister's wife in shaking -hands with the artist.</p> - -<p>Applause broke out as Julie finished her song. The -Greek singer was brought forward into the room amid -a general movement and redistribution of groups. -Alexander Christopoulos relinquished his place at the -piano, and joined the Davenant boy by the window. He -appeared bored and languid.</p> - -<p>'It is really painful ... as well listen to a macaw -singing,' he said. 'You are not musical, are you, Julian? -You can scarcely imagine what I endured. Have you -heard this woman, Kato?'</p> - -<p>Julian said that he had.</p> - -<p>'Quite uneducated,' Christopoulos said loftily. 'Any -woman in the fields sings as well. It was new to Paris, -and Paris raved. You and I, my dear Julian, have heard -the same thing a hundred times. Shall we escape?'</p> - -<p>'I must wait for my father,' said Julian, who detested -his present companion; 'he and I are going to dine with -my uncle.'</p> - -<p>'So am I,' Christopoulos answered, and, leaning over -to the English boy, he began to speak in a confidential -voice.</p> - -<p>'You know, my dear Julian, in this society of ours -your father is not trusted. But, after all, what is this -society? <i>un tas de rastas.</i> Do you think I shall remain -here long? not I. <i>Je me fiche des Balcans.</i> And you? -Are you going to bury yourself on those Islands of -yours, growing grapes, ripening olives? What? That -satisfied the old generations. What have I to do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> -with a banking house in Herakleion, you with a few -vineyards near the coast? I shall marry, and spend -the rest of my life in Paris.'</p> - -<p>'You're ambitious to-day,' Julian said mildly.</p> - -<p>'Ambitious! shall I tell you why? Yesterday was -my twenty-fifth birthday. I've done with Herakleion....'</p> - -<p>'Conquered it, you mean,' said Julian, 'squeezed it -dry.'</p> - -<p>The other glanced at him suspiciously.</p> - -<p>'Are you laughing at me? Confound your quiet -manner, Julian, I believe my family is right to mistrust -your family. Very well, then: conquered it. Believe -me, it isn't worth conquering. Don't waste your youth -on your vineyards, but come with me. Let the Islands -go. They are always in trouble, and the trouble is -getting more acute. They are untidy specks on the -map. Don't you hear the call of Paris and the world?'</p> - -<p>Julian, looking at him, and seeing the laughable -intrigue, was mercifully saved from replying, for at that -moment Madame Kato began to sing. She sang without -accompaniment, songs of the people, in a curiously -guttural voice with an occasionally nasal note, songs -no different from those sung in the streets or, as Christopoulos -had said, in the fields, different only in that, to -this peasant music, half melancholy, half emotional, its -cadence born of physical labour, she brought the genius -of a great artist. As she stood there, singing, Julian -reflected that her song emphasised the something -classical, something massive, something monumental, -about her, which overshadowed what might have been -slightly grotesque in her appearance. She was, indeed, -a Demeter of the vineyards. She should have stood -singing in the sun, not beneath the pale mockery of the -candles.</p> - -<p>'Entirely uneducated,' Christopoulos said again,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> -shifting his shoulders as he leaned against the wall. -'That is why Paris liked her: as a contrast. She was -clever enough to know that. Contrasts are always -artistically effective.'</p> - -<p>He went off, pleased, to repeat his facile epigram to -the Danish Excellency. Madame Lafarge was looking -round to see whether the audience had approved of the -innovation. The audience was waiting to hear the -expression of an opinion which it might safely follow. -Presently the word, 'Uneducated' was on every lip. -Julian remained at the window, chained there by his -natural reserve and shyness; he looked up at the lighted -chandeliers, and down at their reflection in the floors; -he saw the faces of people turned towards him, and the -back of their heads in the mirrors; he saw Armand, the -French secretary, with the face of a Persian prince, -offering red sirop to Madame Kato. He wished to go -and speak to her, but his feet would not carry him -forward. He felt himself apart from the talk and the -easy laughter.</p> - -<p>Presently Mlle Lafarge, seeing him there alone, came -to him with her awkward and rather touching grace as -a hostess.</p> - -<p>'You know, I suppose,' she said to him, 'that Madame -Kato is a friend of Eve's? Will you not come and speak -to her?'</p> - -<p>Released, he came. The singer was drinking her red -sirop by the piano. The Persian Minister in the black -fez was standing near, smiling gently at her with his -usual mournful smile.</p> - -<p>'You will not remember me, Julian Davenant,' the -boy said in a low, shy voice. He spoke in Greek involuntarily, -feeling that French would be an outrage in the -presence of this so splendidly Hellenic woman. Armand -had moved away, and they stood isolated, caressed by -the vague smile of the Persian Minister.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> -<p>Kato set down her glass of red sirop on the top of -the piano. She leaned against the piano talking to the -English boy, her arms akimbo, as a peasant woman -might lean in the doorway of her house gossiping in the -cool of the evening, her little eyes keen and eager. -The muscles of her arms and of her magnificent neck -curved generously beneath her copper draperies, mocking -the flimsy substance, and crying out for the labour -of the vineyards. Her speech was tinged with the faint -accent of the Islands, soft and slurring. It was more -familiar to Julian Davenant than the harsher Greek of -the town, for it was the speech of the women who had -brought him up as a child, women of the Islands, his -nurses in his father's big house in the <i>platia</i> of Herakleion. -It murmured to him now in the rich voice of the -singer beneath the chandelier.</p> - -<p>'Eve; I have not seen her yet. You must tell her -that I have returned and that she must come to my -concert on Wednesday. Tell her that I will sing one -song for her, but that all the other songs must be for -my audience. I have brought back a new repertoire -from Munich, which will please Herakleion better, I hope, -than the common music it despises.'</p> - -<p>She laughed a little.</p> - -<p>'It has taken me thirty years to discover that -mankind at large despises the art of its own country. -Only the exotic catches the ear of fashion. But Eve has -told me that you do not care for music?'</p> - -<p>'I like your music,' he said.</p> - -<p>'I will tell you why: because you are musically -uneducated.'</p> - -<p>He looked at her; she was smiling. He wondered -whether she had overheard a whisper in the humming -room.</p> - -<p>'I speak without sarcasm,' she added; 'I envy you -your early ignorance. In fact, I believe I have uttered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> -a paradox, and that the words education and music are -incompatible. Music is the emotional art, and where -education steps in at the door emotion flies out at the -window. We should keep education for literature, -painting, architecture, and sculpture. Music is the -medium to which we turn when these more intellectual -mediums fail us.'</p> - -<p>Julian listened with only half his brain. This peasant, -this artist, spoke to him with the superficial ease of -drawing-rooms; she employed words that matched ill -with her appearance and with the accent of her speech. -The native songs were right upon her lips, as the names -of architecture and sculpture were wrong. He was -offended in his sensitiveness. Demeter in analysis of -the arts!</p> - -<p>She was watching him.</p> - -<p>'Ah, my young friend,' she said, 'you do not understand. -I spoke to you as the cousin of Eve, who is a -child, but who always understands. She is purely -sentient, emotional.'</p> - -<p>He protested,—</p> - -<p>'I have always thought of Eve as exceptionally -sophisticated.'</p> - -<p>Kato said,—</p> - -<p>'You are right. We are both right. Eve is childlike -in many ways, but she is also wise beyond her years. -She will grow, believe me, into a woman of exceptional -attraction, and to such women existence is packed with -danger. It is one of Providence's rare pieces of justice -that they should be provided with a natural weapon of -self-defence. To a lion his claws,' she said, smiling, 'and -to the womanly woman the gift of penetration. Tell me, -are you fond of Eve?'</p> - -<p>Julian was surprised. He replied, naïf again and like -a schoolboy,—</p> - -<p>'She's my cousin. I haven't thought much about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> -her. She's only a child. I haven't seen her yet either. -I arrived from England this morning.'</p> - -<p>They were more than ever isolated from the rest of -the room. Madame Lafarge, talking to Don Rodrigo -Valdez, the Spanish Minister, who had a birdlike head -above his immensely high white collar, glanced now and -then resentfully at the singer, but otherwise the room -was indifferent. The sunlight between the cracks of the -Venetian blinds had grown fainter, and the many candles -were coming into their own. A few people had already -taken their leave. An excited group of men had gathered -round little Christopoulos, and the words 'local politics' -shrieked from every gesture.</p> - -<p>'I shall not be expected to sing again,' said Kato with -a slight return to her ironical manner. 'Will you not -come with Eve to my concert on Wednesday? Or, -better, will you come to my house on Wednesday -evening after the concert? I shall be alone, and I should -like to talk to you.'</p> - -<p>'To me?' broke from him, independently of his -will.</p> - -<p>'Remember,' she said, 'I am from the Islands. That -is my country, and when my country is in trouble I am -not indifferent. You are very young, Mr Davenant, -and you are not very often in Herakleion, but your -future, when you have done with Oxford and with -England'—she made a large gesture—'lies in the -Islands. You will hear a great deal about them; a -little of this I should like you to hear from me. Will -you come?'</p> - -<p>The patriot beneath the artist! He would come, -flattered, important; courted, at his nineteen years, by -a singer of European reputation. Popularity was to him -a new experience. He expanded beneath its warmth.</p> - -<p>'I will come to the concert first with Eve.'</p> - -<p>William Davenant, in search of his son, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> -light-hearted in his relief at the end of the monthly duty, -was bowing to Madame Kato, whom he knew both as a -singer and as a figure of some importance in the troubled -politics of the tiny State. They had, in their lives, spent -many an hour in confabulation, when his absent-minded -manner left the man, and her acquired polish the -woman. He deferred to her as a controlling agent in -practical affairs, spoke of her to his brother with admiration.</p> - -<p>'A remarkable woman, Robert, a true patriot; sexless, -I believe, so far as her patriotism lies. Malteios, -you say? well, I know; but, believe me, she uses him -merely as a means to her end. Not a sexless means? -Damn it, one picks up what weapons come to one's -hand. She hasn't a thought for him, only for her -wretched country. She is a force, I tell you, to be -reckoned with. Forget her sex! Surely that is easy, -with a woman who looks like a toad. You make the -mistake of ignoring the people when it is with the people -that you have to deal. Hear them speak about her: -she is an inspiration, a local Joan of Arc. She works -for them in Paris, in Berlin, and in London; she uses -her sex, for them and for them alone. All her life is -dedicated to them. She gives them her voice, and her -genius.'</p> - -<p>Madame Kato did not know that he said these things -about her behind her back. Had she known, she would -have been surprised neither at the opinions he expressed -nor at the perception which enabled him to express -them, for she had seen in him a shrewd, deliberate -intellect that spoke little, listened gravely, and settled -soberly down at length upon a much tested and corroborated -opinion. Madame Lafarge, and the women -to whom he paid his courtly, rather pompous duty in -public, thought him dull and heavy, a true Englishman. -The men mistrusted him in company with his brother<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> -Robert, silence, in the South, breeding mistrust as does -volubility in the North.</p> - -<p>The rooms were emptier now, and the candles, burning -lower, showed long icicles of wax that overflowed on to -the glass of the chandeliers. The tall tumblers had been -set down, here and there, containing the dregs of the -coloured sirops. Madame Lafarge looked hot and weary, -drained of her early Sunday energy, and listening absently -to the parting compliments of Christopoulos. From -the other room, however, still came the laughter of the -Christopoulos sisters, who were winding up their round -game.</p> - -<p>'Come, Julian,' said William Davenant, after he had -spoken and made his farewells to Madame Kato.</p> - -<p>Together they went down the stairs and out into the -forecourt, where the hotter air of the day greeted them -after the coolness of the house, though the heat was no -longer that of the sun, but the closer, less glaring heat -of the atmosphere absorbed during the grilling hours of -the afternoon. The splendid chasseur handed them -their hats, and they left the Legation and walked slowly -down the crowded main street of the town.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> - -<h2>II</h2> - -<p>The town house of the Davenants stood in the <i>platia</i>, -at right angles to the club. On the death of old Mr -Davenant—'President Davenant,' as he was nicknamed—the -town and the country properties had been -divided between the two inheriting brothers; Herakleion -said that the brothers had drawn lots for the country -house, but in point of fact the matter had been settled -by amicable arrangement. William Davenant, the elder -of the brothers, widowed, with an only son away for -three-quarters of the year at school in England, was -more conveniently installed in the town, within five -minutes reach of the central office, than Robert, who, -with a wife and a little girl, preferred the distance -of his country house and big garden. The two -establishments, as time went on, became practically -interchangeable.</p> - -<p>The rue Royale—Herakleion was so cosmopolitan as -to give to its principal thoroughfare a French name—was -at this hour crowded with the population that, imprisoned -all day behind closed shutters, sought in the -evening what freshness it could find in the cobbled -streets between the stucco houses. The street life of -the town began between five and six, and the Davenants, -father and son, were jostled as they walked slowly along -the pavements, picking their way amongst the small -green tables set outside the numerous cafés. At these -tables sat the heterogenous elements that composed the -summer population of the place, men of every nationality: -old gamblers too disreputable for Monte Carlo; young -Levantines, natives, drinking absinthe; Turks in their -red fezzes; a few rakish South Americans. The trams<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> -screamed discordantly in their iron grooves, and the -bells of the cinema tinkled unceasingly. Between the -tramlines and the kerb dawdled the hired victorias, few -empty at this time of day, but crowded with families of -Levantines, the men in straw hats, the women for the -most part in hot black, very stout, and constantly -fanning their heavily powdered faces. Now and then a -chasseur from some diplomatic house passed rapidly in -a flaming livery.</p> - -<p>Mr Davenant talked to his son as they made their way -along.</p> - -<p>'How terrible those parties are. I often wish I could -dissociate myself altogether from that life, and God -knows that I go merely to hear what people are saying. -They know it, and of course they will never forgive me. -Julian, in order to conciliate Herakleion, you will have -to marry a Greek.'</p> - -<p>'Alexander Christopoulos attacked me to-day,' Julian -said. 'Wanted me to go to Paris with him and see the -world.'</p> - -<p>He did not note in his own mind that he refrained -from saying that Madame Kato had also, so to speak, -attacked him on the dangerous subject of the Islands.</p> - -<p>They turned now, having reached the end of the rue -Royale, into the <i>platia</i>, where the cavernous archway -of the club stained the white front of the houses with -a mouth of black. The houses of the <i>platia</i> were large, -the hereditary residences of the local Greek families. -The Christopoulos house stood next to the club, -and next to that was the house of the Premier, His -Excellency Platon Malteios, and next to that the -Italian Consulate, with the arms of Italy on a painted -hatchment over the door. The centre of the square was -empty, cobbled in an elaborate pattern which gave the -effect of a tessellated pavement; on the fourth side of -the square were no houses, for here lay the wide quay<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> -which stretched right along above the sea from one -end of the town to the other.</p> - -<p>The Davenant house faced the sea, and from the -balcony of his bedroom on the second floor Julian could -see the Islands, yellow with little white houses on them; -in the absolute stillness and limpidity of the air he could -count the windows on Aphros, the biggest island, and -the terraces on the slope of the hills. The first time he -had arrived from school in England he had run up to -his bedroom, out on to the balcony, to look across the -<i>platia</i> with its many gaudily striped sunblinds, at the -blue sea and the little yellow stains a few miles out from -the shore.</p> - -<p>At the door of the Davenant house stood two horses -ready saddled in the charge of the door-keeper, fat -Aristotle, an islander, who wore the short bolero and -pleated fustanelle, like a kilt, of his country. The door-keepers -of the other houses had gathered round him, -but as Mr Davenant came up they separated respectfully -and melted away to their individual charges.</p> - -<p>The way lay along the quays and down the now -abandoned ilex avenue. The horses' hoofs padded -softly in the thick dust. The road gleamed palely -beneath the thick shadows of the trees, and the water, -seen between the ancient trunks, was almost purple. -The sun was gone, and only the last bars of the sunset -lingered in the sky. At the tip of the pier of Herakleion -twinkled already the single light of phosphorescent -green that daily, at sunset, shone out, to reflect irregularly -in the water.</p> - -<p>They passed out of the avenue into the open country, -the road still skirting the sea on their left, while on -their right lay the strip of flat country crowded in -between Mount Mylassa and the sea, carefully cultivated -by the labourers of the Davenants, where the grapes -hung on the festooned branches looped from pole to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> -pole. William Davenant observed them critically, -thinking to himself, 'A good harvest.' Julian Davenant, -fresh from an English county, saw as with a new eye -their beauty and their luxuriance. He rode loosely in -the saddle, his long legs dangling, indisputably English, -though born in one of the big painted rooms overlooking -the <i>platia</i> of Herakleion, and reared in the country until -the age of ten. He had always heard the vintage discussed -since he could remember. He knew that his -family for three generations had been the wealthiest in -the little state, wealthier than the Greek banking-houses, -and he knew that no move of the local politics was -entirely free from the influence of his relations. His -grandfather, indeed, having been refused a concession he -wanted from the government, had roused his Islands to a -declaration of independence under his own presidency—a -state of affairs which, preposterous as it was, had -profoundly alarmed the motley band that made up the -Cabinet in Herakleion. What had been done once, -could be repeated.... Granted his concession, Julian's -grandfather had peaceably laid down the dignity of his -new office, but who could say that his sons might not -repeat the experiment?</p> - -<p>These things had been always in the boy's scheme -of life. He had not pondered them very deeply. He -supposed that one day he would inherit his father's -share in the concern, and would become one of the -heads of the immense family which had spread like -water over various districts of the Mediterranean coasts. -Besides the Davenants of Herakleion, there were -Davenants at Smyrna, Davenants at Salonica, Davenants -at Constantinople. Colonies of Davenants. It was -said that the Levant numbered about sixty families of -Davenants. Julian was not acquainted with them all. -He did not even know in what degree of relationship -they stood to him.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> -<p>Every time that he passed through London on his -way to school, or, now, to Oxford, he was expected to -visit his great-uncle, Sir Henry, who lived in an immense -house in Belgrave Square, and had a business room -downstairs where Julian was interviewed before luncheon. -In this room hung framed plans of the various Davenant -estates, and Julian, as he stood waiting for Sir Henry, -would study the plan of Herakleion, tracing with his -finger the line of the quays, the indent of the <i>platia</i>, -the green of the race-course, the square which indicated -the country house; in a corner of this plan were the -Islands, drawn each in separate detail. He became -absorbed, and did not notice the entrance of Sir Henry -till the old man's hand fell on his shoulder.</p> - -<p>'Ha! Looking at the plan, are you? Familiar to -you, what? So it is familiar to me, my boy. Never -been there, you know. Yet I know it. I know my way -about. Know it as though I had seen it.'</p> - -<p>He didn't really know it, Julian thought—he didn't -feel the sun hot on his hands, or see the dazzling, flapping -sunblinds, or the advertisements written up in Greek -characters in the streets.</p> - -<p>Sir Henry went on with his sermon.</p> - -<p>'You don't belong there, boy; don't you ever forget -that. You belong here. You're English. Bend the -riches of that country to your own purpose, that's -all right, but don't identify yourself with it. Impose -yourself. Make 'em adopt your methods. That's the -strength of English colonisation.'</p> - -<p>The old man, who was gouty, and leaned his hands -on the top of a stick, clapped the back of one hand with -the palm of the other and blew out his lips, looking at -his great-nephew.</p> - -<p>'Yes, yes, remember that. Impose yourself. On my -soul, you're a well-grown boy. What are you? nineteen? -Great overgrown colt. Get your hair cut.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> -Foreign ways; don't approve of that. Big hands you've -got; broad shoulders. Loosely put together. Hope -you're not slack. Can you ride?'</p> - -<p>'I ride all day out there,' said Julian softly, a little -bewildered.</p> - -<p>'Well, well. Come to luncheon. Keep a head on -your shoulders. Your grandfather lost his once; very -foolish man. Wonder he didn't lose it altogether. -President indeed! stuff and nonsense. Not practical, -sir, not practical.' Sir Henry blew very hard. 'Let's -have no such rubbish from you, boy. What'll you -drink? Here, I'll give you the best: Herakleion, 1895. -Best year we ever had. Hope you appreciate good wine; -you're a wine-merchant, you know.'</p> - -<p>He cackled loudly at his joke. Julian drank the wine -that had ripened on the slopes of Mount Mylassa, or -possibly on the Islands, and wished that the old man -had not so blatantly called him a wine-merchant. He -liked Sir Henry, although after leaving him he always -had the sensation of having been buffeted by spasmodic -gusts of wind.</p> - -<p>He was thinking about Sir Henry now as he rode -along, and pitying the old man to whom those swags of -fruit meant only a dusty bottle, a red or a blue seal, -and a date stamped in gold numerals on a black label. -The light was extraordinarily tender, and the air seemed -almost tangible with the heavy, honeyed warmth that -hung over the road. Julian took off his gray felt hat -and hung it on the high peak of his saddle.</p> - -<p>They passed through a little village, which was no -more than a score of tumbledown houses sown carelessly -on each side of the road; here, as in the rue Royale, -the peasants sat drinking at round tables outside the -café to the harsh music of a gramophone, with applause -and noisy laughter. Near by, half a dozen men were -playing at bowls. When they saw Mr Davenant, they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> -came forward in a body and laid eager hands on the -neck of his horse. He reined up.</p> - -<p>Julian heard the tumult of words: some one had -been arrested, it was Vassili's brother. Vassili, he knew, -was the big chasseur at the French Legation. He heard -his father soothing, promising he would look into the -matter; he would, if need be, see the Premier on the -morrow. A woman flung herself out of the café and -clasped Julian by the knee. They had taken her lover. -Would he, Julian, who was young, be merciful? Would -he urge his father's interference? He promised also -what was required of him, feeling a strange thrill of -emotion and excitement. Ten days ago he had been at -Oxford, and here, to-day, Kato had spoken to him as to -a grown man, and here in the dusk a sobbing woman was -clinging about his knee. This was a place in which -anything, fantastic or preposterous, might come to pass.</p> - -<p>As they rode on, side by side, his father spoke, thinking -aloud. An absent-minded man, he gave his confidence -solely in this, so to speak, unintentional manner. -Long periods, extending sometimes over months, during -which his mind lay fallow, had as their upshot an outbreak -of this audible self-communion. Julian had -inherited the trait; his mind progressed, not regularly, -but by alternate stagnation and a forward bound.</p> - -<p>'The mistake that we have made lies in the importation -of whole families of islanders to the mainland. The -Islands have always considered themselves as a thing -apart, as, indeed, historically, they always were. A -hundred years is not sufficient to make them an intrinsic -part of the State of Herakleion. I cannot wonder that -the authorities here dislike us. We have introduced a -discontented population from the Islands to spread -sedition among the hitherto contented population of the -mainland. If we were wise, we should ship the whole -lot back to the Islands they came from. Now, a man is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> -arrested on the Islands by the authorities, and what -happens? He is the brother of Vassili, an islander living -in Herakleion. Vassili spreads the news, it flies up and -down the town, and out into the country. It has greeted -us out here already. In every café of the town at this -moment the islanders are gathered together, muttering; -some will get drunk, perhaps, and the municipal police -will intervene; from a drunken row the affair will become -political; some one will raise the cry of "Liberty!", -heads will be broken, and to-morrow a score of islanders -will be in jail. They will attribute their imprisonment -to the general hostility to their nationality, rather than -to the insignificant brawl. Vassili will come to me in -Herakleion to-morrow. Will I exercise my influence -with Malteios to get his brother released? I shall go, -perhaps, to Malteios, who will listen to me suavely, -evasively.... It has all happened a hundred times -before. I say, we ought to ship the whole lot back to -where they came from.'</p> - -<p>'I suppose they are really treated with unfairness?' -Julian said, more speculation than interest in his tone.</p> - -<p>'I suppose a great many people would think so. The -authorities are certainly severe, but they are constantly -provoked. And, you know, your uncle and I make it -up to the islanders in a number of private ways. Ninety -per cent. of the men on the Islands are employed by us, -and it pays us to keep them devoted to us by more -material bonds than mere sentiment; also it alleviates -their discontent, and so obviates much friction with -Herakleion.'</p> - -<p>'But of course,' said Julian quickly, 'you don't allow -Malteios to suspect this?'</p> - -<p>'My dear boy! what do you suppose? Malteios is -President of Herakleion. Of course, we don't mention -such things. But he knows it all very well, and winks -at it—perforce. Our understanding with Malteios is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> -entirely satisfactory, entirely. He is on very wholesome -terms of friendly respect to us.'</p> - -<p>Julian rarely pronounced himself; he did so now.</p> - -<p>'If I were an islander—that is, one of a subject race—I -don't think I should be very well content to forgo -my liberty in exchange for underhand compensation -from an employer whose tactics it suited to conciliate -my natural dissatisfaction.'</p> - -<p>'What a ridiculous phrase. And what ridiculous -sentiments you occasionally give vent to. No, no, the -present arrangement is as satisfactory as we can hope -to make it, always excepting that one flaw, that we ought -not to allow islanders in large numbers to live upon the -mainland.'</p> - -<p>They turned in between the two white lodges of the -country house, and rode up the drive between the tall, -pungent, untidy trees of eucalyptus. The house, one-storied, -low, and covered with wistaria and bougainvillea, -glimmered white in the uncertain light. The -shutters were flung back and the open windows gaped, -oblong and black, at regular intervals on the upper floor. -On the ground level, a broad veranda stretched right -along the front of the house, and high French windows, -opening on to this, yellow with light, gave access to the -downstairs rooms.</p> - -<p>'Holà!' Mr Davenant called in a loud voice.</p> - -<p>'Malista, Kyrie,' a man's voice answered, and a -servant in the white fustanelle of the Islands, with -black puttees wound round his legs, and red shoes with -turned-up toes and enormous rosettes on the tip, came -running to hold the horses.</p> - -<p>'They have taken Vassili's brother, Kyrie,' he said -as Mr Davenant gave him the reins.</p> - -<p>Julian was already in the drawing-room, among the -chintz-covered sofas, loaded little tables, and ubiquitous -gilt chairs. Four fat columns, painted to represent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> -lapis-lazuli, divided the room into two halves, and from -their Corinthian capitals issued flames made of red -tinsel and painted gray smoke, which dispersed itself -realistically over the ceiling.</p> - -<p>He stood in the window, absently looking out into -the garden across the veranda, where the dinner table -was laid for six. Pots of oleander and agapanthus stood -along the edge of the veranda, between the fat white -columns, with gaps between them through which one -might pass out into the garden, and beyond them in the -garden proper the fruit gleamed on the lemon-trees, and, -somewhere, the sea whispered in the dusk. The night -was calm and hot with the serenity of established summer -weather, the stars big and steady like sequins in the -summer sky. The spirit of such serenity does not brood -over England, where to-day's pretence of summer will -be broken by the fresh laughter of to-morrow's shower. -The rose must fall to pieces in the height of its beauty -beneath the fingers of sudden and capricious storm. But -here the lemons hung, swollen and heavily pendulous, -among the metallic green of their leaves, awaiting the -accomplished end of their existence, the deepening of -their gold, the fuller curve of their ripened luxuriance, -with the complacency of certainty; fruit, not for the -whim of the elements, but progressing throughout the -year steadfastly towards the hand and the basket of the -picker. Here and there the overburdened stem would -snap, and the oblong ball of greenish-gold would fall -with a soft and melancholy thud, like a sigh of regret, -upon the ground beneath the tree; would roll a little -way, and then be still. The little grove stretched in -ordered lines and spaces, from the veranda, where the -windows of the house threw rectangles of yellow light -on to the ground in the blackness, to the bottom of the -garden, where the sea washed indolently against the -rocks.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> -<p>Presently he would see Eve, his eyes would meet her -mocking eyes, and they would smile at one another out -of the depths of their immemorial friendship. She was -familiar to him, so familiar that he could not remember -the time when, difficult, intractable, exasperating, subtle, -incomprehensible, she had not formed part of his life. -She was as familiar to him as the house in the <i>platia</i>, -with its big, empty drawing-room, the walls frescoed -with swinging monkeys, broken columns, and a romantic -land and seascape; as the talk about the vintage; as -the preposterous politics, always changing, yet always, -monotonously, nauseatingly, pettishly, the same. She -was not part of his life in England, the prosaic life; she -was part of his life on the Greek seaboard, unreal and -fantastic, where the most improbable happenings came -along with an air of ingenuousness, romance walking -in the garments of every day. After a week in Herakleion -he could not disentangle the real from the unreal.</p> - -<p>It was the more baffling because those around him, -older and wiser than he, appeared to take the situation -for granted and to treat it with a seriousness that sometimes -led him, when, forgetful, he was off his guard, to -believe that the country was a real country and that -its statesmen, Platon Malteios, Gregori Stavridis, and -the rest, were real statesmen working soberly towards -a definite end. That its riots were revolutions; that -its factions were political parties; that its discordant, -abusive, wrangling Chamber was indeed a Senate. That -its four hundred stout soldiers, who periodically paraded -the <i>platia</i> under the command of a general in a uniform -designed by a theatrical costumier in Buda-Pesth, were -indeed an army. That the <i>platia</i> itself was a forum. -That the society was brilliant; that its liaisons had the -dignity of great passions. That his aunt, who talked -weightily and contradicted every one, including herself—the -only person who ever ventured to do such a thing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>—was -indeed a political figure, an Egeria among the -men in whose hands lay the direction of affairs. In his -more forgetful moments, he was tempted to believe these -things, when he saw his father and his Uncle Robert, -both unbending, incisive, hard-headed business men, -believing them. As a rule, preserving his nice sense of -perspective, he saw them as a setting to Eve.</p> - -<p>He was beginning to adjust himself again to the life -which faded with so extraordinary a rapidity as the -express or the steamer bore him away, three times a year, -to England. It faded always then like a photographic -proof when exposed to the light. The political jargon -was the first to go—he knew the sequence—'civil war,' -'independent archipelago,' 'overthrow of the Cabinet,' -'a threat to the Malteios party,' 'intrigues of the -Stavridists,' the well-known phrases that, through sheer -force of reiteration, he accepted without analysis; then, -after the political jargon, the familiar figures that he -saw almost daily, Sharp, his father's chief clerk; Aristotle, -the door-keeper, his tussore fustanelle hanging magisterially -from the rotundity of his portentous figure; Madame -Lafarge, erect, and upholstered like a sofa, driving in her -barouche; the young men at the club, languid and insolent -and licentious; then, after the familiar figures, the familiar -scenes; and lastly Eve herself, till he could no longer -recall the drowsy tones of her voice, or evoke her eyes, -that, though alive with malice and mockery, were yet -charged with a mystery to which he could give no name. -He was sad when these things began to fade. He clung -on to them, because they were dear, but they slipped -through his fingers like running water. Their evanescence -served only to convince him the more of their -unreality.</p> - -<p>Then, England, immutable, sagacious, balanced; -Oxford, venerable and self-confident, turning the young -men of the nation as by machinery out of her mould.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> -Law-abiding England, where men worked their way -upwards, attaining power and honour in the ripeness of -years. London, where the houses were of stone. Where -was Herakleion, stucco-built and tawdry, city of perpetually-clanging -bells, revolutions, and Prime Ministers -made and unmade in a day? Herakleion of the yellow -islands, washed by too blue a sea. Where?</p> - -<p>Eve had never been to England, nor could he see any -place in England for her. She should continue to live -as she had always lived, among the vines and the -magnolias, attended by a fat old woman who, though -English, had spent so many years of her life in Herakleion -that her English speech was oddly tainted by the -southern lisp of the native Greek she had never been -able to master; old Nana, who had lost the familiarity -of one tongue without acquiring that of another; the -ideal duenna for Eve.</p> - -<p>Then with a light step across the veranda a young -Greek priest came into the room by one of the French -windows, blinking and smiling in the light, dressed in -a long black soutane and black cap, his red hair rolled -up into a knob at the back of his head according to the -fashion of his church. He tripped sometimes over his -soutane as he walked, muscular and masculine inside -that feminine garment, and when he did this he would -gather it up impatiently with a hand on which grew -a pelt of wiry red hairs. Father Paul had instituted -himself as a kind of private chaplain to the Davenants. -Eve encouraged him because she thought him picturesque. -Mrs Robert Davenant found him invaluable as a lieutenant -in her campaign of control over the peasants and -villagers, over whom she exercised a despotic if benevolent -authority. He was therefore free to come and go as he -pleased.</p> - -<p>The population, Julian thought, was flowing back into -his recovered world.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p> -<p>England and Oxford were put aside; not forgotten, -not indistinct, not faded like Herakleion was wont to -fade, but merely put aside, laid away like winter -garments in summer weather. He was once more in the -kingdom of stucco and adventure. Eve was coming -back to him, with her strange shadowy eyes and red -mouth, and her frivolity beneath which lay some force -which was not frivolous. There were women who were -primarily pretty; women who were primarily motherly; -women who, like Mrs Robert Davenant, were primarily -efficient, commanding, successful, metallic; women who, -like Kato, were consumed by a flame of purpose which -broke, hot and scorching, from their speech and burned -relentlessly in their eyes; women who were primarily -vain and trifling; he found he could crowd Eve into -no such category. He recalled her, spoilt, exquisite, -witty, mettlesome, elusive, tantalising; detached from -such practical considerations as punctuality, convenience, -reliability. A creature that, from the age of three, -had exacted homage and protection....</p> - -<p>He heard her indolent voice behind him in the room, -and turned expectantly for their meeting.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> - -<h2>III</h2> - -<p>It was, however, during his first visit to the singer's flat -that he felt himself again completely a citizen of Herakleion; -that he felt himself, in fact, closer than ever before -to the beating heart of intrigue and aspiration. Kato -received him alone, and her immediate comradely grasp -of his hand dispelled the shyness which had been induced -in him by the concert; her vigorous simplicity caused -him to forget the applause and enthusiasm he had that -afternoon seen lavished on her as a public figure; he -found in her an almost masculine friendliness and keenness -of intellect, which loosened his tongue, sharpened -his wits, set him on the path of discovery and self-expression. -Kato watched him with her little bright -eyes, nodding her approval with quick grunts; he paced -her room, talking.</p> - -<p>'Does one come, ever, to a clear conception of one's -ultimate ambitions? Not one's personal ambitions, of -course; they don't count.' ('How young he is,' she -thought.) 'But to conceive clearly, I mean, exactly -what one sets out to create, and what to destroy. If -not, one must surely spend the whole of life working in -the dark? Laying in little bits of mosaic, without once -stepping back to examine the whole scheme of the -picture.... One instinctively opposes authority. One -struggles for freedom. Why? Why? What's at the -bottom of that instinct? Why are we, men, born the -instinctive enemies of order and civilisation, when order -and civilisation are the weapons and the shields we, men, -have ourselves instituted for our own protection? It's -illogical.</p> - -<p>'Why do we, every one of us, refute the experience<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> -of others, preferring to gain our own? Why do we -fight against government? why do I want to be independent -of my father? or the Islands independent of -Herakleion? or Herakleion independent of Greece? -What's this instinct of wanting to stand alone, to be -oneself, isolated, free, individual? Why does instinct -push us towards individualism, when the great wellbeing -of mankind probably lies in solidarity? when the -social system in its most elementary form starts with -men clubbing together for comfort and greater safety? -No sooner have we achieved our solidarity, our hierarchy, -our social system, our civilisation, than we want to get -away from it. A vicious circle; the wheel revolves, and -brings us back to the same point from which we started.'</p> - -<p>'Yes,' said Kato, 'there is certainly an obscure -sympathy with the rebel, that lies somewhere dormant -in the soul of the most platitudinous advocate of law -and order.' She was amused by his generalisations, and -was clever enough not to force him back too abruptly -to the matter she had in mind. She thought him -ludicrously, though rather touchingly, young, both in -his ideas and his phraseology; but at the same time she -shrewdly discerned the force which was in him and which -she meant to use for her own ends. 'You,' she said to -him, 'will argue in favour of society, yet you will spend -your life, or at any rate your youth, in revolt against it. -Youth dies, you see, when one ceases to rebel. Besides,' -she added, scrutinising him, 'the time will very soon -come when you cease to argue and begin to act. Believe -me, one soon discards one's wider examinations, and -learns to content oneself with the practical business of -the moment. One's own bit of the mosaic, as you said.'</p> - -<p>He felt wholesomely sobered, but not reproved; he -liked Kato's penetration, her vivid, intelligent sympathy, -and her point of view which was practical without being -cynical.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> -<p>'I have come to one real conclusion,' he said, 'which -is, that pain alone is intrinsically evil, and that in the -lightening or abolition of pain one is safe in going -straight ahead; it is a bit of the mosaic worth doing. -So in the Islands....' he paused.</p> - -<p>Kato repressed a smile; she was more and more -touched and entertained by his youthful, dogmatic -statements, which were delivered with a concentration -and an ardour that utterly disarmed derision. She -was flattered, too, by his unthinking confidence in -her; for she knew him by report as morose and -uncommunicative, with relapses into rough high spirits -and a schoolboy sense of farce. Eve had described him -as inaccessible....</p> - -<p>'When you go, as you say, straight ahead,' he resumed, -frowning, his eyes absent.</p> - -<p>Kato began to dwell, very skilfully, upon the topic -of the Islands....</p> - -<p class="space-above">Certain events which Madame Kato had then predicted -to Julian followed with a suddenness, an unexpectedness, -that perplexed the mind of the inquirer -seeking, not only their origin, but their chronological -sequence. They came like a summer storm sweeping -briefly, boisterously across the land after the inadequate -warning of distant rumbles and the flash of innocuous -summer lightning. The thunder had rumbled so often, -it might be said that it had rumbled daily, and the -lightning had twitched so often in the sky, that men -remained surprised and resentful long after the rough -little tornado had passed away. They remained staring -at one another, scratching their heads under their straw -hats, or leaning against the parapet on the quays, -exploring the recesses of their teeth with the omnipresent -toothpick, and staring across the sea to those -Islands whence the storm had surely come, as though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> -by this intense, frowning contemplation they would -finally provide themselves with enlightenment. Groups -of men sat outside the cafés, their elbows on the tables, -advancing in tones of whispered vehemence their -individual positive theories and opinions, beating time -to their own rhetoric and driving home each cherished -point with the emphatic stab of a long cigar. In the -casino itself, with the broken windows gaping jaggedly -on to the forecourt, and the red curtains of the atrium -hanging in rags from those same windows, men stood -pointing in little knots. 'Here they stood still,' and -'From here he threw the bomb,' and those who had been -present on the day were listened to with a respect they -never in their lives had commanded before and never -would command again.</p> - -<p>There was no sector of society in Herakleion that did -not discuss the matter with avidity; more, with gratitude. -Brigandage was brigandage, a picturesque but -rather <i>opéra bouffe</i> form of crime, but at the same time -an excitement was, indubitably, an excitement. The -Ministers, in their despatches to their home governments, -affected to treat the incident as the work of a -fortuitous band rather than as an organised expedition -with an underlying political significance, nevertheless -they fastened upon it as a pretext for their wit in Herakleion, -where no sardonic and departmental eye would -regard them with superior tolerance much as a grown-up -person regards the facile amusement of a child. At the -diplomatic dinner parties very little else was talked of. -At tea parties, women, drifting from house to house, -passed on as their own the witticisms they had most -recently heard, which became common property until -reclaimed from general circulation by the indignant -perpetrators. From the drawing-rooms of the French -Legation, down to village cafés where the gramophone -grated unheard and the bowls lay neglected on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> -bowling alley, one topic reigned supreme. What nobody -knew, and what everybody wondered about, was the -attitude adopted by the Davenants in the privacy of -their country house. What spoken or unspoken understanding -existed between the inscrutable brothers? -What veiled references, or candid judgments, escaped -from William Davenant's lips as he lay back in his chair -after dinner, a glass of wine—wine of his own growing—between -his fingers? What indiscretions, that would -have fallen so delectably upon the inquisitive ears of -Herakleion, did he utter, secure in the confederacy of -his efficient and vigorous sister-in-law, of the more -negligible Robert, the untidy and taciturn Julian, the -indifferent Eve?</p> - -<p>It was as universally taken for granted that the outrage -proceeded from the islanders as it was ferociously -regretted that the offenders could not, from lack of -evidence, be brought to justice. They had, at the -moment, no special grievance; only their perennial -grievances, of which everybody was tired of hearing. -The brother of Vassili, a quite unimportant labourer, -had been released; M. Lafarge had interested himself in -his servant's brother, and had made representations to -the Premier, which Malteios had met with his usual -urbane courtesy. An hour later the fellow had been -seen setting out in a rowing boat for Aphros. All, -therefore, was for the best. Yet within twenty-four -hours of this proof of leniency....</p> - -<p>The élite were dining on the evening of these unexpected -occurrences at the French Legation to meet -two guests of honour, one a distinguished Albanian -statesman who could speak no language but his own, -and the other an Englishman of irregular appearances -and disappearances, an enthusiast on all matters connected -with the Near East. In the countries he visited -he was considered an expert who had the ear of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> -English Cabinet and House of Commons, but by these -institutions he was considered merely a crank and a -nuisance. His conversation was after the style of the -more economical type of telegram, with all prepositions, -most pronouns, and a good many verbs left out; it -gained thereby in mystery what it lost in intelligibility, -and added greatly to his reputation. He and the -Albanian had stood apart in confabulation before dinner, -the Englishman arguing, expounding, striking his open -palm with the fingers of the other hand, shooting out -his limbs in spasmodic and ungraceful gestures, the -Albanian unable to put in a word, but appreciatively -nodding his head and red fez.</p> - -<p>Madame Lafarge sat between them both at dinner, -listening to the Englishman as though she understood -what he was saying to her, which she did not, and -occasionally turning to the Albanian to whom she -smiled and nodded in a friendly and regretful way. -Whenever she did this he made her a profound bow and -drank her health in the sweet champagne. Here their -intercourse perforce ended.</p> - -<p>Half-way through dinner a note was handed to -M. Lafarge. He gave an exclamation which silenced all -his end of the table, and the Englishman's voice was -alone left talking in the sudden hush.</p> - -<p>'Turkey!' he was saying. 'Another matter! Ah, -ghost of Abdul Hamid!' and then, shaking his head -mournfully, 'world-treachery—world-conspiracy....'</p> - -<p>'Ah, yes,' said Madame Lafarge, rapt, 'how true that -is, how right you are.'</p> - -<p>She realised that no one else was speaking, and raised -her head interrogatively.</p> - -<p>Lafarge said,—</p> - -<p>'Something has occurred at the casino, but there is -no cause for alarm; nobody has been hurt. I am sending -a messenger for further details. This note explicitly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> -says'—he consulted it again—'that no one is injured. -A mere question of robbery; an impudent and successful -attempt. A bomb has been thrown,'—('<i>Mais ils sont -donc tous apaches?</i>' cried Condesa Valdez. Lafarge -went on)—'but they say the damage is all in the atrium, -and is confined to broken windows, torn hangings, and -mirrors cracked from top to bottom. Glass lies plentifully -scattered about the floor. But I hope that before -very long we may be in possession of a little more news.' -He sent the smile of a host round the table, reassuring -in the face of anxiety.</p> - -<p>A little pause, punctuated by a few broken ejaculations, -followed upon his announcement.</p> - -<p>'How characteristic of Herakleion,' cried Alexander -Christopoulos, who had been anxiously searching for -something noteworthy and contemptuous to say, 'that -even with the help of a bomb we can achieve only a -disaster that tinkles.'</p> - -<p>The Danish Excellency was heard to say tearfully,—</p> - -<p>'A robbery! a bomb! and practically in broad daylight! -What a place, what a place!'</p> - -<p>'Those Islands again, for certain!' Madame Delahaye -exclaimed, with entire absence of tact; her husband, the -French Military Attaché, frowned at her across the table; -and the diplomatists all looked down their noses.</p> - -<p>Then the Englishman, seeing his opportunity, broke -out,—</p> - -<p>'Very significant! all of a piece—anarchy—intrigue—no -strong hand—free peoples. Too many, too many. -Small nationalities. Chips! Cut-throats, all. So!'—he -drew his fingers with an expressive sibilant sound -across his own throat. 'Asking for trouble. Yugo-Slavs—bah! -Poles—pfui! Eastern empire, that's the thing. -Turks the only people'—the Albanian, fortunately -innocent of English, was smiling amiably as he stirred -his champagne—'great people. Armenians, wash-out.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> -Quite right too. Herakleion, worst of all. Not even -a chip. Only the chip of a chip.'</p> - -<p>'And the Islands,' said the Danish Excellency -brightly, 'want to be the chip of a chip of a chip.'</p> - -<p>'Yes, yes,' said Madame Lafarge, who had been -getting a little anxious, trying to provoke a laugh, 'Fru -Thyregod has hit it as usual—<i>elle a trouvé le mot juste</i>,' -she added, thinking that if she turned the conversation -back into French it might check the Englishman's -truncated eloquence.</p> - -<p>Out in the town, the quay was the centre of interest. -A large crowd had collected there, noisy in the immense -peace of the evening. Far, far out, a speck on the opal -sea, could still be distinguished the little boat in which -the three men, perpetrators of the outrage, had made -good their escape. Beyond the little boat, even less -distinct, the sea was dotted with tiny craft, the fleet -of fishing-boats from the Islands. The green light -gleamed at the end of the pier. On the quay, the -crowd gesticulated, shouted, and pointed, as the water -splashed under the ineffectual bullets from the carbines -of the police. The Chief of Police was there, giving -orders. The police motor-launch was to be got out -immediately. The crowd set up a cheer; they did not -know who the offenders were, but they would presently -have the satisfaction of seeing them brought back in -handcuffs.</p> - -<p>It was at this point that the entire Lafarge dinner-party -debouched upon the quay, the women wrapped -in their light cloaks, tremulous and excited, the men -affecting an amused superiority. They were joined by -the Chief of Police, and by the Christopoulos, father -and son. It was generally known, though never openly -referred to, that the principal interest in the casino -was held by them, a fact which explained the saffron-faced -little banker's present agitation.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> -<p>'The authorities must make better dispositions,' he -kept saying to Madame Lafarge. 'With this example -before them, half the blackguards of the country-side -will be making similar attempts. It is too absurdly -easy.'</p> - -<p>He glared at the Chief of Police.</p> - -<p>'Better dispositions,' he muttered, 'better dispositions.'</p> - -<p>'This shooting is ridiculous,' Alexander said impatiently, -'the boat is at least three miles away. What -do they hope to kill? a fish? Confound the dusk. -How soon will the launch be ready?'</p> - -<p>'It will be round to the steps at any moment now,' -said the Chief of Police, and he gave an order in an -irritable voice to his men, who had continued to let -off their carbines aimlessly and spasmodically.</p> - -<p>In spite of his assurance, the launch did not appear. -The Englishman was heard discoursing at length to -Madame Lafarge, who, at regular intervals, fervently -agreed with what he had been saying, and the Danish -Excellency whispered and tittered with young Christopoulos. -Social distinctions were sharply marked: the -diplomatic party stood away from the casual crowd, -and the casual crowd stood away from the rabble. Over -all the dusk deepened, one or two stars came out, and -the little boat was no longer distinguishable from the -fishing fleet with its triangular sails.</p> - -<p>Finally, throbbing, fussing, important, the motor-launch -came churning to a standstill at the foot of the -steps. The Chief of Police jumped in, Alexander followed -him, promising that he would come straight to the -French Legation on his return and tell them exactly -what had happened.</p> - -<p>In the mirrored drawing-rooms, three hours later, -he made his recital. The gilt chairs were drawn round -in a circle, in the middle of which he stood, aware that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> -the Danish Excellency was looking at him, enraptured, -with her prominent blue eyes.</p> - -<p>'Of course, in spite of the start they had had, we knew -that they stood no chance against a motor-boat, no -chance whatsoever. They could not hope to reach -Aphros before we overtook them. We felt quite confident -that it was only a question of minutes. We agreed that -the men must have been mad to imagine that they -could make good their escape in that way. Sterghiou -and I sat in the stern, smoking and talking. What -distressed us a little was that we could no longer see -the boat we were after, but you know how quickly the -darkness comes, so we paid very little attention to that.</p> - -<p>'Presently we came up with the fishing smacks from -Aphros, and they shouted to us to keep clear of their -tackle—impudence. We shut off our engines while we -made inquiries from them as to the rowing-boat. Rowing-boat? -they looked blank. They had seen no -rowing-boat—no boat of any sort, other than their own. -The word was passed, shouting, from boat to boat of -the fleet; no one had seen a rowing-boat. Of course they -were lying; how could they not be lying? but the -extraordinary fact remained'—he made an effective -pause—'there was no sign of a rowing-boat anywhere -on the sea.'</p> - -<p>A movement of appreciative incredulity produced -itself among his audience.</p> - -<p>'Not a sign!' Alexander repeated luxuriously. 'The -sea lay all round us without a ripple, and the fishing -smacks, although they were under full sail, barely -moved. It was so still that we could see their reflection -unbroken in the water. There might have been twenty -of them, dotted about—twenty crews of bland liars. -We were, I may as well admit it, nonplussed. What -can you do when you are surrounded by smiling and -petticoated liars, leaning against their masts, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> -persisting in idiotic blankness to all your questions? -Denial, denial, was all their stronghold. They had seen -nothing. But they must be blind to have seen -nothing? They were very sorry, they had seen nothing -at all. Would the gentlemen look round for themselves, -they would soon be satisfied that nothing was in sight.</p> - -<p>'As for the idea that the boat had reached Aphros -in the time at their disposal, it was absolutely out of -the question.</p> - -<p>'I could see that Sterghiou was getting very angry; -I said nothing, but I think he was uncomfortable -beneath my silent criticism. He and his police could -regulate the traffic in the rue Royale, but they could -not cope with an emergency of this sort. From the -very first moment they had been at fault. And they -had taken at least twenty minutes to get out the motor-launch. -Sterghiou hated me, I feel sure, for having -accompanied him and seen his discomfiture.</p> - -<p>'Anyway, he felt he must take some sort of action, so -he ordered his men to search all the fishing smacks in -turn. We went the round, a short throbbing of the -motors, and then silence as we drew alongside and the -men went on board. Of course, they found nothing. -I watched the faces of the islanders during this inspection; -they sat on the sides of their boats, busy with -their nets, and pretending not to notice the police that -moved about, turning everything over in their inefficient -way, but I guessed their covert grins, and I swear I -caught two of them winking at one another. If I had -told this to Sterghiou, I believe he would have arrested -them on the spot, he was by then in such a state of -exasperation, but you can't arrest a man on a wink, -especially a wink when darkness has very nearly come.</p> - -<p>'And there the matter remains. We had found -nothing, and we were obliged to turn round and come -back again, leaving that infernally impudent fleet of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> -smacks in possession of the battle-ground. Oh, yes, -there is no doubt that they got the best of it. Because, -naturally, we have them to thank.'</p> - -<p>'Have you a theory, Alexander?' some one asked, as -they were intended to ask.</p> - -<p>Alexander shrugged.</p> - -<p>'It is so obvious. A knife through the bottom of -the boat would very quickly send her to the bottom, -and a shirt and a fustanelle will very quickly transform -a respectable bank-thief into an ordinary islander. -Who knows that the two ruffians I saw winking were not -the very men we were after? A sufficiently ingenious -scheme altogether—too ingenious for poor Sterghiou.'</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> - -<h2>IV</h2> - -<p>These things came, made their stir, passed, and were -forgotten, leaving only a quickened ripple upon the -waters of Herakleion, of which Julian Davenant, undergraduate, -aged nineteen, bordering upon twenty, was -shortly made aware. He had arrived from England -with no other thought in his mind than of his riding, -hawking, and sailing, but found himself almost immediately -netted in a tangle of affairs of which, hitherto, he -had known only by the dim though persistent echoes -which reached him through the veils of his deliberate -indifference. He found now that his indifference was -to be disregarded. Men clustered round him, shouting, -and tearing with irascible hands at his unsubstantial -covering. He was no longer permitted to remain a boy. -The half-light of adolescence was peopled for him by -a procession of figures, fortunately distinct by virtue -of their life-long familiarity, figures that urged and -upbraided him, some indignant, some plaintive, some -reproachful, some vehement, some dissimulating and -sly; many vociferous, all insistent; a crowd of human -beings each playing his separate hand, each the expounder -of his own theory, rooted in his own conviction; a -succession of intrigues, men who took him by the arm, -and, leading him aside, discoursed to him, a strange -medley of names interlarding their discourse with concomitant -abuse or praise; men who flattered him; men -who sought merely his neutrality, speaking of his -years in tones of gentle disparagement. Men who, -above all, would not leave him alone. Who, by -their persecution, even those who urged his youth -as an argument in favour of his neutrality,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> -demonstrated to him that he had, as a man, entered -the arena.</p> - -<p>For his part, badgered and astonished, he took refuge -in a taciturnity which only tantalised his pursuers into -a more zealous aggression. His opinions were unknown -in the club where the men set upon him from the first -moment of his appearance. He would sit with his legs -thrown over the arm of a leather arm-chair, loose-limbed -and gray-flannelled, his mournful eyes staring out of -the nearest window, while Greek, diplomat, or foreigner -argued at him with gesture and emphasis. They -seemed to him, had they but known, surprisingly -unreal for all their clamour, pompous and yet insignificant.</p> - -<p>His father was aware of the attacks delivered on his -son, but, saying nothing, allowed the natural and varied -system of education to take its course. He saw him -standing, grave and immovable, in the surging crowd -of philosophies and nationalities, discarding the charlatan -by some premature wisdom, and assimilating the rare -crumbs of true worldly experience. He himself was -ignorant of the thoughts passing in the boy's head. He -had forgotten the visionary tumult of nineteen, when -the storm of life flows first over the pleasant, easy meadows -of youth. Himself now a sober man, he had forgotten, -so completely that he had ceased to believe in, the -facile succession of convictions, the uprooting of beliefs, -the fanatical acceptance of newly proffered creeds. He -scarcely considered, or he might perhaps not so readily -have risked, the possible effect of the queer systems -of diverse ideals picked up, unconsciously, and put -together from the conversation of the mountebank -administrators of that tiny state, the melodramatic -champions of the oppressed poor, and the professional -cynicism of dago adventurers. If, sometimes, he wondered -what Julian made of the talk that had become a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> -jargon, he dismissed his uneasiness with a re-affirmation -of confidence in his impenetrability.</p> - -<p>'Broaden his mind,' he would say. 'It won't hurt -him. It doesn't go deep. Foam breaking upon a rock.'</p> - -<p>So might Sir Henry have spoken, to whom the swags -of fruit were but the vintage of a particular year, put -into a labelled bottle.</p> - -<p>Julian had gone more than once out of a boyish -curiosity to hear the wrangle of the parties in the -Chamber. Sitting up in the gallery, and leaning his -arms horizontally on the top of the brass railing, he had -looked down on the long tables covered with red baize, -whereon reposed, startlingly white, a square sheet of -paper before the seat of each deputy, and a pencil, carefully -sharpened, alongside. He had seen the deputies -assemble, correctly frock-coated, punctiliously shaking -hands with one another, although they had probably -spent the morning in one another's company at the -club—the club was the natural meeting-place of the -Greeks and the diplomats, while the foreigners, a doubtful -lot, congregated either in the gambling-rooms or in -the <i>jardin anglais</i> of the casino. He had watched them -taking their places with a good deal of coughing, throat-clearing, -and a certain amount of expectoration. He -had seen the Premier come in amid a general hushing of -voices, and take his seat in the magisterial arm-chair -in the centre of the room, behind an enormous ink-pot, -pulling up the knees of his trousers and smoothing his -beard away from his rosy lips with the tips of his fingers -as he did so. Julian's attention had strayed from the -formalities attendant upon the opening of the session, -and his eyes had wandered to the pictures hanging on -the walls: Aristidi Patros, the first Premier, after the -secession from Greece, b. 1760, d. 1831, Premier of the -Republic of Herakleion from 1826 to 1830; Pericli -Anghelis, general, 1774-1847; Constantine Stavridis,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> -Premier from 1830 to 1835, and again from 1841 to 1846, -when he died assassinated. The portraits of the other -Premiers hung immediately below the gallery where -Julian could not see them. At the end of the room, -above the doors, hung a long and ambitious painting -executed in 1840 and impregnated with the romanticism -of that age, representing the Declaration of Independence -in the <i>platia</i> of Herakleion on the 16th September—kept -as an ever memorable and turbulent anniversary—1826. -The Premier, Patros, occupied the foreground, declaiming -from a scroll of parchment, and portrayed as a -frock-coated young man of godlike beauty; behind him -stood serried ranks of deputies, and in the left-hand -corner a group of peasants, like an operatic chorus, -tossed flowers from baskets on to the ground at his feet. -The heads of women clustered at the windows of the -familiar houses of the <i>platia</i>, beneath the fluttering flags -with the colours of the new Republic, orange and green.</p> - -<p>Julian always thought that a portrait of his grandfather, -for twelve months President of the collective -archipelago of Hagios Zacharie, should have been included -among the notables.</p> - -<p>He had tried to listen to the debates which followed -upon the formal preliminaries; to the wrangle of -opponents; to the clap-trap patriotism which so thinly -veiled the desire of personal advancement; to the -rodomontade of Panaïoannou, Commander-in-Chief of -the army of four hundred men, whose sky-blue uniform -and white breeches shone among all the black coats with -a resplendency that gratified his histrionic vanity; to -the bombastic eloquence which rolled out from the -luxuriance of the Premier's beard, with a startling and -deceptive dignity in the trappings of the ancient and -classic tongue. Malteios used such long, such high-sounding -words, and struck his fist upon the red baize -table with such emphatic energy, that it was hard not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> -to believe in the authenticity of his persuasion. Julian -welcomed most the moments when, after a debate of an -hour or more, tempers grew heated, and dignity—that -is to say, the pretence of the sobriety of the gathering—was -cast aside in childish petulance.</p> - -<p>'The fur flew,' said Julian, who had enjoyed himself. -'Christopoulos called Panaïoannou a fire-eater, and -Panaïoannou called Christopoulos a money-grubber. -"Where would you be without my money?" "Where -would you be without my army?" "Army! can the -valiant general inform the Chamber how many of his -troops collapsed from exhaustion on the <i>platia</i> last -Independence Day, and had to be removed to the -hospital?" And so on and so forth. They became so -personal that I expected the general at any moment to -ask Christopoulos how many unmarried daughters he -had at home.'</p> - -<p>Malteios himself, president of the little republic, most -plausible and empiric of politicians, was not above the -discussion of current affairs with the heir of the Davenants -towards whom, it was suspected, the thoughts of the -islanders were already turning. The President was -among those who adopted the attitude of total discouragement. -The interference of a headstrong and no -doubt Quixotic schoolboy would be troublesome; might -become disastrous. Having dined informally with the -Davenant brothers at their country house, he crossed -the drawing-room after dinner, genial, a long cigar -protruding from his mouth, to the piano in the corner -where Eve and Julian were turning over some sheets of -music.</p> - -<p>'May an old man,' he said with his deliberate but -nevertheless charming suavity, 'intrude for a moment -upon the young?'</p> - -<p>He sat down, removing his cigar, and discoursed for -a little upon the advantages of youth. He led the talk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> -to Julian's Oxford career, and from there to his future -in Herakleion.</p> - -<p>'A knotty little problem, as you will some day find—not, -I hope, for your own sake, until a very remote -some day. Perhaps not until I and my friend and -opponent Gregori Stavridis are figures of the past,' he -said, puffing smoke and smiling at Julian; 'then perhaps -you will take your place in Herakleion and bring your -influence to bear upon your very difficult and contrary -Islands. Oh, very difficult, I assure you,' he continued, -shaking his head. 'I am a conciliatory man myself, and -not unkindly, I think I may say; they would find -Gregori Stavridis a harder taskmaster than I. They are -the oldest cause of dispute, your Islands, between -Gregori Stavridis and myself. Now see,' he went on, -expanding, 'they lie like a belt of neutral territory, your -discontented, your so terribly and unreasonably discontented -Islands, between me and Stavridis. We may -agree upon other points; upon that point we continually -differ. He urges upon the Senate a policy of severity -with which I cannot concur. I wish to compromise, to -keep the peace, but he is, alas! perpetually aggressive. -He invades the neutral zone, as it were, from the west—periodical -forays—and I am obliged to invade it from -the east; up till now we have avoided clashing in the -centre.' Malteios, still smiling, sketched the imaginary -lines of his illustration on his knee with the unlighted -tip of his cigar. 'I would coax, and he would force, the -islanders to content and friendliness.'</p> - -<p>Julian listened, knowing well that Malteios and Stavridis, -opponents from an incorrigible love of opposition -for opposition's sake, rather than from any genuine -diversity of conviction, had long since seized upon the -Islands as a convenient pretext. Neither leader had -any very definite conception of policy beyond the desire, -respectively, to remain in, or to get himself into, power.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> -Between them the unfortunate Islands, pulled like a rat -between two terriers, were given ample cause for the -discontent of which Malteios complained. Malteios, it -was true, adopted the more clement attitude, but for -this clemency, it was commonly said, the influence of -Anastasia Kato was alone responsible.</p> - -<p>Through the loud insistent voices of the men, Julian -was to remember in after years the low music of that -woman's voice, and to see, as in a vignette, the picture -of himself in Kato's flat among the cushions of her -divan, looking again in memory at the photographs and -ornaments on the shelf that ran all round the four walls -of the room, at the height of the top of a dado. These -ornaments appeared to him the apotheosis of cosmopolitanism. -There were small, square wooden -figures from Russia, a few inches high, and brightly -coloured; white and gray Danish china; little silver -images from Spain; miniature plants of quartz and jade; -Battersea snuff-boxes; photographs of an Austrian -archduke in a white uniform and a leopard-skin, of a -Mexican in a wide sombrero, mounted on a horse and -holding a lasso, of Mounet-Sully as the blinded Œdipus. -Every available inch of space in the singer's room was -crowded with these and similar trophies, and the shelf -had been added to take the overflow. Oriental embroideries, -heavily silvered, were tacked up on the walls, and -on them again were plates and brackets, the latter carrying -more ornaments; high up in one corner was an ikon, -and over the doors hung open-work linen curtains from -the bazaars of Constantinople. Among the many ornaments -the massive singer moved freely and spaciously, -creating havoc as she moved, so that Julian's dominating -impression remained one of setting erect again the -diminutive objects she had knocked over. She would -laugh good-humouredly at herself, and would give him -unequalled Turkish coffee in little handleless cups, like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> -egg-cups, off a tray of beaten brass set on a small -octagonal table inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and all the -while she would talk to him musically, earnestly, bending -forward, and her restless fingers would turn the bangles -round and round upon her arms.</p> - -<p>He could not think Kato unreal, though many of the -phrases upon her lips were the same as he heard from -the men in the club; he could not think her unreal, -when her voice broke over the words 'misery' and -'oppression,' and when her eyes burned their conviction -into his. He began to believe in the call of the Islands, -as he listened to the soft, slurring speech of their people -in her voice, and discovered, listening to her words with -only half his mind, the richness of the grapes in the -loose coils of her dark hair, and the fulvous colouring -of the Islands in the copper draperies she always affected. -It seemed to Julian that, at whatever time of day he -saw her, whether morning, afternoon, or evening, she -was always wearing the same dress, but he supposed -vaguely that this could not actually be so. Like his -father, he maintained her as a woman of genuine -patriotic ardour, dissociating her from Herakleion -and its club and casino, and associating her with the -Islands where injustice and suffering, at least, were -true things. He lavished his enthusiasm upon her, and -his relations learned to refrain, in his presence, from -making the usual obvious comments on her appearance. -He looked upon her flat as a sanctuary and a shrine. He -fled one day in disgust and disillusionment when the -Premier appeared with his ingratiating smile in the -doorway. Julian had known, of course, of the liaison, but -was none the less distressed and nauseated when it -materialised beneath his eyes.</p> - -<p>He fled to nurse his soul-sickness in the country, -lying on his back at full length under the olive-trees on -the lower slopes of Mount Mylassa, his hands beneath<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> -his head, his horse moving near by and snuffing for -pasture on the bare terraces. The sea, to-day of the -profoundest indigo, sparkled in the sun below, and -between the sea and the foot of the mountain, plainly, -as in an embossed map, stretched the strip of flat -cultivated land where he could distinguish first the dark -ilex avenue, then the ribbon of road, then the village, -finally the walled plantation which was his uncle's -garden, and the roofs of the low house in the centre. -The bougainvillea climbing over the walls and roof of -his uncle's house made a warm stain of magenta.</p> - -<p>Herakleion was hidden from sight, on the other hand, -by the curve of the hill, but the Islands were visible -opposite, and, caring only for them, he gazed as he had -done many times, but now their meaning and purport -crystallised in his mind as never before. There was something -symbolical in their detachment from the mainland—in -their clean remoteness, their isolation; all the -difference between the unfettered ideal and the tethered -reality. An island land that had slipped the leash of -continents, forsworn solidarity, cut adrift from security -and prudence! One could readily believe that they made -part of the divine, the universal discontent, that rare -element, dynamic, life-giving, that here and there was -to be met about the world, always fragmentary, yet -always full and illuminating, even as the fragments of -beauty.</p> - -<p>This was a day which Julian remembered, marked, -as it were, with an asterisk in the calendar of his mind, -by two notes which he found awaiting him on his -return to the house in the <i>platia</i>. Aristotle handed them -to him as he dismounted at the door.</p> - -<p>The first he opened was from Eve.</p> - -<blockquote><p>'I am so angry with you, Julian. What have you done -to my Kato? I found her in tears. She says you were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> -with her when the Premier came, and that you vanished -without a word.</p> - -<p>'I know your <i>sauts de gazelle</i>; you are suddenly bored or -annoyed, and you run away. Very naïf, very charming, -very candid, very fawn-like—or is it, hideous suspicion, -a pose?'</p></blockquote> - -<p>He was surprised and hurt by her taunt. One did -not wish to remain, so one went away; it seemed to -him very simple.</p> - -<p>The second note was from Kato.</p> - -<blockquote><p>'Julian, forgive me,' it ran; 'I did not know he was -coming. Forgive me. Send me a message to say when -I shall see you. I did not know he was coming. Forgive -me.'</p></blockquote> - -<p>He read these notes standing in the drawing-room -with the palely-frescoed walls. He looked up from -reading them, and encountered the grinning faces of the -painted monkeys and the perspective of the romantic -landscape. The colours were faint, and the rough grain -of the plaster showed through in tiny lumps. Why -should Kato apologise to him for the unexpected arrival -of her lover? It was not his business. He sat down -and wrote her a perfectly polite reply to say that he had -nothing to forgive and had no intention of criticising -her actions. The sense of unreality was strong within -him.</p> - -<p class="space-above">It seemed that he could not escape the general -determination to involve him, on one side or the other, -in the local affairs. Besides the men at the club, Sharp, -the head clerk at the office, spoke to him—'The people -look to you, Mr Julian; better keep clear of the Islands -if you don't want a crowd of women hanging round -kissing your hands--Vassili, the chasseur, murmured<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> -to him in the hall when he went to dine at the French -Legation; Walters, the <i>Times</i> correspondent in Herakleion, -winked to him with a man to man expression that -flattered the boy.</p> - -<p>'I know the Balkans inside out, mind you; nearly -lost my head to the Bulgars and my property to the -Serbs; I've been held to ransom by Albanian brigands, -and shot at in the streets of Athens on December the -second; I've had my rooms ransacked by the police, -and I could have been a rich man now if I'd accepted -half the bribes that I've had offered me. So you can -have my advice, if you care to hear it, and that is, hold -your tongue till you're sure you know your own mind.'</p> - -<p>The women, following the lead, chattered to him. -He had never known such popularity. It was hard, at -times, to preserve his non-committal silence, yet he -knew, ignorant and irresolute, that therein lay his only -hope of safety. They must not perceive that they had -taken him unawares, that he was hopelessly at sea in -the mass of names, reminiscences, and prophecies that -they showered upon him. They must not suspect that -he really knew next to nothing about the situation....</p> - -<p>He felt his way cautiously and learnt, and felt his -strength growing.</p> - -<p>In despite of Sharp's warning, he went across to the -Islands, taking with him Father Paul. Eve exclaimed -that he took the priest solely from a sense of the suitability -of a retinue, and Julian, though he denied the -charge, did not do so very convincingly. He had -certainly never before felt the need of a retinue. He -had always spent at least a week of his holidays on -Aphros, taking his favourite hawk with him, and living -either in his father's house in the village, or staying -with the peasants. When he returned, he was always -uncommunicative as to how he had passed his time.</p> - -<p>Because he felt the stirring of events in the air, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> -because he knew from signs and hints dropped to him -that his coming was awaited with an excited expectancy, -he chose to provide himself with the dignity of an -attendant. He had, characteristically, breathed no -word of his suspicions, but moved coldly self-reliant in -the midst of his uncertainties. Father Paul only thought -him more than usually silent as he busied himself with -the sail of his little boat and put out to sea from the -pier of Herakleion. Aphros lay ahead, some seven or -eight miles—a couple of hours' sailing in a good breeze.</p> - -<p>His white sails were observed some way off by the -villagers, who by chance were already assembled at the -weekly market in the village square. They deserted the -pens and stalls to cluster round the top of the steps -that descended, steep as an upright ladder, and cut in -the face of the rock, from the market place straight -down to the sea, where the white foam broke round the -foot of the cliff. Julian saw the coloured crowd from -his boat; he distinguished faces as he drew nearer, and -made out the flutter of handkerchiefs from the hands of -the women. The village hung sheerly over the sea, the -face of the white houses flat with the face of the brown -rocks, the difference of colour alone betraying where the -one began and the other ended, as though some giant -carpenter had planed away all inequalities of surface -from the eaves down to the washing water. The fleet -of fishing-boats, their bare, graceful masts swaying a -little from the perpendicular as the boats ranged gently -at their moorings with the sigh of the almost imperceptible -waves, lay like resting seagulls in the harbour.</p> - -<p>'They are waiting to welcome you—feudal, too -feudal,' growled Father Paul, who, though himself the -creature and dependent of the Davenants, loudly upheld -his democratic views for the rest of mankind.</p> - -<p>'And why?' muttered Julian. 'This has never -happened before. I have been away only four months.'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> -<p>Three fishermen wearing the white kilted fustanelle -and tasselled shoes were already on the jetty with hands -outstretched to take his mooring-rope. Eager faces -looked down from above, and a hum went through the -little crowd as Julian sprang on to the jetty, the boat -rocking as his weight released it—a hum that died slowly, -like the note of an organ, fading harmoniously into a -complete silence. Paul knew suddenly that the moment -was significant. He saw Julian hesitate, faltering as it -were between sea and land, his dark head and broad -shoulders framed in an immensity of blue, the cynosure -of the crowd above, still silent and intent upon his -actions. He hesitated until his hesitation became -apparent to all. Paul saw that his hands were shut and -his face stern. The silence of the crowd was becoming -oppressive, when a woman's voice rang out like a bell -in the pellucid air,—</p> - -<p>'Liberator!'</p> - -<p>Clear, sudden, and resonant, the cry vibrated and -hung upon echo, so that the mind followed it, when it -was no more heard, round the island coast, where it -ran up into the rocky creeks, and entered upon the -breeze into the huts of goat-herds on the hill. Julian -slowly raised his head as at a challenge. He looked up -into the furnace of eyes bent upon him, lustrous eyes -in the glow of faces tanned to a golden brown, finding -in all the same query, the same expectancy, the same -breathless and suspended confidence. For a long -moment he gazed up, and they gazed down, challenge, -acceptance, homage, loyalty, devotion, and covenant -passing unspoken between them; then, his hesitation -a dead and discarded thing, he moved forward and set -his foot firmly upon the lowest step. The silence of the -crowd was broken by a single collective murmur.</p> - -<p>The crowd—which consisted of perhaps not more than -fifty souls, men and women—parted at the top as his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> -head and shoulders appeared on the level of the market-place. -Paul followed, tripping over his soutane on the -ladder-like stairs. He saw Julian's white shoes climbing, -climbing the flight, until the boy stood deliberately upon -the market-place. A few goats were penned up for sale -between wattled hurdles, bleating for lost dams or kids; -a clothes-stall displayed highly-coloured handkerchiefs, -boleros for the men, silk sashes, puttees, tasselled caps, -and kilted fustanelles; a fruit-stall, lined with bright -blue paper, was stacked from floor to ceiling with -oranges, figs, bunches of grapes, and scarlet tomatoes. -An old woman, under an enormous green umbrella, sat -hunched on the back of a tiny gray donkey.</p> - -<p>Julian stood, grave and moody, surveying the people -from under lowered brows. They were waiting for him -to speak to them, but, as a contrast to the stifled -volubility seething in their own breasts, his stillness, -unexpected and surprising, impressed them more than -any flow of eloquence. He seemed to have forgotten -about them, though his eyes dwelt meditatively on -their ranks; he seemed remote, preoccupied; faintly -disdainful, though tolerant, of the allegiance they had -already, mutely, laid at his feet, and were prepared to -offer him in terms of emotional expression. He seemed -content to take this for granted. He regarded them for -a space, then turned to move in the direction of his -father's house.</p> - -<p>The people pressed forward after him, a whispering -and rustling bodyguard, disconcerted but conquered -and adoring. Their numbers had been increased since -the news of his landing had run through the town. -Fishermen, and labourers from olive-grove and vineyard, -men whose lives were lived in the sun, their -magnificent bare throats and arms glowed like nectarines -in the white of the loose shirts they wore. Knotted -handkerchiefs were about their heads, and many of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> -them wore broad hats of rough straw over the handkerchief. -Ancestrally more Italian than Greek, for the -original population of the archipelago of Hagios Zacharie -had, centuries before, been swamped by the settlements -of colonising Genoese, they resembled the peasants of -southern Italy.</p> - -<p>The headman of the village walked with them, -Tsantilas Tsigaridis, sailor and fisherman since he could -remember, whose skin was drawn tightly over the fine -bony structure of his face, and whose crisp white hair -escaped in two bunches over his temples from under the -red handkerchief he wore; he was dressed, incongruously -enough, in a blue English jersey which Mrs -Davenant had given him, and a coffee-coloured fustanelle. -Behind the crowd, as though he were shepherding them, -Nico Zapantiotis, overseer of the Davenant vineyards, -walked with a long pole in his hand, a white sheepdog -at his heels, and a striped blue and white shirt fluttering -round his body, open at the throat, and revealing the -swelling depth of his hairy chest. Between these two -notables pressed the crowd, bronzed and coloured, eyes -eager and attentive and full of fire, a gleam of silver -ear-rings among the shiny black ringlets. Bare feet and -heelless shoes shuffled alike over the cobbles.</p> - -<p>At the end of the narrow street, where the children -ran out as in the story of the Pied Piper to join in the -progress, the doorway of the Davenant house faced them.</p> - -<p>It was raised on three steps between two columns. -The monastery had been a Genoese building, but the -Greek influence was unmistakable in the columns and -the architrave over the portico. Julian strode forward -as though unconscious of his following. Paul became -anxious. He hurried alongside.</p> - -<p>'You must speak to these people,' he whispered.</p> - -<p>Julian mounted the steps and turned in the dark -frame of the doorway. The people had come to a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> -standstill, filling the narrow street. It was now they who -looked up to Julian, and he who looked down upon -them, considering them, still remote and preoccupied, -conscious that here and now the seed sown in the club-rooms -must bear its fruit, that life, grown impatient -of waiting for a summons he did not give, had come to -him of its own accord and ordered him to take the -choice of peace or war within its folded cloak. If he had -hoped to escape again to England with a decision still -untaken, that hope was to be deluded. He was being -forced and hustled out of his childhood into the responsibilities -of a man. He could not plead the nebulousness -of his mind; action called to him, loud and insistent. -In vain he told himself, with the frown deepening between -his brows, and the people who watched him torn with -anxiety before that frown—in vain he told himself that -the situation was fictitious, theatrical. He could not -convince himself of this truth with the fire of the people's -gaze directed upon him. He must speak to them; they -were silent, expectant, waiting. The words broke from -him impelled, as he thought, by his terror of his own -helplessness and lack of control, but to his audience -they came as a command, a threat, and an invitation.</p> - -<p>'What is it you want of me?'</p> - -<p>He stood on the highest of the three steps, alone, the -back of his head pressed against the door, and a hand -on each of the flanking columns. The black-robed -priest had taken his place below him, to one side, on -the ground level. Julian felt a sudden resentment -against these waiting people, that had driven him to -bay, the resentment of panic and isolation, but to them, -his attitude betraying nothing, he appeared infallible, -dominating, and inaccessible.</p> - -<p>Tsantilas Tsigaridis came forward as spokesman, -a gold ring hanging in the lobe of one ear, and a heavy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> -silver ring shining dully on the little finger of his brown, -knotted hand.</p> - -<p>'Kyrie,' he said, 'Angheliki Zapantiotis has hailed -you. We are your own people. By the authorities we -are persecuted as though we were Bulgars, we, their -brothers in blood. Last week a score of police came in -boats from Herakleion and raided our houses in search -of weapons. Our women ran screaming to the vineyards. -Such weapons as the police could find were but -the pistols we carry for ornament on the feast-days of -church, and these they removed, for the sake, as we -know, not being blind, of the silver on the locks which -they will use to their own advantage. By such persecutions -we are harried. We may never know when a hand -will not descend on one of our number, on a charge of -sedition or conspiracy, and he be seen no more. We are not -organised for resistance. We are blind beasts, leaderless.'</p> - -<p>A woman in the crowd began to sob, burying her -face in her scarlet apron. A man snarled his approval -of the spokesman's words, and spat violently into the -gutter.</p> - -<p>'And you demand of me?' said Julian, again breaking -his silence. 'Championship? leadership? You cannot -say you are unjustly accused of sedition! What report -of Aphros could I carry to Herakleion?'</p> - -<p>He saw the people meek, submissive, beneath his -young censure, and the knowledge of his power surged -through him like a current through water.</p> - -<p>'Kyrie,' said the old sailor, reproved, but with the -same inflexible dignity, 'we know that we are at your -mercy. But we are your own people. We have been -the people of your people for four generations. The -authorities have torn even the painting of your grandfather -from the walls of our assembly room....'</p> - -<p>'Small blame to them,' thought Julian; 'that shows -their good sense.'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> -<p>Tsantilas pursued,—</p> - -<p>' ... we are left neither public nor private liberty. -We are already half-ruined by the port-dues which are -directed against us islanders and us alone.' A crafty -look came into his eyes. 'Here, Kyrie, you should be -in sympathy.'</p> - -<p>Julian's moment of panic had passed; he was now -conscious only of his complete control. He gave way -to the anger prompted by the mercenary trait of the -Levantine that marred the man's natural and splendid -dignity.</p> - -<p>'What sympathy I may have,' he said loudly, 'is -born of compassion, and not of avaricious interest.'</p> - -<p>He could not have told what instinct urged him to -rebuke these people to whose petition he was decided -to yield. He observed that with each fresh reproof -they cringed the more.</p> - -<p>'Compassion, Kyrie, and proprietary benevolence,' -Tsantilas rejoined, recognising his mistake. 'We know -that in you we find a disinterested mediator. We pray -to God that we may be allowed to live at peace with -Herakleion. We pray that we may be allowed to place -our difficulties and our sorrows in your hands for a -peaceful settlement.'</p> - -<p>Julian looked at him, majestic as an Arab and more -cunning than a Jew, and a slightly ironical smile wavered -on his lips.</p> - -<p>'Old brigand,' he thought, 'the last thing he wants -is to live at peace with Herakleion; he's spoiling for a -stand-up fight. Men on horses, himself at their head, -charging the police down this street, and defending our -house like a beleaguered fort; rifles cracking from every -window, and the more police corpses the better. May -I be there to see it!'</p> - -<p>His mind flew to Eve, whom he had last seen lying -in a hammock, drowsy, dressed in white, and breathing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> -the scent of the gardenia she held between her fingers. -What part would she, the spoilt, the exquisite, play if -there were to be bloodshed on Aphros?</p> - -<p>All this while he was silent, scowling at the multitude, -who waited breathless for his next words.</p> - -<p>'Father will half kill me,' he thought.</p> - -<p>At that moment Tsigaridis, overcome by his anxiety, -stretched out his hands towards him, surrendering his -dignity in a supreme appeal,—</p> - -<p>'Kyrie? I have spoken.'</p> - -<p>He dropped his hands to his sides, bowed his head, -and fell back a pace.</p> - -<p>Julian pressed his shoulders strongly against the -door; it was solid enough. The sun, striking on his -bare hand, was hot. The faces and necks and arms of -the people below him were made of real flesh and blood. -The tension, the anxiety in their eyes was genuine. He -chased away the unreality.</p> - -<p>'You have spoken,' he said, 'and I have -accepted.'</p> - -<p>The woman named Angheliki Zapantiotis, who had -hailed him as liberator, cast herself forward on to the -step at his feet, as a stir and a movement, that audibly -expressed itself in the shifting of feet and the releasing -of contained breaths, ruffled through the crowd. He -lifted his hand to enjoin silence, and spoke with his -hand raised high above the figure of the woman crouching -on the step.</p> - -<p>He told them that there could now be no -going back, that, although the time of waiting might -seem to them long and weary, they must have hopeful -trust in him. He exacted from them trust, fidelity, and -obedience. His voice rang sharply on the word, and -his glance circled imperiously, challenging defiance. It -encountered none. He told them that he would never -give his sanction to violence save as a last resort. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> -became intoxicated with the unaccustomed wine of -oratory.</p> - -<p>'An island is our refuge; we are the garrison of a -natural fortress, that we can hold against the assault -of our enemies from the sea. We will never seek them -out, we will be content to wait, restrained and patient, -until they move with weapons in their hands against us. -Let us swear that our only guilt of aggression shall be -to preserve our coasts inviolate.'</p> - -<p>A deep and savage growl answered him as he paused. -He was flushed with the spirit of adventure, the prerogative -of youth. The force of youth moved so strongly -within him that every man present felt himself strangely -ready and equipped for the calls of the enterprise. A -mysterious alchemy had taken place. They, untutored, -unorganised, scarcely knowing what they wanted, much -less how to obtain it, had offered him the formless -material of their blind and chaotic rebellion, and he, -having blown upon it with the fire of his breath, was -welding it now to an obedient, tempered weapon in his -hands. He had taken control. He might disappear and -the curtains of silence close together behind his exit; -Paul, watching, knew that these people would henceforward -wait patiently, and with confidence, for his -return.</p> - -<p>He dropped suddenly from his rhetoric into a lower -key.</p> - -<p>'In the meantime I lay upon you a charge of discretion. -No one in Herakleion must get wind of this -meeting; Father Paul and I will be silent, the rest lies -with you. Until you hear of me again, I desire you to -go peaceably about your ordinary occupations.'</p> - -<p>'Better put that in,' he thought to himself.</p> - -<p>'I know nothing, nor do I wish to know,' he continued, -shrewdly examining their faces, 'of the part -you played in the robbery at the casino. I only know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> -that I will never countenance the repetition of any such -attempt; you will have to choose between me and your -brigandage.' He suddenly stamped his foot. 'Choose -now! which is it to be?'</p> - -<p>'Kyrie, Kyrie,' said Tsigaridis, 'you are our only -hope.'</p> - -<p>'Lift up your hands,' Julian said intolerantly.</p> - -<p>His eyes searched among the bronzed arms that rose -at his command like a forest of lances; he enjoyed -forcing obedience upon the crowd and seeing their -humiliation.</p> - -<p>'Very well,' he said then, and the hands sank, 'see -to it that you remember your promise. I have no more -to say. Wait, trust, and hope.'</p> - -<p>He carried his hand to his forehead and threw it out -before him in a gesture of farewell and dismissal.</p> - -<p>He suspected himself of having acted and spoken in -a theatrical manner, but he knew also that through the -chaos of his mind an unextinguishable light was dawning.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> - -<h2>V</h2> - -<p>Julian in the candour of his inexperience unquestioningly -believed that the story would not reach Herakleion. -Before the week was out, however, he found himself -curiously eyed in the streets, and by the end of the week, -going to dinner at the French Legation, he was struck -by the hush that fell as his name was announced in the -mirrored drawing-rooms. Madame Lafarge said to him -severely,—</p> - -<p>'Jeune homme, vous avez été très indiscret,' but a -smile lurked in her eyes beneath her severity.</p> - -<p>An immense Serbian, almost a giant, named Grbits, -with a flat, Mongolian face, loomed ominously over him.</p> - -<p>'Young man, you have my sympathy. You have -disquieted the Greeks. You may count at any time upon -my friendship.'</p> - -<p>His fingers were enveloped and crushed in Grbits' -formidable handshake.</p> - -<p>The older diplomatists greeted him with an assumption -of censure that was not seriously intended to veil -their tolerant amusement.</p> - -<p>'Do you imagine that we have nothing to do,' Don -Rodrigo Valdez said to him, 'that you set out to enliven -the affairs of Herakleion?'</p> - -<p>Fru Thyregod, the Danish Excellency, took him into -a corner and tapped him on the arm with her fan with -that half flirtatious, half friendly familiarity she adopted -towards all men.</p> - -<p>'You are a dark horse, my dark boy,' she said meaningly, -and, as he pretended ignorance, raising his brows -and shaking his head, added, 'I'm much indebted to you -as a living proof of my perception. I always told them;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> -I always said, "Carl, that boy is an adventurer," and -Carl said, "Nonsense, Mabel, your head is full of -romance," but I said, "Mark my words, Carl, that boy -will flare up; he's quiet now, but you'll have to reckon -with him."'</p> - -<p>He realised the extent of the gratitude of social -Herakleion. He had provided a flavour which was -emphatically absent from the usual atmosphere of these -gatherings. Every Legation in turn, during both the -summer and the winter season, extended its hospitality -to its colleagues with complete resignation as to the lack -of all possibility of the unforeseen. The rules of diplomatic -precedence rigorously demanding a certain grouping, -the Danish Excellency, for example, might sit before -her mirror fluffing out her already fluffy fair hair with -the complacent if not particularly pleasurable certainty -that this evening, at the French Legation, she would -be escorted in to dinner by the Roumanian Minister, -and that on her other hand would sit the Italian -Counsellor, while to-morrow, at the Spanish Legation, -she would be escorted to dinner by the Italian Counsellor -and would have upon her other hand the Roumanian -Minister—unless, indeed, no other Minister's wife but -Madame Lafarge was present, in which case she would -be placed on the left hand of Don Rodrigo Valdez. She -would have preferred to sit beside Julian Davenant, -but he, of course, would be placed amongst the young -men—secretaries, young Greeks, and what not—at the -end of the table. These young men—'les petits jeunes -gens du bout de la table,' as Alexander Christopoulos, -including himself in their number, contemptuously -called them—always ate mournfully through their -dinner without speaking to one another. They did not -enjoy themselves, nor did their host or hostess enjoy -having them there, but it was customary to invite -them.... Fru Thyregod knew that she must not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> -exhaust all her subjects of conversation with her two -neighbours this evening, but must keep a provision -against the morrow; therefore, true to her little science, -she refrained from mentioning Julian's adventure on -Aphros to the Roumanian, and discoursed on it behind -her fan to the Italian only. Other people seemed to be -doing the same. Julian heard whispers, and saw glances -directed towards him. Distinctly, Herakleion and its -hostesses would be grateful to him.</p> - -<p>He felt slightly exhilarated. He noticed that no -Greeks were present, and thought that they had been -omitted on his account. He reflected, not without a -certain apprehensive pleasure, that if this roomful knew, -as it evidently did, the story would not be long in -reaching his father. Who had betrayed him? Not Paul, -he was sure, nor Kato, to whom he had confided the -story. (Tears had come into her eyes, she had clasped -her hands, and she had kissed him, to his surprise, on -his forehead.) He was glad on the whole that he had -been betrayed. He had come home in a fever of exaltation -and enthusiasm which had rendered concealment -both damping and irksome. Little incidents, of significance -to him alone, had punctuated his days by reminders -of his incredible, preposterous, and penetrating secret; -to-night, for instance, the chasseur in the hall, the big, -scarlet-coated chasseur, an islander, had covertly kissed -his hand....</p> - -<p>His father took an unexpected view. Julian had -been prepared for anger, in fact he had the countering -phrases already in his mind as he mounted the stairs of -the house in the <i>platia</i> on returning from the French -Legation. His father was waiting, a candle in his hand, -on the landing.</p> - -<p>'I heard you come in. I want to ask you, Julian,' -he said at once, 'whether the story I have heard in the -club to-night is true? That you went to Aphros, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> -entered into heaven knows what absurd covenant with -the people?'</p> - -<p>Julian flushed at the reprimanding tone.</p> - -<p>'I knew that you would not approve,' he said. 'But -one must do something. Those miserable, bullied -people, denied the right to live....'</p> - -<p>'Tut,' said his father impatiently. 'Have they really -taken you in? I thought you had more sense. I have -had a good deal of trouble in explaining to Malteios -that you are only a hot-headed boy, carried away by -the excitement of the moment. You see, I am trying to -make excuses for you, but I am annoyed, Julian, I am -annoyed. I thought I could trust you. Paul, too. -However, you bring your own punishment on your head, -for you will have to keep away from Herakleion in the -immediate future.'</p> - -<p>'Keep away from Herakleion?' cried Julian.</p> - -<p>'Malteios' hints were unmistakable,' his father said -dryly. 'I am glad to see you are dismayed. You had -better go to bed now, and I will speak to you to-morrow.'</p> - -<p>Mr Davenant started to go upstairs, but turned again, -and came down the two or three steps, still holding his -candle in his hand.</p> - -<p>'Come,' he said in a tone of remonstrance, 'if you -really take the thing seriously, look at it at least for -a moment with practical sense. What is the grievance -of the Islands? That they want to be independent from -Herakleion. If they must belong to anybody, they say, -let them belong to Italy rather than to Greece or to -Herakleion. And why? Because they speak an Italian -rather than a Greek patois! Because a lot of piratical -Genoese settled in them five hundred years ago! Well, -what do you propose to do, my dear Julian? Hand the -Islands over to Italy?'</p> - -<p>'They want independence,' Julian muttered. 'They -aren't even allowed to speak their own language,' he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> -continued, raising his voice. 'You know it is forbidden -in the schools. You know that the port-dues in Herakleion -ruin them—and are intended to ruin them. You -know they are oppressed in every petty as well as in -every important way. You know that if they were -independent they wouldn't trouble Herakleion.'</p> - -<p>'Independent! independent!' said Mr Davenant, -irritable and uneasy. 'Still, you haven't told me -what you proposed to do. Did you mean to create a -revolution?'</p> - -<p>Julian hesitated. He did not know. He said boldly,—</p> - -<p>'If need be.'</p> - -<p>Mr Davenant snorted.</p> - -<p>'Upon my word,' he cried sarcastically, 'you have -caught the emotional tone of Aphros to perfection. -I suppose you saw yourself holding Panaïoannou at -bay? If these are your ideas, I shall certainly support -Malteios in keeping you away. I am on the best of -terms with Malteios, and I cannot afford to allow your -Quixotism to upset the balance. I can obtain almost -any concession from Malteios,' he added thoughtfully, -narrowing his eyes and rubbing his hand across his -chin.</p> - -<p>Julian watched his father with distaste and antagonism.</p> - -<p>'And that is all you consider?' he said then.</p> - -<p>'What else is there to consider?' Mr Davenant replied. -'I am a practical man, and practical men don't run after -chimeras. I hope I'm not more cynical than most. -You know very well that at the bottom of my heart -I sympathise with the Islands. Come,' he said, with a -sudden assumption of frankness, seeing that he was -creating an undesirable rift between himself and his son, -'I will even admit to you, in confidence, that the -republic doesn't treat its Islands as well as it might. -You know, too, that I respect and admire Madame Kato;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> -she comes from the Islands, and has every right to hold -the views of an islander. But there's no reason why -you should espouse those views, Julian. We are -foreigners here, representatives of a great family -business, and that business, when all's said and done, -must always remain our first consideration.'</p> - -<p>'Yet people here say,' Julian argued, still hoping for -the best against the cold disillusionment creeping over -him, 'that no political move can be made without -allowing for your influence and Uncle Robert's. And -my grandfather, after all....'</p> - -<p>'Ah, your grandfather!' said Mr Davenant, 'your -grandfather was an extremely sagacious man, the real -founder of the family tradition, though I wouldn't like -Malteios to hear me say so. He knew well enough that -in the Islands he held a lever which gave him, if he -chose to use it, absolute control over Herakleion. He -only used it once, when he wanted something they -refused to give him; they held out against him for a -year, but ultimately they came to heel. A very sagacious -man.... Don't run away with the idea that he was -inspired by anything other than a most practical grasp—though -I don't say it wasn't a bold one—a most -practical grasp of the situation. He gave the politicians -of Herakleion a lesson they haven't yet forgotten.</p> - -<p>He paused, and, as Julian said nothing, added—</p> - -<p>'We keep very quiet, your uncle Robert and I, but -Malteios, and Stavridis himself, know that in reality -we hold them on a rope. We give them a lot of play, -but at any moment we choose, we can haul them in. -A very satisfactory arrangement. Tacit agreements, to -my mind, are always the most satisfactory. And so you -see that I can't tolerate your absurd, uneducated -interference. Why, there's no end to the harm you -might do! Some day you will thank me.'</p> - -<p>As Julian still said nothing, he looked at his son, who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> -was standing, staring at the floor, a deep frown on his -forehead, thunderous, unconvinced. Mr Davenant, being -habitually uncommunicative, felt aggrieved that his -explanatory condescension had not been received with -a more attentive deference. He also felt uneasy. -Julian's silences were always disquieting.</p> - -<p>'You are very young still,' he said, in a more conciliatory -tone, 'and I ought perhaps to blame myself for -allowing you to go about so freely in this very unreal -and bewildering place. Perhaps I ought not to have -expected you to keep your head. Malteios is quite -right: Herakleion is no place for a young man. Don't -think me hard in sending you away. Some day you will -come back with, I hope, a better understanding.'</p> - -<p>He rested his hand kindly for a moment on Julian's -shoulder, then turned away, and the light of his candle -died as he passed the bend of the stairs.</p> - -<p class="space-above">On the following evening Julian, returning from the -country-house where he had spent the day, was told -that the Premier was with Mr Davenant and would be -glad to see him.</p> - -<p>He had ridden out to the country, regardless of the -heat, turning instinctively to Eve in his strange and -rebellious frame of mind. For some reason which he -did not analyse, he identified her with Aphros—the -Aphros of romance and glamour to which he so obstinately -clung. To his surprise she listened unresponsive -and sulky.</p> - -<p>'You are not interested, Eve?'</p> - -<p>Then the reason of her unreasonableness broke out.</p> - -<p>'You have kept this from me for a whole week, and -you confide in me now because you know the story is -public property. You expect me to be interested. -Grand merci!'</p> - -<p>'But, Eve, I had pledged myself not to tell a soul.'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> -<p>'Did you tell Kato?'</p> - -<p>'Damn your intuition!' he said angrily.</p> - -<p>She lashed at him then, making him feel guilty, -miserable, ridiculous, though as he sat scowling over -the sea—they were in their favourite place at the bottom -of the garden, where under the pergola of gourds it was -cool even at that time of the day—he appeared to her -more than usually unmoved and forbidding.</p> - -<p>After a long pause,—</p> - -<p>'Julian, I am sorry.—I don't often apologise.—I said -I was sorry.'</p> - -<p>He looked coldly at her with his mournful eyes, that, -green in repose, turned black in anger.</p> - -<p>'Your vanity makes me ill.'</p> - -<p>'You told Kato.'</p> - -<p>'Jealousy!'</p> - -<p>She began to protest; then, with a sudden change of -front,—</p> - -<p>'You know I am jealous. When I am jealous, I lie -awake all night. I lose all sense of proportion. It's no -joke, my jealousy; it's like an open wound. I put -up a stockade round it to protect it. You are not -considerate.'</p> - -<p>'Can you never forget yourself? Do you care nothing -for the Islands? Are you so self-centred, so empty-headed? -Are all women, I wonder, as vain as you?'</p> - -<p>They sat on the parapet, angry, inimical, with the -coloured gourds hanging heavily over their heads.</p> - -<p>Far out to sea the Islands lay, so pure and fair and -delicate that Julian, beholding them, violently rejected -the idea that in this possession of such disarming loveliness -his grandfather had seen merely a lever for the -coercion of recalcitrant politicians. They lay there as -innocent and fragile as a lovely woman asleep, veiled by -the haze of sunshine as the sleeper's limbs by a garment -of lawn. Julian gazed till his eyes and his heart swam<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> -in the tenderness of passionate and protective ownership. -He warmed towards his grandfather, the man whose -generous ideals had been so cynically libelled by the -succeeding generation. No man deserving the name -could be guilty of so repulsive an act of prostitution....</p> - -<p>'They will see me here again,' he exclaimed, striking -his fist on the parapet.</p> - -<p>To the startled question in Eve's eyes he vouchsafed -an explanation.</p> - -<p>'Malteios is sending me away. But when his term of -office is over, I shall come back. It will be a good -opportunity. We will break with Herakleion over the -change of government. Kato will restrain Malteios so -long as he is in power, I can trust her; but I shall make -my break with Stavridis.'</p> - -<p>In his plans for the future he had again forgotten Eve.</p> - -<p>'You are going away?'</p> - -<p>'For a year or perhaps longer,' he said gloomily.</p> - -<p>Her natural instinct of defiant secrecy kept the flood -of protest back from her lips. Already in her surprisingly -definite philosophy of life, self-concealment held a -sacred and imperious position. Secrecy—and her -secrecy, because disguised under a superficial show of -expansiveness, was the more fundamental, the more -dangerous—secrecy she recognised as being both a -shield and a weapon. Therefore, already apprehending -that existence in a world of men was a fight, a struggle, -and a pursuit, she took refuge in her citadel. And, -being possessed of a picturesque imagination, she -had upon a certain solemn occasion carried a symbolic -key to the steps which led down to the sea from the end -of the pergola of gourds, and had flung it out as far as -she was able into the guardianship of the waters.</p> - -<p>She remembered this now as she sat on the parapet -with Julian, and smiled to herself ironically. She looked -at him with the eye of an artist, and thought how his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> -limbs, fallen into their natural grace of relaxed muscularity, -suggested the sculptural ease of stone far more -than the flat surfaces of canvas. Sculptural, she thought, -was undoubtedly the adjective which thrust itself upon -one. In one of her spasmodic outbursts of activity she -had modelled him, but, disdainful of her own talents, -had left the clay to perish. Then she remembered -acutely that she would not see him again.</p> - -<p>'My mythological Julian....' she murmured, smiling.</p> - -<p>A world of flattery lay in her tone.</p> - -<p>'You odd little thing,' he said, 'why the adjective?'</p> - -<p>She made an expressive gesture with her hands.</p> - -<p>'Your indifference, your determination—you're so -intractable, so contemptuous, so hard—and sometimes -so inspired. You're so fatally well suited to the Islands. -Prince of Aphros?' she launched at him insinuatingly.</p> - -<p>She was skilful; he flushed. She was giving him what -he had, half unconsciously, sought.</p> - -<p>'Siren!' he said.</p> - -<p>'Am I? Perhaps, after all, we are both equally well -suited to the Islands,' she said lightly.</p> - -<p>And for some reason their conversation dropped. -Yet it sufficed to send him, stimulated, from her side, -full of self-confidence; he had forgotten that she was -barely seventeen, a child! and for him the smile of -pride in her eyes had been the smile of Aphros.</p> - -<p>In the house, on his way through, he met Father Paul.</p> - -<p>'Everything is known,' said the priest, wringing his -hand with his usual energy.</p> - -<p>'What am I to do? Malteios wants me to leave -Herakleion. Shall I refuse? I am glad to have met -you,' said Julian, 'I was on my way to find you.'</p> - -<p>'Go, if Malteios wants you to go,' the priest replied, -'the time is not ripe yet; but are you determined, in -your own mind, to throw in your lot with Hagios -Zacharie? Remember, I cautioned you when we were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> -still on Aphros: you must be prepared for a complete -estrangement from your family. You will be running -with the hare, no longer hunting with the hounds. Have -you considered?'</p> - -<p>'I am with the Islands.'</p> - -<p>'Good,' said the priest, making a sign over him. 'Go, -all the same, if Malteios exacts it; you will be the more -of a man when you return. Malteios' party will surely -fall at the next elections. By then we shall be ready, -and I will see that you are summoned. God bless you.'</p> - -<p>'Will you go out to Eve in the garden, father? She -is under the pergola. Go and talk to her.'</p> - -<p>'She is unhappy?' asked the priest, with a sharp -look.</p> - -<p>'A little, I think,' said Julian, 'will you go?'</p> - -<p>'At once, at once,' said Paul, and he went quickly, -through the grove of lemon-trees, stumbling over his -soutane....</p> - -<p>Julian returned to Herakleion, where he found his -father and Malteios in the big frescoed drawing-room, -standing in an embrasure of the windows. The Premier's -face as he turned was full of tolerant benignity.</p> - -<p>'Ah, here is our young friend,' he began paternally. -'What are these stories I hear of you, young man? -I have been telling your father that when I was a schoolboy, -a <i>lycéen</i>—I, too, tried to meddle in politics. Take -my advice, and keep clear of these things till you are -older. There are many things for the young: dancing, -poetry, and love. Politics to the old and the middle-aged. -Of course, I know your little escapade was nothing -but a joke ... high spirits ... natural mischief....'</p> - -<p>The interview was galling and humiliating to Julian; -he disliked the Premier's bantering friendliness, through -which he was not sufficiently experienced to discern -the hidden mistrust, apprehension, and hostility. His -father, compelled to a secret and resentful pride in his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> -son, was conscious of these things. But Julian, his eyes -fixed on the middle button of the Premier's frock-coat, -sullen and rebellious, tried to shut his ears to the prolonged -murmur of urbane derision. He wished to look -down upon, to ignore Malteios, the unreal man, and this -he could not do while he allowed those smooth and -skilful words to flow unresisted in their suave cruelty -over his soul. He shut his ears, and felt only the -hardening of his determination. He would go; he -would leave Herakleion, only to return with increase -of strength in the hour of fulfilment.</p> - -<p>Dismissed, he set out for Kato's flat, hatless, in a mood -of thunder. His violence was not entirely genuine, but -he persuaded himself, for he had lately been with Eve, -and the plausible influence of Herakleion was upon him. -He strode down the street, aware that people turned to -gaze at him as he went. On the quay, the immense -Grbits rose suddenly up from the little green table where -he sat drinking vermouth outside a café.</p> - -<p>'My young friend,' he said, 'they tell me you are -leaving Herakleion?</p> - -<p>'They are wise,' he boomed. 'You would break their -toys if you remained. But <i>I</i> remain; shall I watch for -you? You will come back? I have hated the Greeks -well. Shall we play a game with them? ha! ha!'</p> - -<p>His huge laugh reverberated down the quay as Julian -passed on, looking at the visiting card which the giant -had just handed to him:—</p> - -<p class="center">SRGJÁN GRBITS.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Attaché à la Légation de S.M. le Roi des Serbes,<br /> -Croates, et Slovènes.</i></p> - -<p>'Grbits my spy!' he was thinking. 'Fantastic, -fantastic.'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> -<p>Kato's flat was at the top of a four-storied house on -the quay. On the ground floor of the house was a cake-shop, -and, like every other house along the sea-front, -over every window hung a gay, striped sunblind that -billowed slightly like a flag in the breeze from the sea. -Inside the cake-shop a number of Levantines, dressed -in their hot black, were eating sweet things off the -marble counter. Julian could never get Eve past the -cake-shop when they went to Kato's together; she would -always wander in to eat <i>choux à la crème</i>, licking the -whipped cream off her fingers with a guilty air until he -lent her his handkerchief, her own being invariably lost.</p> - -<p>Julian went into the house by a side-door, up the -steep narrow stairs, the walls painted in Pompeian -red with a slate-coloured dado; past the first floor, -where on two frosted glass doors ran the inscription: -KONINKLIJKE NEDERLANDSCHE STOOMBOOT-MAATSCHAPPIJ; -past the second floor, where a -brass plate said: Th. Mavrudis et fils, Cie. d'assurance; -past the third floor, where old Grigoriu, the money-lender, -was letting himself in by a latchkey; to the -fourth floor, where a woman in the native dress of the -Islands admitted him to Kato's flat.</p> - -<p>The singer was seated on one of her low, carpet-covered -divans, her throat and arms, as usual, bare, -the latter covered with innumerable bangles; her knees -wide apart and a hand placed resolutely upon each knee; -before her stood Tsigaridis, the headman of Aphros, his -powerful body encased in the blue English jersey Mrs -Davenant had given him, and from the compression of -which his pleated skirt sprang out so ridiculously. -Beside Kato on the divan lay a basket of ripe figs which -he had brought her. Their two massive figures disproportionately -filled the already overcrowded little -room.</p> - -<p>They regarded Julian gravely.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> - -<p>'I am going away,' he said, standing still before their -scrutiny, as a pupil before his preceptors.</p> - -<p>Kato bowed her head. They knew. They had -discussed whether they should let him go, and had -decided that he might be absent from Herakleion until -the next elections.</p> - -<p>'But you will return, Kyrie?'</p> - -<p>Tsigaridis spoke respectfully, but with urgent authority, -much in the tone a regent might adopt towards a youthful -king.</p> - -<p>'Of course I shall return,' Julian answered, and smiled -and added, 'You mustn't lose faith, Tsantilas.'</p> - -<p>The fisherman bowed with that dignity he inherited -from unnamed but remotely ascending generations; he -took his leave of Kato and the boy, shutting the door -quietly behind him. Kato came up to Julian, who had -turned away and was staring out of the window. From -the height of this fourth story one looked down upon -the peopled quay below, and saw distinctly the houses -upon the distant Islands.</p> - -<p>'You are sad,' she said.</p> - -<p>She moved to the piano, which, like herself, was a -great deal too big for the room, and which alone of all -the pieces of furniture was not loaded with ornaments. -Julian had often wondered, looking at the large expanse -of lid, how Kato had so consistently resisted the temptation -to put things upon it. The most he had ever seen -there was a gilt basket of hydrangeas, tied with a blue -ribbon, from which hung the card of the Premier.</p> - -<p>He knew that within twenty-four hours he would be -at sea, and that Herakleion as he would last have seen it—from -the deck of the steamer, white, with many -coloured sunblinds, and, behind it, Mount Mylassa, rising -so suddenly, so threateningly, seemingly determined -to crowd the man-built town off its narrow strip of -coast into the water—Herakleion, so pictured, would be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> -but a memory; within a week, he knew, he would be in -England. He did not know when he would see Herakleion -again. Therefore he abandoned himself, on this -last evening, to Aphros, to the memory of Eve, and to -romance, not naming, not linking the three that took -possession of and coloured all the daylight of his youth, -but quiescent, sitting on the floor, his knees clasped, and -approaching again, this time in spirit, the island where -the foam broke round the foot of the rocks and the -fleet of little fishing-boats swayed like resting seagulls -in the harbour. He scarcely noticed that, all this while, -Kato was singing. She sang in a very low voice, as -though she were singing a lullaby, and, though the words -did not reach his consciousness, he knew that the walls -of the room had melted into the warm and scented -freedom of the terraces on Aphros when the vintage -was at its height, and when the air, in the evening, was -heavy with the smell of the grape. He felt Eve's fingers -lightly upon his brows. He saw again her shadowy gray -eyes, red mouth, and waving hair. He visualised the -sparkle that crept into her eyes—strange eyes they -were! deep-set, slanting slightly upwards, so ironical -sometimes, and sometimes so inexplicably sad—when -she was about to launch one of her more caustic and just -remarks. How illuminating her remarks could be! -they always threw a new light; but she never insisted -on their value; on the contrary, she passed carelessly -on to something else. But whatever she touched, she -lit.... One came to her with the expectation of being -stimulated, perhaps a little bewildered, and one was not -disappointed. He recalled her so vividly—yet recollection -of her could never be really vivid; the construction -of her personality was too subtle, too varied; as soon as -one had left her one wanted to go back to her, thinking -that this time, perhaps, one would succeed better in -seizing and imprisoning the secret of her elusiveness.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> -Julian caught himself smiling dreamily as he conjured -her up. He heard the murmur of her seductive voice,—</p> - -<p>'I love you, Julian.'</p> - -<p>He accepted the words, which he had heard often -from her lips, dreamily as part of his last, deliberate -evening, so losing himself in his dreams that he almost -failed to notice when the music died and the notes of -Kato's voice slid from the recitative of her peasant songs -into conversation with himself. She left the music-stool -and came towards him where he sat on the floor.</p> - -<p>'Julian,' she said, looking down at him, 'your cousin -Eve, who is full of perception, says you are so primitive -that the very furniture is irksome to you and that you -dispense with it as far as you can. I know you prefer -the ground to a sofa.'</p> - -<p>He became shy, as he instantly did when the topic -of his own personality was introduced. He felt dimly -that Eve, who remorselessly dragged him from the woods -into the glare of sunlight, alone had the privilege. At -the same time he recognised her methods of appropriating -a characteristic, insignificant in itself, and of building -it up, touching it with her own peculiar grace and humour -until it became a true and delicate attribute, growing -into life thanks to her christening of it; a method truly -feminine, exquisitely complimentary, carrying with it an -insinuation faintly exciting, and creating a link quite -separately personal, an understanding, almost an obligation -to prove oneself true to her conception....</p> - -<p>'So you are leaving us?' said Kato, 'you are going to -live among other standards, other influences, "<i>dont je -ne connais point la puissance sur votre cœur</i>." How soon -will it be before you forget? And how soon before you -return? We want you here, Julian.'</p> - -<p>'For the Islands?' he asked.</p> - -<p>'For the Islands, and may I not say,' said Kato, -spreading her hands with a musical clinking of all her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> -bangles, 'for ourselves also? How soon will it be before -you forget the Islands?' she forced herself to ask, and -then, relapsing, 'Which will fade first in your memory, -I wonder—the Islands? or Kato?'</p> - -<p>'I can't separate you in my mind,' he said, faintly -ill at ease.</p> - -<p>'It is true that we have talked of them by the hour,' -she answered, 'have we talked of them so much that -they and I are entirely identified? Do you pay me the -compliment of denying me the mean existence of an -ordinary woman?'</p> - -<p>He thought that by answering in the affirmative he -would indeed be paying her the greatest compliment -that lay within his power, for he would be raising her to -the status of a man and a comrade. He said,—</p> - -<p>'I never believed, before I met you, that a woman -could devote herself so whole-heartedly to her patriotism. -We have the Islands in common between us; and, -as you know, the Islands mean more than mere Islands -to me: a great many things to which I could never give -a name. And I am glad, yes, so glad, that our friendship -has been, in a way, so impersonal—as though I were your -disciple, and this flat my secret school, from which you -should one day discharge me, saying "Go!"'</p> - -<p>Never had he appeared to her so hopelessly inaccessible -as now when he laid his admiration, his almost religious -idealisation of her at her feet.</p> - -<p>He went on,—</p> - -<p>'You have been so infinitely good to me; I have come -here so often, I have talked so much; I have often felt, -when I went away, that you, who were accustomed to -clever men, must naturally....'</p> - -<p>'Why not say,' she interrupted, 'instead of "clever -men," "men of my own age? my own generation"?'</p> - -<p>He looked at her doubtfully, checked. She was -standing over him, her hands on her hips, and he noticed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> -the tight circles of fat round her bent wrists, and the -dimples in every joint of her stumpy hands.</p> - -<p>'But why apologise?' she added, taking pity on his -embarrassment, with a smile both forgiving and rueful -for the ill she had brought upon herself. 'If you have -enjoyed our talks, be assured I have enjoyed them too. -For conversations to be as successful as ours have been, -the enjoyment cannot possibly be one-sided. I shall -miss them when you are gone. You go to England?'</p> - -<p>After a moment she said,—</p> - -<p>'Isn't it strange, when those we know so intimately -in one place travel away to another place in which we -have never seen them? What do I, Kato, know of the -houses you will live in in England, or of your English -friends? as some poet speaks, in a line I quoted to you -just now, of all the influences <i>dont je ne connais pas la -puissance sur votre cœur</i>! Perhaps you will even fall -in love. Perhaps you will tell this imaginary woman -with whom you are to fall in love, about our Islands?'</p> - -<p>'No woman but you would understand,' he said.</p> - -<p>'She would listen for your sake, and for your sake -she would pretend interest. Does Eve listen when you -talk about the Islands?'</p> - -<p>'Eve doesn't care about such things. I sometimes -think she cares only about herself,' he replied with some -impatience.</p> - -<p>'You ...' she began again, but, checking herself, -she said instead, with a grave irony that was lost upon -him, 'You have flattered me greatly to-day, Julian. -I hope you may always find in me a wise preceptor. -But I can only point the way. The accomplishment lies -with you. We will work together?' She added, smiling, -'In the realms of the impersonal? A philosophic friendship? -A Platonic alliance?'</p> - -<p>When he left her, she was still, gallantly, smiling.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> - -<h2>PART II—EVE</h2> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> - -<h2>I</h2> - -<p>After spending nearly two years in exile, Julian was -once more upon his way to Herakleion.</p> - -<p>On deck, brooding upon a great coil of rope, his head -bare to the winds, absorbed and concentrated, he -disregarded all his surroundings in favour of the ever -equi-distant horizon. He seemed to be entranced by its -promise. He seemed, moreover, to form part of the -ship on which he travelled; part of it, crouching as he -did always at the prow, as a figurehead forms part; -part of the adventure, the winged gallantry, the eager -onward spirit indissoluble from the voyage of a ship in -the midst of waters from which no land is visible. The -loneliness—for there is no loneliness to equal the loneliness -of the sea—the strife of the wind, the generosity of -the expanse, the pure cleanliness of the nights and days, -met and matched his mood. At moments, feeling himself -unconquerable, he tasted the full, rare, glory of youth -and anticipation. He did not know which he preferred: -the days full of sunlight on the wide blue sea, or the -nights when the breeze was fresher against his face, and -the road more mysterious, under a young moon that lit -the ridges of the waves and travelled slowly past, overhead, -across the long black lines of cordage and rigging. -He knew only that he was happy as he had never been -happy in his life.</p> - -<p>His fellow-passengers had watched him when he -joined the ship at Brindisi, and a murmur had run -amongst them, 'Julian Davenant—son of those rich -Davenants of Herakleion, you know—great wine-growers—they -own a whole archipelago'; some one had -disseminated the information even as Julian came up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> -the gangway, in faded old gray flannels, hatless, in a -rage with his porter, who appeared to be terrified out of -all proportion. Then, suddenly, he had lost all interest -in his luggage, tossed some money to the porter, and, -walking for'ard, had thrown himself down on the heap -of ropes and stared straight in front of him to sea, -straining his eyes forward to where Greece might lie.</p> - -<p>From here he had scarcely stirred. The people who -watched him, benevolent and amused, thought him very -young. They saw that he relieved the intensity of his -vigil with absurd and childlike games that he played by -himself, hiding and springing out at the sailors, and -laughing immoderately when he had succeeded in -startling them—he fraternised with the sailors, though -with no one else—or when he saw somebody trip over a -ring in the deck. His humour, like his body, seemed to -be built on large and simple lines.... In the mornings -he ran round and round the decks in rubber-soled shoes. -Then again he flung himself down and continued with -unseeing eyes to stare at the curve of the horizon.</p> - -<p>Not wholly by design, he had remained absent from -Herakleion for nearly two years. The standards and -systems of life on that remote and beautiful seaboard -had not faded for him, this time, with their usual -astonishing rapidity; he had rather laid them aside -carefully and deliberately, classified against the hour -when he should take them from their wrappings; he -postponed the consideration of the mission which had -presented itself to him, and crushed down the recollection -of what had been, perhaps, the most intoxicating -of all moments—more intoxicating even, because more -unexpected, than the insidious flattery of Eve—the -moment when Paul had said to him beneath the -fragmentary frescoes of the life of Saint Benedict, in a -surprised voice, forced into admission,—</p> - -<p>'You have the quality of leadership. You have it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> -You have the secret. The people will fawn to the hand -that chastens.'</p> - -<p>Paul, his tutor and preceptor, from whom he had -first learnt, so imperceptibly that he scarcely recognised -the teaching as a lesson, of the Islands and their problems -both human and political, Paul had spoken these words -to him, renouncing the authority of the master, stepping -aside to admit the accession of the pupil. From the -position of a regent, he had abased himself to that of a -Prime Minister. Julian had accepted the acknowledgement -with a momentary dizziness. In later moments -of doubt, the words had flamed for him, bright with -reassurance. And then he had banished them with the -rest. That world of romance had been replaced by the -world of healthy and prosaic things. The letters he -periodically received from Eve irritated him because of -their reminder of an existence he preferred to regard, -for the moment, as in abeyance.</p> - -<blockquote><p>'And so you are gone: <i>veni, vidi, vici</i>. You were well -started on your career of devastation! You hadn't done -badly, all things considered. Herakleion has heaved an -"Ouf!" of relief. You, unimpressionable? <i>Allons donc!</i> -You, apathetic? You, placid, unemotional, unawakened? -<i>Tu te payes ma tête!</i></p> - -<p>'Ah, the limitless ambition I have for you!</p> - -<p>'I want you to rule, conquer, shatter, demolish.</p> - -<p>'Haul down the simpering gods, the pampered gods, and -put yourself in their place. It is in your power.</p> - -<p>'Why not? You have <i>le feu sacré</i>. Stagnation is death, -death. Burn their temples with fire, and trample their -altars to dust.'</p></blockquote> - -<p>This letter, scrawled in pencil on a sheet of torn -foolscap, followed him to England immediately after -his departure. Then a silence of six months. Then he -read, written on spacious yellow writing-paper, with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> -the monogram E.D. embossed in a triangle of mother-of-pearl, -vivid and extravagant as Eve herself—</p> - -<blockquote><p>They are trying to catch me, Julian! I come quite -near, quite near, and they hold very quiet their hand with -the crumbs in it. I see the other hand stealing round to -close upon me—then there's a flutter—<i>un battement d'ailes—l'oiseau -s'est de nouveau dérobé!</i> They remain gazing -after me, with their mouths wide open. They look so -silly. And they haven't robbed me of one plume—not a -single plume.</p> - -<p>'Julian! Why this mania for capture? this wanting to -take from me my most treasured possession—liberty? -When I want to give, I'll give freely—largesse with both -hands, showers of gold and flowers and precious stones—(don't -say I'm not conceited!) but I'll never give my liberty, -and I'll never allow it to be forced away from me. I should -feel a traitor. I couldn't walk through a forest and hear -the wind in the trees. I couldn't listen to music. (Ah, -Julian! This afternoon I steeped myself in music; Grieg, -elf-like, mischievous, imaginative, romantic, so Latin sometimes -in spite of his Northern blood. You would love Grieg, -Julian. In the fairyland of music, Grieg plays gnome to -Debussy's magician.... Then "Khovantchina," of all -music the most sublime, the most perverse, the most -<i>bariolé</i>, the most abandoned, and the most desolate.) -I could have no comradeship with a free and inspired -company. I should have betrayed their secrets, bartered -away their mysteries....'</p></blockquote> - -<p>He had wondered then whether she were happy. He -had visualised her, turbulent, defiant; courting danger -and then childishly frightened when danger overtook -her; deliciously forthcoming, inventive, enthusiastic, but -always at heart withdrawn; she expressed herself truly -when she said that the bird fluttered away from the -hand that would have closed over it. He knew that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> -she lived constantly, from choice, in a storm of trouble -and excitement. Yet he read between the lines of her -letters a certain dissatisfaction, a straining after something -as yet unattained. He knew that her heart was -not in what she described as 'my little round of complacent -amourettes.'</p> - -<p>The phrase had awoken him with a smile of amusement -to the fact that she was no longer a child. He felt -some curiosity to see her again under the altered and -advanced conditions of her life, yet, lazy and diffident, -he shrank from the storm of adventure and responsibility -which he knew would at once assail him. The -indolence he felt sprang largely from the certainty that -he could, at any moment of his choice, stretch out -his hand to gather up again the threads that he had -relinquished. He had surveyed Herakleion, that other -world, from the distance and security of England. He -had the conviction that it awaited him, and this conviction -bore with it a strangely proprietary sense in which -Eve was included. He had listened with amusement and -tolerance to the accounts of her exploits, his sleepy eyes -bent upon his informant with a quiet patience, as a man -who listens to a familiar recital. He had dwelt very -often upon the possibility of his return to Herakleion, -but, without a full or even a partial knowledge of his -motives, postponed it. Yet all the while his life was a -service, a dedication.</p> - -<p>Then the letters which he received began to mention -the forthcoming elections; a faint stir of excitement -pervaded his correspondence; Eve, detesting politics, -made no reference, but his father's rare notes betrayed -an impatient and irritable anxiety; the indications grew, -culminating in a darkly allusive letter which, although -anonymous, he took to be from Grbits, and finally in -a document which was a triumph of illiterate dignity, -signed by Kato, Tsigaridis, Zapantiotis, and a double<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> -column of names that broke like a flight of exotic birds -into the mellow enclosure of the Cathedral garden where -it found him.</p> - -<p>Conscious of his ripened and protracted strength, he -took ship for Greece.</p> - -<p>He had sent no word to announce his coming. A -sardonic smile lifted one corner of his mouth as he foresaw -the satisfaction of taking Eve by surprise. A -standing joke between them (discovered and created, of -course, by her, the inventive) was the invariable unexpectedness -of his arrivals. He would find her altered, -grown. An unreasoning fury possessed him, a jealous -rage, not directed against any human being, but against -Time itself, that it should lay hands upon Eve, his Eve, -during his absence; taking, as it were, advantage while -his back was turned. And though he had often professed -to himself a lazy indifference to her devotion to him, -Julian, he found intolerable the thought that that -devotion might have been transferred elsewhere. He -rose and strode thunderously down the deck, and one -of his fellow-travellers, watching, whistled to himself -and thought,—</p> - -<p>'That boy has an ugly temper.'</p> - -<p class="space-above">Then the voyage became a dream to Julian; tiny -islands, quite rosy in the sunlight, stained the sea here -and there only a few miles distant, and along the green -sea the ship drew a white, lacy wake, broad and straight, -that ever closed behind her like an obliterated path, -leaving the way of retreat trackless and unavailable. -One day he realised that the long, mountainous line -which he had taken for a cloud-bank, was in point of -fact the coast. That evening, a sailor told him, they -were due to make Herakleion. He grew resentful of the -apathy of passengers and crew. The coast-line became -more and more distinct. Presently they were passing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> -Aphros, and only eight miles lay between the ship and -the shore. The foam that gave it its name was breaking -upon the rocks of the island....</p> - -<p>After that a gap occurred in his memory, and the -scene slipped suddenly to the big frescoed drawing-room -of his father's house in the <i>platia</i>, where the peace and -anticipation of his voyage were replaced by the gaiety -of voices, the blatancy of lights, and the strident energy -of three violins and a piano. He had walked up from -the pier after the innumerable delays of landing; it was -then eleven o'clock at night, and as he crossed the <i>platia</i> -and heard the music coming from the lighted and open -windows of his father's house, he paused in the shadows, -aware of the life that had gone on for over a year without -him.</p> - -<p>'And why is that surprising? I'm an astounding -egotist,' he muttered.</p> - -<p>He was still in his habitual gray flannels, but he would -not go to his room to change. He was standing in the -doorway of the drawing-room on the first floor, smiling -gently at finding himself still unnoticed, and looking for -Eve. She was sitting at the far end of the room between -two men, and behind her the painted monkeys grimaced -on the wall, swinging by hands and tails from the -branches of the unconvincing trees. He saw her as -seated in the midst of that ethereal and romantic landscape.</p> - -<p>Skirting the walls, he made his way round to her, and -in the angle he paused, and observed her. She was -unconscious of his presence. Young Christopoulos bent -towards her, and she was smiling into his eyes.... -In eighteen months she had perfected her art.</p> - -<p>Julian drew nearer, critically, possessively, and -sarcastically observing her still, swift to grasp the -essential difference. She, who had been a child when -he had left her, was now a woman. The strangeness of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> -her face had come to its own in the fullness of years, -and the provocative mystery of her person, that withheld -even more than it betrayed, now justified itself -likewise. There seemed to be a reason for the red lips -and ironical eyes that had been so incongruous, so almost -offensive, in the face of the child. An immense fan of -orange feathers drooped from her hand. Her hair waved -turbulently round her brows, and seemed to cast a -shadow over her eyes.</p> - -<p>He stood suddenly before her.</p> - -<p>For an instant she gazed up at him, her lips parted, -her breath arrested. He laughed easily, pleased to have -bettered her at her own game of melodrama. He saw -that she was really at a loss, clutching at her wits, at -her recollection of him, trying desperately to fling a -bridge across the gulf of those momentous months. She -floundered helplessly in the abrupt renewal of their -relations. Seeing this, he felt an arrogant exhilaration -at the discomfiture which he had produced. She had -awoken in him, without a word spoken, the tyrannical -spirit of conquest which she induced in all men.</p> - -<p>Then she was saved by the intervention of the room; -first by Christopoulos shaking Julian's hand, then by -dancers crowding round with exclamations of welcome -and surprise. Mr Davenant himself was brought, and -Julian stood confused and smiling, but almost silent, -among the volubility of the guests. He was providing -a sensation for lives greedy of sensation. He heard -Madame Lafarge, smiling benevolently at him behind -her lorgnon, say to Don Rodrigo Valdez,—</p> - -<p>'<i>C'est un original que ce garçon.</i>'</p> - -<p>They were all there, futile and vociferous. The few -new-comers were left painfully out in the cold. They -were all there: the fat Danish Excellency, her yellow -hair fuzzing round her pink face; Condesa Valdez, -painted like a courtesan; Armand, languid, with his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> -magnolia-like complexion; Madame Delahaye, enterprising -and equivocal; Julie Lafarge, thin and brown, -timidly smiling; Panaïoannou in his sky-blue uniform; -the four sisters Christopoulos, well to the front. These, -and all the others. He felt that, at whatever moment -during the last eighteen months he had timed his return, -he would have found them just the same, complete, none -missing, the same words upon their lips. He accepted -them now, since he had surrendered to Herakleion, but -as for their reality as human beings, with the possible -exceptions of Grbits the giant, crashing his way to -Julian through people like an elephant pushing through -a forest, and of the Persian Minister, hovering on the -outskirts of the group with the gentle smile still playing -round his mouth, they might as well have been cut out -of cardboard. Eve had gone; he could see her nowhere. -Alexander, presumably, had gone with her.</p> - -<p>Captured at last by the Danish Excellency, Julian had -a stream of gossip poured into his ears. He had been -in exile for so long, he must be thirsty for news. A new -English Minister had arrived, but he was said to be -unsociable. He had been expected at the races on the -previous Sunday, but had failed to put in an appearance. -Armand had had an affair with Madame Delahaye. At -a dinner-party last week, Rafaele, the Councillor of the -Italian Legation, had not been given his proper place. -The Russian Minister, who was the doyen of the <i>corps -diplomatique</i>, had promised to look into the matter with -the Chef du Protocole. Once etiquette was allowed to -become lax.... The season had been very gay. -Comparatively few political troubles. She disliked -political troubles. She—confidentially—preferred personalities. -But then she was only a woman, and foolish. -She knew that she was foolish. But she had a good -heart. She was not clever, like his cousin Eve.</p> - -<p>Eve? A note of hostility and reserve crept into her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> -expansiveness. Eve was, of course, very charming, -though not beautiful. She could not be called beautiful; -her mouth was too large and too red. It was almost -improper to have so red a mouth; not quite <i>comme il -faut</i> in so young a girl. Still, she was undeniably -successful. Men liked to be amused, and Eve, when she -was not sulky, could be very amusing. Her imitations -were proverbial in Herakleion. Imitation was, however, -an unkindly form of entertainment. It was perhaps a -pity that Eve was so <i>moqueuse</i>. Nothing was sacred to -her, not even things which were really beautiful and -touching—patriotism, or moonlight, or art—even Greek -art. It was not that she, Mabel Thyregod, disapproved -of wit; she had even some small reputation for wit -herself; no; but she held that there were certain subjects -to which the application of wit was unsuitable. Love, -for instance. Love was the most beautiful, the most -sacred thing upon earth, yet Eve—a child, a chit—had -no veneration either for love in the abstract or for its -devotees in the flesh. She wasted the love that was -offered her. She could have no heart, no temperament. -She was perhaps fortunate. She, Mabel Thyregod, had -always suffered from having too warm a temperament.</p> - -<p>A struggle ensued between them, Fru Thyregod trying -to force the personal note, and Julian opposing himself to -its intrusion. He liked her too much to respond to her -blatant advances. He wondered, with a brotherly -interest, whether Eve were less crude in her methods.</p> - -<p>The thought of Eve sent him instantly in her pursuit, -leaving Fru Thyregod very much astonished and annoyed -in the ball-room. He found Eve with a man he did not -know sitting in her father's business-room. She was -lying back in a chair, listless and absent-minded, while -her companion argued with vehemence and exasperation. -She exclaimed,—</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> -<p>'Julian again! another surprise appearance! Have -you been wearing a cap of invisibility?'</p> - -<p>Seeing that her companion remained silent in uncertainty, -she murmured an introduction,—</p> - -<p>'Do you know my cousin Julian? Prince Ardalion -Miloradovitch.'</p> - -<p>The Russian bowed with a bad grace, seeing that he -must yield his place to Julian. When he had gone, -unwillingly tactful and full of resentment, she twitted -her cousin,—</p> - -<p>'Implacable as always, when you want your own way! -I notice you have neither outgrown your tyrannical -selfishness nor left it behind in England.'</p> - -<p>'I have never seen that man before; who is he?'</p> - -<p>'A Russian. Not unattractive. I am engaged to him,' -she replied negligently.</p> - -<p>'You are going to marry him?'</p> - -<p>She shrugged.</p> - -<p>'Perhaps, ultimately. More probably not.'</p> - -<p>'And what will he do if you throw him over?' Julian -asked with a certain curiosity.</p> - -<p>'Oh, he has a fine <i>je-m'en-fichisme</i>; he'll shrug his -shoulders, kiss the tips of my fingers, and die gambling,' -she answered.</p> - -<p>When Eve said that, Julian thought that he saw the -whole of Miloradovitch, whom he did not know, quite -clearly; she had lit him up.</p> - -<p>They talked then of a great many things, extraneous -to themselves, but all the while they observed one -another narrowly. She found nothing actually new in -him, only an immense development along the old, careless, -impersonal lines. In appearance he was as untidy -as ever; large, slack-limbed, rough-headed. He, however, -found much that was new in her; new, that is, to -his more experienced observation, but which, hitherto, -in its latent form had slept undiscovered by his boyish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> -eyes. His roaming glance took in the deliberate poise -and provocative aloofness of her self-possession, the -warm roundness of her throat and arms, the little -<i>mouche</i> at the corner of her mouth, her little graceful -hands, and white skin that here and there, in the -shadows, gleamed faintly gold, as though a veneer of -amber had been brushed over the white; the pervading -sensuousness that glowed from her like the actual -warmth of a slumbering fire. He found himself banishing -the thought of Miloradovitch....</p> - -<p>'Have you changed?' he said abruptly. 'Look at -me.'</p> - -<p>She raised her eyes, with the assurance of one well-accustomed -to personal remarks; a slow smile crept -over her lips.</p> - -<p>'Well, your verdict?'</p> - -<p>'You are older, and your hair is brushed back.'</p> - -<p>'Is that all?'</p> - -<p>'Do you expect me to say that you are pretty?'</p> - -<p>'Oh, no,' she said, snapping her fingers, 'I never -expect compliments from you, Julian. On the other -hand, let me pay you one. Your arrival, this evening, -has been a triumph. Most artistic. Let me congratulate -you. You know of old that I dislike being taken by -surprise.'</p> - -<p>'That's why I do it.'</p> - -<p>'I know,' she said, with sudden humility, the -marvellous organ of her voice sinking surprisingly -into the rich luxuriance of its most sombre contralto.</p> - -<p>He noted with a fresh enjoyment the deep tones that -broke like a honeyed caress upon his unaccustomed ear. -His imagination bore him away upon a flight of images -that left him startled by their emphasis no less than -by their fantasy. A cloak of black velvet, he thought -to himself, as he continued to gaze unseeingly at her; -a dusky voice, a gipsy among voices! the purple ripeness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> -of a plum; the curve of a Southern cheek; the heart of -red wine. All things seductive and insinuating. It -matched her soft indolence, her exquisite subtlety, her -slow, ironical smile.</p> - -<p>'Your delicious vanity,' he said unexpectedly, and, -putting out his hand he touched the hanging fold of -silver net which was bound by a silver ribbon round one -of her slender wrists.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> - -<h2>II</h2> - -<p>Herakleion. The white town. The sun. The -precipitate coast, and Mount Mylassa soaring into the -sky. The distant slope of Greece. The low islands lying -out in the jewelled sea. The diplomatic round, the -calculations of gain, the continuous and plaintive music -of the Islands, the dream of rescue, the ardent championship -of the feebler cause, the strife against wealth and -authority. The whole fabric of youth.... These were -the things abruptly rediscovered and renewed.</p> - -<p>The elections were to take place within four days of -Julian's arrival. Father Paul, no doubt, could add to -the store of information Kato had already given him. -But Father Paul was not to be found in the little tavern -he kept in the untidy village close to the gates of the -Davenants' country house. Julian reined up before it, -reading the familiar name, Xenodochion Olympos, -above the door, and calling out to the men who were -playing bowls along the little gravelled bowling alley -to know where he might find the priest. They could not -tell him, nor could the old islander Tsigaridis, who sat -near the door, smoking a cigar, and dribbling between -his fingers the beads of a bright green rosary.</p> - -<p>'The <i>papá</i> is often absent from us,' added Tsigaridis, -and Julian caught the grave inflection of criticism in his -tone.</p> - -<p>The somnolent heat of the September afternoon lay -over the squalid dusty village; in the whole length of its -street no life stirred; the dogs slept; the pale pink and -blue houses were closely shuttered, with an effect of -flatness and desertion. Against the pink front of the -tavern splashed the shadows of a great fig-tree, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> -upon its threshold, but on one side the tree had been -cut back to prevent any shadows from falling across the -bowling-alley. Julian rode on, enervated by the too -intense heat and the glare, and, giving up his horse at -his uncle's stables, wandered in the shade under the -pergola of gourds at the bottom of the garden.</p> - -<p>He saw Father Paul coming towards him across the -grass between the lemon-trees; the priest walked slowly, -his head bent, his hands clasped behind his back, a spare -black figure among the golden fruit. So lean, so lank -he appeared, his natural height accentuated by his -square black cap; so sallow his bony face in contrast to -his stringy red hair. Julian likened him to a long note -of exclamation. He advanced unaware of Julian's -presence, walking as though every shuffling step of his -flat, broad-toed shoes were an accompaniment to some -laborious and completed thought.</p> - -<p>'Perhaps,' Julian reflected, watching him, 'by -the time he reaches me he'll have arrived at his -decision.'</p> - -<p>He speculated amusedly as to the priest's difficulties: -an insurgent member of the flock? a necessary repair -to the church? Nothing, nothing outside Herakleion. -A tiny life! A priest, a man who had forsworn man's -birthright. The visible in exchange for the invisible -world. A life concentrated and intense; tight-handed, -a round little ball of a life. No range, no freedom. -Village life under a microscope; familiar faces and -familiar souls. Julian seemed to focus suddenly the rays -of the whole world into a spot of light which was the -village, and over which the priest's thin face was bent -poring with a close, a strained expression of absorption, -so that his benevolent purpose became almost a force of -evil, prying and inquisitive, and from which the souls -under his charge strove to writhe away in vain. To -break the image, he called out aloud,—</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> -<p>'You were very deeply immersed in your thoughts, -father?'</p> - -<p>'Yes, yes,' Paul muttered. He took out his handkerchief -to pass it over his face, which Julian now saw -with surprise was touched into high lights by a thin -perspiration.</p> - -<p>'Is anything wrong?' he asked.</p> - -<p>'Nothing wrong. Your father is very generous,' the -priest added irrelevantly.</p> - -<p>Julian, still under the spell, inquired as to his father's -generosity.</p> - -<p>'He has promised me a new iconostase,' said Paul, but -he spoke from an immense distance, vagueness in his -eyes, and with a trained, obedient tongue. 'The old -iconostase is in a disgraceful state of dilapidation,' he -continued, with a new, uncanny energy; 'when we -cleaned out the panels we found them hung with bats -at the back, and not only bats, but, do you know, Julian, -the mice had nested there; the mice are a terrible -plague in the church. I am obliged to keep the consecrated -bread in a biscuit tin, and I do not like doing -that; I like to keep it covered over with a linen cloth; -but no, I cannot, all on account of the mice. I have set -traps, and I had got a cat, but since she caught her foot -in one of the traps she has gone away. I am having great -trouble, great trouble with the mice.'</p> - -<p>'I know,' said Julian, 'I used to have mice in my -rooms at Oxford.'</p> - -<p>'A plague!' cried Paul, still fiercely energetic, but -utterly remote. 'One would wonder, if one were -permitted to wonder, why He saw fit to create mice. -I never caught any in my traps; only the cat's foot. -And the boy who cleans the church ate the cheese. I -have been very unfortunate—very unfortunate with -the mice,' he added.</p> - -<p>Would they never succeed in getting away from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> -topic? The garden was populated with mice, quick -little gray objects darting across the path. And Paul, -who continued to talk vehemently, with strange, abrupt -gestures, was not really there at all.</p> - -<p>'Nearly two years since you have been away,' he was -saying. 'I expect you have seen a great deal; forgotten -all about Paul? How do you find your father? Many -people have died in the village; that was to be expected. -I have been kept busy, funerals and christenings. I like -a full life. And then I have the constant preoccupation -of the church; the church, yes. I have been terribly -concerned about the iconostase. I have blamed myself -bitterly for my negligence. That, of course, was all due -to the mice. A man was drowned off these rocks last -week; a stranger. They say he had been losing in the -casino. I have been into Herakleion once or twice, -since you have been away. But it is too noisy. The -trams, and the glare.... It would not seem noisy to -you. You no doubt welcome the music of the world. -You are young, and life for you contains no problems. -But I am very happy; I should not like you to think I -was not perfectly happy. Your father and your uncle -are peculiarly considerate and generous men. Your -uncle has promised to pay for the installation of -the new iconostase and the removal of the old -one. I forgot to tell you that. Completely perished, -some of the panels.... And your aunt, a wonderful -woman.'</p> - -<p>Julian listened in amazement. The priest talked like -a wound-up and crazy machine, and all the while Julian -was convinced that he did not know a word he was -saying. He had once been grave, earnest, scholarly, -even wise.... He kept taking off and putting on his -cap, to the wild disordering of his long hair.</p> - -<p>'He's gone mad,' Julian thought in dismay.</p> - -<p>Julian despaired of struggling out of the quicksands<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> -that sucked at their feet. He thought desperately that -if the priest would come back, would recall his spirit -to take control of his wits, all might be well. The tongue -was babbling in an empty body while the spirit journeyed -in unknown fields, finding there what excruciating -torment? Who could tell! For the man was suffering, -that was clear; he had been suffering as he walked across -the grass, but he had suffered then in controlled silence, -spirit and mind close-locked and allied in the taut effort -of endurance; now, their alliance shattered by the sound -of a human voice, the spirit had fled, sweeping with it -the furies of agony, and leaving the mind bereaved, -chattering emptily, noisily, in the attempt at concealment. -He, Julian, was responsible for this revelation -of the existence of an unguessed secret. He must repair -the damage he had done.</p> - -<p>'Father!' he said, interrupting, and he took the priest -strongly by the wrist.</p> - -<p>Their eyes met.</p> - -<p>'Father!' Julian said again. He held the wrist with -the tensest effort of his fingers, and the eyes with the -tensest effort of his will. He saw the accentuated cavities -of the priest's thin face, and the pinched lines of suffering -at the corners of the mouth. Paul had been strong, -energetic, masculine. Now his speech was random, and -he quavered as a palsied old man. Even his personal -cleanliness had, in a measure, deserted him; his soutane -was stained, his hair lank and greasy. He confronted -Julian with a scared and piteous cowardice, compelled, -yet seeking escape, then as he slowly steadied himself -under Julian's grip the succeeding emotions were reflected -in his eyes: first shame; then a horrified grasping after -his self-respect; finally, most touching of all, confidence -and gratitude; and Julian, seeing the cycle completed -and knowing that Paul was again master of himself, -released the wrist and asked, in the most casual voice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> -at his command, 'All right?' He had the sensation of -having saved some one from falling.</p> - -<p>Paul nodded without speaking. Then he began to -ask Julian as to how he had employed the last eighteen -months, and they talked for some time without reference -to the unaccountable scene that had passed between -them. Paul talked with his wonted gentleness and -interest, the strangeness of his manner entirely vanished; -Julian could have believed it a hallucination, but for the -single trace left in the priest's disordered hair. Red -strands hung abjectly down his back. Julian found his -eyes drawn towards them in a horrible fascination, but, -because he knew the scene must be buried unless Paul -himself chose to revive it, he kept his glance turned away -with conscious deliberation.</p> - -<p>He was relieved when the priest left him.</p> - -<p>'Gone to do his hair'—the phrase came to his mind -as he saw the priest walk briskly away, tripping with -the old familiar stumble over his soutane, and saw the -long wisps faintly red on the black garment. 'Like -a woman—exactly!' he uttered in revolt, clenching his -hand at man's degradation. 'Like a woman, long hair, -long skirt; ready to listen to other people's troubles. Unnatural -existence; unnatural? it's unnatural to the point -of viciousness. No wonder the man's mind is unhinged.'</p> - -<p>He was really troubled about his friend, the more so -that loyalty would keep him silent and allow him to ask -no questions. He thought, however, that if Eve volunteered -any remarks about Paul it would not be disloyal -to listen. The afternoon was hot and still; Eve would -be indoors. The traditions of his English life still clung -to him sufficiently to make him chafe vaguely against -the idleness of the days; he resented the concession to -the climate. A demoralising place. A place where -priests let their hair grow long, and went temporarily -mad....</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> -<p>He walked in the patchy shade of the lemon-trees -towards the house in a distressed and irascible frame of -mind. He longed for action; his mind was never -content to dwell long unoccupied. He longed for the -strife the elections would bring. The house glared very -white, and all the green shutters were closed; behind -them, he knew, the windows would be closed too. -Another contradiction. In England, when one wanted -to keep a house cool, one opened the windows wide.</p> - -<p>He crossed the veranda; the drawing-room was dim -and empty. How absurd to paint sham flames on the -ceiling in a climate where the last thing one wanted to -remember was fire. He called,—</p> - -<p>'Eve!'</p> - -<p>Silence answered him. A book lying on the floor by -the writing-table showed him that she had been in the -room; no one else in that house would read Albert -Samain. He picked it up and read disgustedly,—</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">'... Des roses! des roses encore!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Je les adore à la souffrance.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Elles ont la sombre attirance<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Des choses qui donnent la mort.'<br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>'Nauseating!' he cried, flinging the book from him.</p> - -<p>Certainly the book was Eve's. Certainly she had been -in the room, for no one else would or could have drawn -that mask of a faun on the blotting paper. He looked -at it carelessly, then with admiration; what malicious -humour she had put into those squinting eyes, that -slanting mouth! He turned the blotting paper idly—how -like Eve to draw on the blotting paper!—and came -on other drawings: a demon, a fantastic castle, a half-obliterated -sketch of himself. Once he found his name, -in elaborate architectural lettering, repeated all over -the page. Then he found a letter of which the three -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> -<p>first words: 'Eternal, exasperating Eve!' and the last -sentence, ' ... votre réveil qui doit être charmant dans -le désordre fantaisiste de votre chambre,' made him shut -the blotter in a scurry of discretion.</p> - -<p>Here were all the vivid traces of her passage, but -where was she? Loneliness and the lack of occupation -oppressed him. He lounged away from the writing-table, -out into the wide passage which ran all round the -central court. He paused there, his hands in his -pockets, and called again,—</p> - -<p>'Eve!'</p> - -<p>'Eve!' the echoing passage answered startlingly.</p> - -<p>Presently another more tangible voice came to him as -he stood staring disconsolately through the windows -into the court.</p> - -<p>'Were you calling Mith Eve, Mathter Julian? The'th -rethting. Thall I tell her?'</p> - -<p>He was pleased to see Nana, fat, stayless, slipshod, -slovenly, benevolent. He kissed her, and told her she -was fatter than ever.</p> - -<p>'Glad I've come back, Nannie?'</p> - -<p>'Why, yeth, thurely, Mathter Julian.'</p> - -<p>Nana's demonstrations were always restrained, -respectful. She habitually boasted that although life -in the easy South might have induced her to relax -her severity towards her figure, she had never allowed -it to impair her manners.</p> - -<p>'Can I go up to Eve's room, Nannie?'</p> - -<p>'I thuppoth tho, my dear.'</p> - -<p>'Nannie, you know, you ought to be an old -negress.'</p> - -<p>'Why, dear Lord! me black?'</p> - -<p>'Yes; you'd be ever so much more suitable.'</p> - -<p>He ran off to Eve's room upstairs, laughing, boyish -again after his boredom and irritability. He had been -in Eve's room many times before, but with his fingers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> -on the door handle he paused. Again that strange -vexation at her years had seized him.</p> - -<p>He knocked.</p> - -<p>Inside, the room was very dim; the furniture bulked -large in the shadows. Scent, dusk, luxury lapped round -him like warm water. He had an impression of soft, -scattered garments, deep mirrors, chosen books, and -many little bottles. Suddenly he was appalled by the -insolence of his own intrusion—an unbeliever bursting -into a shrine. He stood silent by the door. He heard -a drowsy voice singing in a murmur an absurd childish -rhyme,—</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">'Il était noir comme un corbeau,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Ali, Ali, Ali, Alo,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Macachebono,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">La Roustah, la Mougah, la Roustah, la Mougah,<br /></span> -<span class="i9">Allah!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">'Il était de bonne famille,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sa mère élevait des chameaux,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Macachebono....'<br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>He discerned the bed, the filmy veils of the muslin -mosquito curtains, falling apart from a baldaquin. The -lazy voice, after a moment of silence, queried,—</p> - -<p>'Nana?'</p> - -<p>It was with an effort that he brought himself to utter,—</p> - -<p>'No; Julian.'</p> - -<p>With an upheaval of sheets he heard her sit upright -in bed, and her exclamation,—</p> - -<p>'Who said you might come in here?'</p> - -<p>At that he laughed, quite naturally.</p> - -<p>'Why not? I was bored. May I come and talk to -you?'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p> -<p>He came round the corner of the screen and saw her -sitting up, her hair tumbled and dark, her face indistinct, -her shoulders emerging white from a foam of lace.</p> - -<p>He sat down on the edge of her bed, the details of -the room emerging slowly from the darkness; and she -herself becoming more distinct as she watched him, her -shadowy eyes half sarcastic, half resentful.</p> - -<p>'Sybarite!' he said.</p> - -<p>She only smiled in answer, and put out one hand -towards him. It fell listlessly on to the sheets as -though she had no energy to hold it up.</p> - -<p>'You child,' he said, 'you make me feel coarse and -vulgar beside you. Here am I, burning for battle, and -there you lie, wasting time, wasting youth, half-asleep, -luxurious, and quite unrepentant.'</p> - -<p>'Surely even you must find it too hot for battle?'</p> - -<p>'I don't find it too hot to wish that it weren't too hot. -You, on the other hand, abandon yourself contentedly; -you are pleased that it is too hot for you to do anything -but glide voluptuously into a siesta in the middle of -the day.'</p> - -<p>'You haven't been here long, remember, Julian; -you're still brisk from England. Only wait; Herakleion -will overcome you.'</p> - -<p>'Don't!' he cried out startlingly. 'Don't say it! -It's prophetic. I shall struggle against it; I shall be -the stronger.'</p> - -<p>She only laughed murmurously into her pillows, but -he was really stirred; he stood up and walked about the -room, launching spasmodic phrases.</p> - -<p>'You and Herakleion, you are all of a piece.—You -shan't drag me down.—Not if I am to live here.—I -know one loses one's sense of values here. I learnt -that when I last went away to England. I've come back -on my guard.—I'm determined to remain level-headed.—I -refuse to be impressed by fantastic happenings....</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> -<p>'Why do you stop so abruptly?' Did her voice mock -him?</p> - -<p>He had stopped, remembering Paul. Already he had -blundered against something he did not understand. -An impulse came to him to confide in Eve; Eve lying -there, quietly smiling with unexpressed but unmistakable -irony; Eve so certain that, sooner or later, Herakleion -would conquer him. He would confide in her. And -then, as he hesitated, he knew suddenly that Eve was -not trustworthy.</p> - -<p>He began again walking about the room, betraying -by no word that a moment of revelation, important and -dramatic, had come and passed on the tick of a clock. -Yet he knew he had crossed a line over which he could -now never retrace his steps. He would never again -regard Eve in quite the same light. He absorbed the -alteration with remarkable rapidity into his conception -of her. He supposed that the knowledge of her untrustworthiness -had always lain dormant in him waiting -for the test which should some day call it out; that -was why he was so little impressed by what he had -mistaken for new knowledge.</p> - -<p>'Julian, sit down; how restless you are. And you -look so enormous in this room, you frighten me.'</p> - -<p>He sat down, closer to her than he had sat before, -and began playing with her fingers.</p> - -<p>'How soft your hand is. It is quite boneless,' he said, -crushing it together; 'it's like a little pigeon. So you -think Herakleion will beat me? I dare say you are -right. Shall I tell you something? When I was on -my way here, from England, I determined that I -would allow myself to be beaten. I don't know why -I had that moment of revolt just now. Because I am -quite determined to let myself drift with the current, -whether it carry me towards adventures or towards -lotus-land.'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> -<p>'Perhaps towards both.'</p> - -<p>'Isn't that too much to hope?'</p> - -<p>'Why? They are compatible. C'est le sort de la -jeunesse.'</p> - -<p>'Prophesy adventures for me!'</p> - -<p>'My dear Julian! I'm far too lazy.'</p> - -<p>'Lotus-land, then?'</p> - -<p>'This room isn't a bad substitute,' she proffered.</p> - -<p>He wondered then at the exact extent of her meaning. -He was accustomed to the amazing emotional scenes -she had periodically created between them in childhood—scenes -which he never afterwards could rehearse to -himself; scenes whose fabric he never could dissect, -because it was more fantastic, more unreal, than -gossamer; scenes in which storm, anger, and heroics had -figured; scenes from which he had emerged worried, -shattered, usually with the ardent impress of her lips -on his, and brimming with self-reproach. A calm -existence was not for her; she would neither understand -nor tolerate it.</p> - -<p>The door opened, and old Nana came shuffling in.</p> - -<p>'Mith Eve, pleath, there'th a gentleman downstairth -to thee you. Here'th hith card.'</p> - -<p>Julian took it.</p> - -<p>'Eve, it's Malteios.'</p> - -<p>That drowsy voice, indifferent and melodious,—</p> - -<p>'Tell him to go away, Nana; tell him I am resting.'</p> - -<p>'But, dearie, what'll your mother thay?'</p> - -<p>'Tell him to go away, Nana.'</p> - -<p>'He'th the Prime Minithter,' Nana began doubtfully.</p> - -<p>'Eve!' Julian said in indignation.</p> - -<p>'But, Mith Eve, you know he came latht week and -you forgot he wath coming and you wath out.'</p> - -<p>'Is that so, Eve? Is he here by appointment with -you to-day?'</p> - -<p>'No.'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> -<p>'I shall go down to him and find out whether you are -speaking the truth.'</p> - -<p>He went downstairs, ignoring Eve's voice that called -him back. The Premier was in the drawing-room, -examining the insignificant ornaments on the table. -Their last meeting had been a memorable one, in the -painted room overlooking the <i>platia</i>.</p> - -<p>When their greetings were over, Julian said,—</p> - -<p>'I believe you were asking for my cousin, sir?'</p> - -<p>'That is so. She promised me,' said the Premier, a -sly look coming over his face, 'that she would give me -tea to-day. Shall I have the pleasure of seeing her?'</p> - -<p>'What,' thought Julian, 'does this old scapegrace -politician, who must have his mind and his days full of -the coming elections, want with Eve? and want so -badly that he can perform the feat of coming out here -from Herakleion in the heat of the afternoon?'</p> - -<p>Aloud he said, grimly because of the lie she had told -him,—</p> - -<p>'She will be with you in a few moments, sir.'</p> - -<p>In Eve's dark room, where Nana still stood fatly and -hopelessly expostulating, and Eve pretended to sleep, -he spoke roughly,—</p> - -<p>'You lied to me as usual. He is here by appointment. -He is waiting. I told him you would not keep him -waiting long. You must get up.'</p> - -<p>'I shall do nothing of the sort. What right have you -to dictate to me?'</p> - -<p>'You're making Mathter Julian croth—and he tho -thweet-tempered alwayth,' said Nana's warning voice.</p> - -<p>'Does she usually behave like this, Nana?'</p> - -<p>'Oh, Mathter Julian, it'th dreadful—and me alwayth -thaving her from her mother, too. And loothing all -her thingth, too, all the time. I can't keep anything -in it'th plathe. Only three dayth ago the lotht a diamond -ring, but the never cared. The Thpanith gentleman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> -thent it to her, and the never thanked him, and then -lotht the ring. And the never notithed or cared. And -the getth dretheth and dretheth, and won't put them on -twith. And flowerth and chocolathes thent her—they -all thpoil her tho—and the biteth all the chocolathes in -two to thee what'th inthide, and throwth them away and -thayth the dothn't like them. That exathperating, the -ith.'</p> - -<p>'Leave her to me, Nannie.'</p> - -<p>'Mith Naughtineth,' said Nana, as she left the room.</p> - -<p>They were alone.</p> - -<p>'Eve, I am really angry. That old man!'</p> - -<p>She turned luxuriously on to her back, her arms flung -wide, and lay looking at him.</p> - -<p>'You are very anxious that I should go to him. You -are not very jealous of me, are you, Julian?'</p> - -<p>'Why does he come?' he asked curiously. 'You never -told me....'</p> - -<p>'There are a great many things I never tell you, my -dear.'</p> - -<p>'It is not my business and I am not interested,' he -answered, 'but he has come a long way in the heat to -see you, and I dislike your callousness. I insist upon -your getting up.'</p> - -<p>She smiled provokingly. He dropped on his knees -near her.</p> - -<p>'Darling, to please me?'</p> - -<p>She gave a laugh of sudden disdain.</p> - -<p>'Fool! I might have obeyed you; now you have -thrown away your advantage.'</p> - -<p>'Have I?' he said, and, slipping his arm beneath her, -he lifted her up bodily. 'Where shall I put you down?' -he asked, standing in the middle of the room and -holding her. 'At your dressing-table?'</p> - -<p>'Why don't you steal me, Julian?' she murmured, -settling herself more comfortably in his grasp.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> -<p>'Steal you? what on earth do you mean? explain!' -he said.</p> - -<p>'Oh, I don't know; if you don't understand, it doesn't -matter,' she replied with some impatience, but beneath -her impatience he saw that she was shaken, and, flinging -one arm round his neck, she pulled herself up and kissed -him on the mouth. He struggled away, displeased, -brotherly, and feeling the indecency of that kiss in that -darkened room, given by one whose thinly-clad, supple -body he had been holding as he might hold a child's.</p> - -<p>'You have a genius for making me angry, Eve.'</p> - -<p>He stopped: she had relaxed suddenly, limp and -white in his arms; with a long sigh she let her head fall -back, her eyes closed. The warmth of her limbs reached -him through the diaphanous garment she wore. He -thought he had never before seen such abandonment of -expression and attitude; his displeasure deepened, and -an uncomplimentary word rose to his lips.</p> - -<p>'I don't wonder....' flashed through his mind.</p> - -<p>He was shocked, as a brother might be at the betrayal -of his sister's sexuality.</p> - -<p>'Eve!' he said sharply.</p> - -<p>She opened her eyes, met his, and came to herself.</p> - -<p>'Put me down!' she cried, and as he set her on her -feet, she snatched at her Spanish shawl and wrapped it -round her. 'Oh!' she said, an altered being, shamed and -outraged, burying her face, 'go now, Julian—go, go, go.'</p> - -<p>He went, shaking his head in perplexity: there were -too many things in Herakleion he failed to understand. -Paul, Eve, Malteios. This afternoon with Eve, which -should have been natural, had been difficult. Moments -of illumination were also moments of a profounder -obscurity. And why should Malteios return to-day, -when in the preceding week, according to Nana, he had -been so casually forgotten? Why so patient, so long-suffering, -with Eve? Was it possible that he should be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> -attracted by Eve? It seemed to Julian, accustomed still -to regard her as a child, very improbable. Malteios! -The Premier! And the elections beginning within four -days—that he should spare the time! Rumour said -that the elections would go badly for him; that the -Stavridists would be returned. A bad look-out for the -Islands if they were. Rumour said that Stavridis was -neglecting no means, no means whatsoever, by which he -might strengthen his cause. He was more unscrupulous, -younger, more vigorous, than Malteios. The years of -dispossession had added to his determination and energy. -Malteios had seriously prejudiced his popularity by his -liaison with Kato, a woman, as the people of Herakleion -never forgot, of the Islands, and an avowed champion -of their cause. Was it possible that Eve was mixed up in -Malteios' political schemes? Julian laughed aloud at -the idea of Eve interesting herself in politics. But -perhaps Kato herself, for whom Eve entertained one of -her strongest and most enduring enthusiasms, had taken -advantage of their friendship to interest Eve in Malteios' -affairs? Anything was possible in that preposterous -state. Eve, he knew, would mischievously and ignorantly -espouse any form of intrigue. If Malteios came with -any other motive he was an old satyr—nothing more.</p> - -<p>Julian's mind strayed again to the elections. The -return of the Stavridis party would mean certain -disturbances in the Islands. Disturbances would mean -an instant appeal for leadership. He would be reminded -of the day he had spent, the only day of his life, he -thought, on which he had truly lived, on Aphros. -Tsigaridis would come, grave, insistent, to hold him to -his undertakings, a figure of comedy in his absurdly -picturesque clothes, but also a figure full of dignity with -his unanswerable claim. He would bring forward a -species of moral blackmail, to which Julian, ripe for -adventure and sensitive to his obligations, would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> -surely surrender. After that there would be no drawing -back....</p> - -<p>'I have little hope of victory,' said Malteios, to whom -Julian, in search of information, had recourse; and -hinted with infinite suavity and euphemism, that the -question of election in Herakleion depended largely, if -not entirely, on the condition and judicious distribution -of the party funds. Stavridis, it appeared, had -controlled larger subscriptions, more trustworthy guarantees. -The Christopoulos, the largest bankers, were -unreliable. Alexander had political ambitions. An -under-secretaryship.... Christopoulos <i>père</i> had subscribed, -it was true, to the Malteios party, but while -his right hand produced the miserable sum from his -right pocket, who could tell with what generosity his -left hand ladled out the drachmæ into the gaping -Stavridis coffers? Safe in either eventuality. Malteios -knew his game.</p> - -<p>The Premier enlarged blandly upon the situation, -regretful, but without indignation. As a man of the -world, he accepted its ways as Herakleion knew them. -Julian noted his gentle shrugs, his unfinished sentences -and innuendoes. It occurred to him that the Premier's -frankness and readiness to enlarge upon political -technique were not without motive. Buttoned into his -high frock-coat, which the climate of Herakleion was -unable to abolish, he walked softly up and down the -parquet floor between the lapis columns, his fingers -loosely interlaced behind his back, talking to Julian. In -another four days he might no longer be Premier, might -be merely a private individual, unostentatiously working -a dozen strands of intrigue. The boy was not to be -neglected as a tool. He tried him on what he conceived -to be his tenderest point.</p> - -<p>'I have not been unfavourable to your islanders -during my administration,'—then, thinking the method<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> -perhaps a trifle crude, he added, 'I have even exposed -myself to the attack of my opponents on that score; -they have made capital out of my clemency. Had I been -a less disinterested man, I should have had greater foresight. -I should have sacrificed my sense of justice to the -demands of my future.'</p> - -<p>He gave a deprecatory and melancholy smile.</p> - -<p>'Do I regret the course I chose? Not for an instant. -The responsibility of a statesman is not solely towards -himself or his adherents. He must set it sternly aside -in favour of the poor, ignorant destinies committed to -his care. I lay down my office with an unburdened -conscience.'</p> - -<p>He stopped in his walk and stood before Julian, who, -with his hands thrust in his pockets, had listened to -the discourse from the depths of his habitual arm-chair.</p> - -<p>'But you, young man, are not in my position. The -door I seek is marked Exit; the door you seek, Entrance. -I think I may, without presumption, as an old and -finished man, offer you a word of prophecy.' He -unlaced his fingers and pointed one of them at Julian. -'You may live to be the saviour of an oppressed people, -a not unworthy mission. Remember that my present -opponents, should they come to power, will not sympathise -with your efforts, as I myself—who knows?—might -have sympathised.'</p> - -<p>Julian, acknowledging the warning, thought he -recognised the style of the Senate Chamber, but failed -to recognise the sentiments he had heard expressed by -the Premier on a former occasion, on this same subject -of his interference in the affairs of the Islands. He -ventured to suggest as much. The Premier's smile -broadened, his deprecatory manner deepened.</p> - -<p>'Ah, you were younger then; hot-headed; I did not -know how far I could trust you. Your intentions,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> -excellent; but your judgment perhaps a little precipitate? -Since then, you have seen the world; you are -a man. You have returned, no doubt, ready to pick up -the weapon you tentatively fingered as a boy. You will -no longer be blinded by sentiment, you will weigh your -actions nicely in the balance. And you will remember -the goodwill of Platon Malteios?'</p> - -<p>He resumed his soft walk up and down the room.</p> - -<p>'Within a few weeks you may find yourself in the -heart of strife. I see you as a young athlete on the -threshold, doubtless as generous as most young men, -as ambitious, as eager. Discard the divine foolishness -of allowing ideas, not facts, to govern your heart. We -live in Herakleion, not in Utopia. We have all shed, -little by little, our illusions....'</p> - -<p>After a sigh, the depth of whose genuineness neither -he nor Julian could accurately diagnose, he continued, -brightening as he returned to the practical,—</p> - -<p>'Stavridis—a harsher man than I. He and your -islanders would come to grips within a month. I should -scarcely deplore it. A question based on the struggle -of nationality—for, it cannot be denied, the Italian -blood of your islanders severs them irremediably from -the true Greek of Herakleion—such questions cry for -decisive settlement even at the cost of a little bloodletting. -Submission or liberty, once and for all. That -is preferable to the present irritable shilly-shally.'</p> - -<p>'I know the alternative I should choose,' said Julian.</p> - -<p>'Liberty?—the lure of the young,' said Malteios, not -unkindly. 'I said that I should scarcely deplore such -an attempt, for it would fail; Herakleion could never -tolerate for long the independence of the Islands. Yes, -it would surely fail. But from it good might emerge. -A friendlier settlement, a better understanding, a more -cheerful submission. Believe me,' he added, seeing the -cloud of obstinate disagreement upon Julian's face,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> -'never break your heart over the failure. Your Islands -would have learnt the lesson of the inevitable; and the -great inevitable is perhaps the least intolerable of all -human sorrows. There is, after all, a certain kindliness -in the fate which lays the obligation of sheer necessity -upon our courage.'</p> - -<p>For a moment his usual manner had left him; he -recalled it with a short laugh.</p> - -<p>'Perhaps the thought that my long years of office -may be nearly at an end betrays me into this undue -melancholy,' he said flippantly; 'pay no attention, -young man. Indeed, whatever I may say, I know that -you will cling to your idea of revolt. Am I not right?'</p> - -<p>Once more the keen, sly look was in his eyes, and -Julian knew that only the Malteios who desired the -rupture of the Islands with his own political adversary, -remained. He felt, in a way, comforted to be again -upon the familiar ground; his conception of the man -had been momentarily disarranged.</p> - -<p>'Your Excellency is very shrewd,' he replied, politely -and evasively.</p> - -<p>Malteios shrugged and smiled the smile that had such -real charm; and as he shrugged and smiled the discussion -away into the region of such things dismissed, his glance -travelled beyond Julian to the door, his mouth curved -into a more goatish smile amidst his beard, and his eyes -narrowed into two slits till his whole face resembled the -mask of the old faun that Eve had drawn on the blotting -paper.</p> - -<p>'Mademoiselle!' he murmured, advancing towards -Eve, who, dressed in white, appeared between the lapis-lazuli -columns.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> - -<h2>III</h2> - -<p>Madame Lafarge gave a picnic which preceded the -day of the elections, and to Julian Davenant it seemed -that he was entering a cool, dark cavern roofed over -with mysterious greenery after riding in the heat across -a glaring plain. The transition from the white Herakleion -to the deep valley, shut in by steep, terraced hills covered -with olives, ilexes, and myrtles—a valley profound, -haunted, silent, hallowed by pools of black-green shadow—consciousness -of the transition stole over him soothingly, -as his pony picked its way down the stony path -of the hill-side. He had refused to accompany the -others. Early in the morning he had ridden over the -hills, so early that he had watched the sunrise, and had -counted, from a summit, the houses on Aphros in the -glassy limpidity of the Grecian dawn. The morning had -been pure as the treble notes of a violin, the sea below -bright as a pavement of diamonds. The Islands lay, -clear and low, delicately yellow, rose, and lilac, in the -serene immensity of the dazzling waters. They seemed -to him to contain every element of enchantment; -cleanly of line as cameos, yet intangible as a mirage, -rising lovely and gracious as Aphrodite from the white -flashes of their foam, fairy islands of beauty and illusion -in a sea of radiant and eternal youth.</p> - -<p>A stream ran through the valley, and near the banks -of the stream, in front of a clump of ilexes, gleamed the -marble columns of a tiny ruined temple. Julian turned -his pony loose to graze, throwing himself down at full -length beside the stream and idly pulling at the orchids -and magenta cyclamen which grew in profusion. Towards -midday his solitude was interrupted. A procession<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> -of victorias accompanied by men on horseback began -to wind down the steep road into the valley; from -afar he watched them coming, conscious of distaste and -boredom, then remembering that Eve was of the party, -and smiling to himself a little in relief. She would come, -at first silent, unobtrusive, almost sulky; then little by -little the spell of their intimacy would steal over him, -and by a word or a glance they would be linked, the -whole system of their relationship developing itself -anew, a system elaborated by her, as he well knew; -built up of personal, whimsical jokes; stimulating, -inventive, she had to a supreme extent the gift of creating -such a web, subtly, by meaning more than she said and -saying less than she meant; giving infinite promise, but -ever postponing fulfilment.</p> - -<p>'A flirt?' he wondered to himself, lazily watching the -string of carriages in one of which she was.</p> - -<p>But she was more elemental, more dangerous, than a -mere flirt. On that account, and because of her wide -and penetrative intelligence, he could not relegate her -to the common category. Yet he thought he might -safely make the assertion that no man in Herakleion had -altogether escaped her attraction. He thought he might -apply this generalisation from M. Lafarge, or Malteios, -or Don Rodrigo Valdez, down to the chasseur who picked -up her handkerchief. (Her handkerchief! ah, yes! -she could always be traced, as in a paper-chase, by her -scattered possessions—a handkerchief, a glove, a -cigarette-case, a gardenia, a purse full of money, a -powder-puff—frivolities doubly delightful and doubly -irritating in a being so terrifyingly elemental, so unassailably -and sarcastically intelligent.) Eve, the child -he had known unaccountable, passionate, embarrassing, -who had written him the precocious letters on every -topic in a variety of tongues, imaginative exceedingly, -copiously illustrated, bursting occasionally into erratic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> -and illegible verse; Eve, with her desperate and excessive -passions; Eve, grown to womanhood, grown -into a firebrand! He had been entertained, but at -the same time slightly offended, to find her grown; his -conception of her was disarranged; he had felt almost a -sense of outrage in seeing her heavy hair piled upon her -head; he had looked curiously at the uncovered nape of -her neck, the hair brushed upwards and slightly curling, -where once it had hung thick and plaited; he had noted -with an irritable shame the softness of her throat in the -evening dress she had worn when first he had seen her. -He banished violently the recollection of her in that -brief moment when in his anger he had lifted her out of -her bed and had carried her across the room in his -arms. He banished it with a shudder and a -revulsion, as he might have banished a suggestion of -incest.</p> - -<p>Springing to his feet, he went forward to meet the -carriages; the shadowed valley was flicked by the -bright uniforms of the chasseurs on the boxes and the -summer dresses of the women in the victorias; the -laughter of the Danish Excellency already reached his -ears above the hum of talk and the sliding hoofs of the -horses as they advanced cautiously down the hill, -straining back against their harness, and bringing with -them at every step a little shower of stones from the -rough surface of the road. The younger men, Greeks, -and secretaries of legations, rode by the side of the -carriages. The Danish Excellency was the first to alight, -fat and babbling in a pink muslin dress with innumerable -flounces; Julian turned aside to hide his smile. Madame -Lafarge descended with her customary weightiness, -beaming without benevolence but with a tyrannical -proprietorship over all her guests. She graciously -accorded her hand to Julian. The chasseurs were already -busy with wicker baskets.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> -<p>'The return to Nature,' Alexander Christopoulos -whispered to Eve.</p> - -<p>Julian observed that Eve looked bored and sulky; -she detested large assemblies, unless she could hold their -entire attention, preferring the more intimate scope of -the <i>tête-à-tête</i>. Amongst the largest gathering she usually -contrived to isolate herself and one other, with whom -she conversed in whispers. Presently, he knew, she -would be made to recite, or to tell anecdotes, involving -imitation, and this she would perform, at first languidly, -but warming with applause, and would end by dancing—he -knew her programme! He rarely spoke to her, or -she to him, in public. She would appear to ignore him, -devoting herself to Don Rodrigo, or to Alexander, or, -most probably, to the avowed admirer of some other -woman. He had frequently brought his direct and -masculine arguments to bear against this practice. She -listened without replying, as though she did not understand.</p> - -<p>Fru Thyregod was more than usually sprightly.</p> - -<p>'Now, Armand, you lazy fellow, bring me my camera; -this day has to be immortalised; I must have pictures -of all you beautiful young men for my friends in Denmark. -Fauns in a Grecian grave! Let me peep whether -any of you have cloven feet.'</p> - -<p>Madame Lafarge put up her lorgnon, and said to the -Italian Minister in a not very low voice,—</p> - -<p>'I am so fond of dear Fru Thyregod, but she is terribly -vulgar at times.'</p> - -<p>There was a great deal of laughter over Fru Thyregod's -sally, and some of the young men pretended to hide their -feet beneath napkins.</p> - -<p>'Eve and Julie, you must be the nymphs,' the Danish -Excellency went on.</p> - -<p>Eve took no notice; Julie looked shy, and the sisters -Christopoulos angry at not being included.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> -<p>'Now we must all help to unpack; that is half the fun -of the picnic,' said Madame Lafarge, in a business-like -tone.</p> - -<p>Under the glare of her lorgnon Armand and Madame -Delahaye attacked one basket; they nudged and -whispered to one another, and their fingers became -entangled under the cover of the paper wrappings. Eve -strolled away, Valdez followed her. The Persian Minister -who had come unobtrusively, after the manner of a -humble dog, stood gently smiling in the background. -Julie Lafarge never took her adoring eyes off Eve. -The immense Grbits had drawn Julian on one side, and -was talking to him, shooting out his jaw and hitting -Julian on the chest for emphasis. Fru Thyregod, with -many whispers, collected a little group to whom she -pointed them out, and photographed them.</p> - -<p>'Really,' said the Danish Minister peevishly, to Condesa -Valdez, 'my wife is the most foolish woman I know.'</p> - -<p>During the picnic every one was very gay, with the -exception of Julian, who regretted having come, and of -Miloradovitch, of whom Eve was taking no notice at all. -Madame Lafarge was especially pleased with the success -of her expedition. She enjoyed the intimacy that -existed amongst all her guests, and said as much in an -aside to the Roumanian Minister.</p> - -<p>'You know, <i>chère Excellence</i>, I have known most of -these dear friends so long; we have spent happy years -together in different capitals; that is the best of diplomacy: -<i>ce qu'il y a de beau dans la carrière c'est qu'on -se retrouve toujours</i>.'</p> - -<p>'It is not unlike a large family, one may say,' replied -the Roumanian.</p> - -<p>'How well you phrase it!' exclaimed Madame Lafarge. -'Listen, everybody: His Excellency has made a real -<i>mot d'esprit</i>, he says diplomacy is like a large family.'</p> - -<p>Eve and Julian looked up, and their eyes met.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p> -<p>'You are not eating anything, Ardalion Semeonovitch,' -said Armand (he had once spent two months in Russia) -to Miloradovitch, holding out a plate of sandwiches.</p> - -<p>'No, nor do I want anything,' said Miloradovitch -rudely, and he got up, and walked away by himself.</p> - -<p>'Dear me! <i>ces Russes!</i> what manners!' said Madame -Lafarge, pretending to be amused; and everybody looked -facetiously at Eve.</p> - -<p>'I remember once, when I was in Russia, at the time -that Stolypin was Prime Minister,' Don Rodrigo began, -'there was a serious scandal about one of the Empress's -ladies-in-waiting and a son of old Princess Golucheff—you -remember old Princess Golucheff, Excellency? she -was a Bariatinsky, a very handsome woman, and Serge -Radziwill killed himself on her account—he was a Pole, -one of the Kieff Radziwills, whose mother was commonly -supposed to be <i>au mieux</i> with Stolypin (though Stolypin -was not at all that kind of man; he was <i>très province</i>), -and most people thought that was the reason why Serge -occupied such a series of the highest Court appointments, -in spite of being a Pole—the Poles were particularly -unpopular just then; I even remember that Stanislas -Aveniev, in spite of having a Russian mother—she -was an Orloff, and her jewels were proverbial even in -Petersburg—they had all been given her by the Grand -Duke Boris—Stanislas Aveniev was obliged to resign -his commission in the Czar's guard. However, Casimir -Golucheff....' but everybody had forgotten the -beginning of his story and only Madame Lafarge was left -politely listening.</p> - -<p>Julian overheard Eve reproducing, in an undertone -to Armand, the style and manner of Don Rodrigo's -conversation. He also became aware that, between her -sallies, Fru Thyregod was bent upon retaining his -attention for herself.</p> - -<p>He was disgusted with all this paraphernalia of social<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> -construction, and longed ardently for liberty on Aphros. -He wondered whether Eve were truly satisfied, or whether -she played the part merely with the humorous gusto of -an artist, caught up in his own game; he wondered to -what extent her mystery was due to her life's pretence?</p> - -<p>Later, he found himself drifting apart with the Danish -Excellency; he drifted, that is, beside her, tall, slack -of limb, absent of mind, while she tripped with apparent -heedlessness, but with actual determination of purpose. -As she tripped she chattered. Fair and silly, she -demanded gallantry of men, and gallantry of a kind—perfunctory, -faintly pitying, apologetic—she was -accorded. She had enticed Julian away, with a certain -degree of skill, and was glad. Eve had scowled blackly, -in the one swift glance she had thrown them.</p> - -<p>'Your cousin enchants Don Rodrigo, it is clear,' Fru -Thyregod said with malice as they strolled.</p> - -<p>Julian turned to look back. He saw Eve sitting with -the Spanish Minister on the steps of the little temple. In -front of the temple, the ruins of the picnic stained the -valley with bright frivolity; bits of white paper fluttered, -tablecloths remained spread on the ground, and laughter -echoed from the groups that still lingered hilariously; -the light dresses of the women were gay, and their -parasols floated above them like coloured bubbles against -the darkness of the ilexes.</p> - -<p>'What desecration of the Dryads' grove,' said Fru -Thyregod, 'let us put it out of sight,' and she gave a -little run forward, and then glanced over her shoulder -to see if Julian were following her.</p> - -<p>He came, unsmiling and leisurely. As soon as they -were hidden from sight among the olives, she began to -talk to him about himself, walking slowly, looking up -at him now and then, and prodding meditatively with -the tip of her parasol at the stones upon the ground. -He was, she said, so free. He had his life before him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> -And she talked about herself, of the shackles of her sex, -the practical difficulties of her life, her poverty, her -effort to hide beneath a gay exterior a heart that was -not gay.</p> - -<p>'Carl,' she said, alluding to her husband, 'has indeed -charge of the affairs of Norway and Sweden also in -Herakleion, but Herakleion is so tiny, he is paid as -though he were a Consul.'</p> - -<p>Julian listened, dissecting the true from the untrue; -although he knew her gaiety was no effort, but merely -the child of her innate foolishness, he also knew that -her poverty was a source of real difficulties to her, and -he felt towards her a warm, though a bored and slightly -contemptuous, friendliness. He listened to her babble, -thinking more of the stream by which they walked, and -of the little magenta cyclamen that grew in the shady, -marshy places on its banks.</p> - -<p>Fru Thyregod was speaking of Eve, a topic round -which she perpetually hovered in an uncertainty of -fascination and resentment.</p> - -<p>'Do you approve of her very intimate friendship with -that singer, Madame Kato?'</p> - -<p>'I am very fond of Madame Kato myself, Fru -Thyregod.'</p> - -<p>'Ah, you are a man. But for Eve ... a girl.... -After all, what is Madame Kato but a common woman, -a woman of the people, and the mistress of Malteios into -the bargain?'</p> - -<p>Fru Thyregod was unwontedly serious. Julian had -not yet realised to what extent Alexander Christopoulos -had transferred his attentions to Eve.</p> - -<p>'You know I am an unconventional woman; every -one who knows me even a little can see that I am -unconventional. But when I see a child, a nice child, -like your cousin Eve, associated with a person like Kato, -I think to myself, "Mabel, that is unbecoming."'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> -<p>She repeated,—</p> - -<p>'And yet I have been told that I was too unconventional. -Yes, Carl has often reproached me, and my -friends too. They say, "Mabel, you are too soft-hearted, -and you are too unconventional." What do -you think?'</p> - -<p>Julian ignored the personal. He said,—</p> - -<p>'I should not describe Eve as a "nice child."'</p> - -<p>'No? Well, perhaps not. She is too ... too....' -said Fru Thyregod, who, not having very many ideas -of her own, liked to induce other people into supplying -the missing adjective.</p> - -<p>'She is too important,' Julian said gravely.</p> - -<p>The adjective in this case was unexpected. The -Danish Excellency could only say,—</p> - -<p>'I think I know what you mean.'</p> - -<p>Julian, perfectly well aware that she did not, and -caring nothing whether she did or no, but carelessly -willing to illuminate himself further on the subject, -pursued,—</p> - -<p>'Her frivolity is a mask. Her instincts alone are -deep; <i>how</i> deep, it frightens me to think. She is an -artist, although, she may never produce art. She lives -in a world of her own, with its own code of morals and -values. The Eve that we all know is a sham, the -product of her own pride and humour. She is laughing at -us all. The Eve we know is entertaining, cynical, selfish, -unscrupulous. The real Eve is ...' he paused, and -brought out his words with a satisfied finality, 'a rebel -and an idealist.'</p> - -<p>Then, glancing at his bewildered companion, he -laughed and said,—</p> - -<p>'Don't believe a word I say, Fru Thyregod: Eve is -nineteen, bent only upon enjoying her life to the -full.'</p> - -<p>He knew, nevertheless, that he had swept together<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> -the loose wash of his thought into a concrete channel; -and rejoiced.</p> - -<p>Fru Thyregod passed to a safer topic. She liked -Julian, and understood only one form of excitement.</p> - -<p>'You bring with you such a breath of freshness and -originality,' she said, sighing, 'into our stale little world.'</p> - -<p>His newly-found good humour coaxed him into -responsiveness.</p> - -<p>'No world can surely ever be stale to you, Fru -Thyregod; I always think of you as endowed with -perpetual youth and gaiety.'</p> - -<p>'Ah, Julian, you have perfect manners, to pay so -charming a compliment to an old woman like me.'</p> - -<p>She neither thought her world stale or little, nor -herself old, but pathos had often proved itself of value.</p> - -<p>'Everybody knows, Fru Thyregod, that you are the -life and soul of Herakleion.'</p> - -<p>They had wandered into a little wood, and sat down -on a fallen tree beside the stream. She began again -prodding at the ground with her parasol, keeping her -eyes cast down. She was glad to have captured Julian, -partly for her own sake, and partly because she knew -that Eve would be annoyed.</p> - -<p>'How delightful to escape from all our noisy friends,' -she said; 'we shall create quite a scandal; but I am -too unconventional to trouble about that. I cannot -sympathise with those limited, conventional folk who -always consider appearances. I have always said, "One -should be natural. Life is too short for the conventions." -Although, I think one should refrain from giving pain. -When I was a girl, I was a terrible tomboy.'</p> - -<p>He listened to her babble of coy platitudes, contrasting -her with Eve.</p> - -<p>'I never lost my spirits,' she went on, in the meditative -tone she thought suitable to <i>tête-à-tête</i> conversations—it -provoked intimacy, and afforded agreeable relief<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> -to her more social manner; a woman, to be charming, -must be several-sided; gay in public, but a little wistful -philosophy was interesting in private; it indicated -sympathy, and betrayed a thinking mind,—'I never -lost my spirits, although life has not always been very -easy for me; still, with good spirits and perhaps a little -courage one can continue to laugh, isn't that the way to -take life? and on the whole I have enjoyed mine, and -my little adventures too, my little harmless adventures; -Carl always laughs and says, "You will always have -adventures, Mabel, so I must make the best of it,"—he -says that, though he has been very jealous at times. -Poor Carl,' she said reminiscently, 'perhaps I have made -him suffer; who knows?'</p> - -<p>Julian looked at her; he supposed that her existence -was made up of such experiments, and knew that the -arrival of every new young man in Herakleion was to -her a source of flurry and endless potentialities which, -alas, never fulfilled their promise, but which left her -undaunted and optimistic for the next affray.</p> - -<p>'Why do I always talk about myself to you?' she said, -with her little laugh; 'you must blame yourself for -being too sympathetic.'</p> - -<p>He scarcely knew how their conversation progressed; -he wondered idly whether Eve conducted hers upon the -same lines with Don Rodrigo Valdez, or whether she had -been claimed by Miloradovitch, to whom she said she -was engaged. Did she care for Miloradovitch? he was -immensely rich, the owner of jewels and oil-mines, -remarkably good-looking; dashing, and a gambler. At -diplomatic gatherings he wore a beautiful uniform. -Julian had seen Eve dancing with him; he had seen -the Russian closely following her out of a room, bending -forward to speak to her, and her ironical eyes -raised for an instant over the slow movement of her fan. -He had seen them disappear together, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> -provocative poise of her white shoulders, and the richness -of the beautiful uniform, had remained imprinted -on his memory.</p> - -<p>He awoke with dismay to the fact that Fru Thyregod -had taken off her hat.</p> - -<p>She had a great quantity of soft, yellow hair into -which she ran her fingers, lifting its weight as though -oppressed. He supposed that the gesture was not so -irrelevant to their foregoing conversation, of which he -had not noticed a word, as it appeared to be. He was -startled to find himself saying in a tone of commiseration,—</p> - -<p>'Yes, it must be very heavy.'</p> - -<p>'I wish that I could cut it all off,' Fru Thyregod cried -petulantly. 'Why, to amuse you, only look....' -and to his horror she withdrew a number of pins and -allowed her hair to fall in a really beautiful cascade over -her shoulders. She smiled at him, parting the strands -before her eyes.</p> - -<p>At that moment Eve and Miloradovitch came into -view, wandering side by side down the path.</p> - -<p>Of the four, Miloradovitch alone was amused. Julian -was full of a shamefaced anger towards Fru Thyregod, -and between the two women an instant enmity sprang -into being like a living and visible thing. The Russian -drew near to Fru Thyregod with some laughing compliment; -she attached herself desperately to him as a refuge -from Julian. Julian and Eve remained face to face -with one another.</p> - -<p>'Walk with me a little,' she said, making no attempt -to disguise her fury.</p> - -<p>'My dear Eve,' he said, when they were out of earshot, -'I should scarcely recognise you when you put on that -expression.'</p> - -<p>He spoke frigidly. She was indeed transformed, her -features coarsened and unpleasing, her soft delicacy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> -vanished. He could not believe that he had ever thought -her rare, exquisite, charming.</p> - -<p>'I don't blame you for preferring Fru Thyregod,' she -returned.</p> - -<p>'I believe your vanity to be so great that you resent -any man speaking to any other woman but yourself,' -he said, half persuading himself that he was voicing a -genuine conviction.</p> - -<p>'Very well, if you choose to believe that,' she replied.</p> - -<p>They walked a little way in angry silence.</p> - -<p>'I detest all women,' he added presently.</p> - -<p>'Including me?'</p> - -<p>'Beginning with you.'</p> - -<p>He was reminded of their childhood with its endless -disputes, and made an attempt to restore their friendship.</p> - -<p>'Come, Eve, why are we quarrelling? I do not make -you jealous scenes about Miloradovitch.'</p> - -<p>'Far from it,' she said harshly.</p> - -<p>'Why should he want to marry you?' he began, his -anger rising again. 'What qualities have you? Clever, -seductive, and entertaining! But, on the other hand, -selfish, jealous, unkind, pernicious, indolent, vain. A -bad bargain. If he knew you as well as I.... Jealousy! -It amounts to madness.'</p> - -<p>'I am perhaps not jealous where Miloradovitch is -concerned,' she said.</p> - -<p>'Then spare me the compliment of being jealous of -me. You wreck affection; you will wreck your life -through your jealousy and exorbitance.'</p> - -<p>'No doubt,' she replied in a tone of so much sadness -that he became remorseful. He contrasted, moreover, -her violence, troublesome, inconvenient, as it often was, -with the standardised and distasteful little inanities of -Fru Thyregod and her like, and found Eve preferable.</p> - -<p>'Darling, you never defend yourself; it is very disarming.'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> -<p>But she would not accept the olive-branch he offered.</p> - -<p>'Sentimentality becomes you very badly, Julian; keep -it for Fru Thyregod.'</p> - -<p>'We have had enough of Fru Thyregod,' he said, -flushing.</p> - -<p>'It suits you to say so; I do not forget so easily. -Really, Julian, sometimes I think you very commonplace. -From the moment you arrived until to-day, you -have never been out of Fru Thyregod's pocket. Like -Alexander, once. Like any stray young man.'</p> - -<p>'Eve!' he said, in astonishment at the outrageous -accusation.</p> - -<p>'My little Julian, have you washed the lap-dog to-day? -Carl always says, "Mabel, you are fonder of your dogs -than of your children—you are really dreadful," but I -don't think that's quite fair,' said Eve, in so exact an -imitation of Fru Thyregod's voice and manner that -Julian was forced to smile.</p> - -<p>She went on,—</p> - -<p>'I expect too much of you. My imagination makes of -you something which you are not. I so despise the -common herd that I persuade myself that you are above -it. I can persuade myself of anything,' she said -scathingly, wounding him in the recesses of his most -treasured vanity—her good opinion of him; 'I persuade -myself that you are a Titan amongst men, almost a god, -but in reality, if I could see you without prejudice, what -are you fit for? to be Fru Thyregod's lover!'</p> - -<p>'You are mad,' he said, for there was no other reply.</p> - -<p>'When I am jealous, I am mad,' she flung at him.</p> - -<p>'But if you are jealous of me....' he said, appalled. -'Supposing you were ever in love, your jealousy would -know no bounds. It is a disease. It is the ruin of our -friendship.'</p> - -<p>'Entirely.'</p> - -<p>'You are inordinately perverse.'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> -<p>'Inordinately.'</p> - -<p>'Supposing I were to marry, I should not dare—what -an absurd thought—to introduce you to my wife.'</p> - -<p>A truly terrible expression came into her eyes; they -narrowed to little slits, and turned slightly inwards; as -though herself aware of it, she bent to pick the little -cyclamen.</p> - -<p>'Are you trying to tell me, Julian....'</p> - -<p>'You told me you were engaged to Miloradovitch.'</p> - -<p>She stood up, regardless, and he saw the tragic pallor -of her face. She tore the cyclamen to pieces beneath her -white fingers.</p> - -<p>'It is true, then?' she said, her voice dead.</p> - -<p>He began to laugh.</p> - -<p>'You do indeed persuade yourself very easily.'</p> - -<p>'Julian, you must tell me. You must. Is it true?'</p> - -<p>'If it were?'</p> - -<p>'I should have to kill you—or myself,' she replied with -the utmost gravity.</p> - -<p>'You are mad,' he said again, in the resigned tone of -one who states a perfectly established fact.</p> - -<p>'If I am mad, you are unutterably cruel,' she said, -twisting her fingers together; 'will you answer me, yes -or no? I believe it is true,' she rushed on, immolating -herself, 'you have fallen in love with some woman in -England, and she, naturally, with you. Who is she? -You have promised to marry her. You, whom I thought -so free and splendid, to load yourself with the inevitable -fetters!'</p> - -<p>'I should lose caste in your eyes?' he asked, thinking -to himself that Eve was, when roused, scarcely a -civilised being. 'But if you marry Miloradovitch you -will be submitting to the same fetters you think so -degrading.'</p> - -<p>'Miloradovitch,' she said impatiently, 'Miloradovitch -will no more ensnare me than have the score of people<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> -I have been engaged to since I last saw you. You are -still evading your answer.'</p> - -<p>'You will never marry?' he dwelt on his discovery.</p> - -<p>'Nobody that I loved,' she replied without hesitation, -'but, Julian, Julian, you don't answer my question?'</p> - -<p>'Would you marry me if I wanted you to?' he asked -carelessly.</p> - -<p>'Not for the world, but why keep me in suspense? -only answer me, are you trying to tell me that you have -fallen in love? if so, admit it, please, at once, and let -me go; don't you see, I am leaving Fru Thyregod on -one side, I ask you in all humility now, Julian.'</p> - -<p>'For perhaps the fiftieth time since you were thirteen,' -he said, smiling.</p> - -<p>'Have you tormented me long enough?'</p> - -<p>'Very well: I am in love with the Islands, and with -nothing and nobody else.'</p> - -<p>'Then why had Fru Thyregod her hair down her back? -you're lying to me, and I despise you doubly for it,' she -reverted, humble no longer, but aggressive.</p> - -<p>'Fru Thyregod again?' he said, bewildered.</p> - -<p>'How little I trust you,' she broke out; 'I believe -that you deceive me at every turn. Kato, too; you -spend hours in Kato's flat. What do you do there? -You write letters to people of whom I have never heard. -You dined with the Thyregods twice last week. Kato -sends you notes by hand from Herakleion when you are -in the country. You use the Islands as dust to throw -in my eyes, but I am not blinded.'</p> - -<p>'I have had enough of this!' he cried.</p> - -<p>'You are like everybody else,' she insisted; 'you -enjoy mean entanglements, and you cherish the idea of -marriage. You want a home, like everybody else. A -faithful wife. Children. I loathe children,' she said -violently. 'You are very different from me. You are -tame. I have deluded myself into thinking we were alike.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> -You are tame, respectable. A good citizen. You have -all the virtues. I will live to show you how different we -are. Ten years hence, you will say to your wife, "No, -my dear, I really cannot allow you to know that poor -Eve." And your wife, well trained, submissive, will -agree.'</p> - -<p>He shrugged his shoulders, accustomed to such storms, -and knowing that she only sought to goad him into a -rage.</p> - -<p>'In the meantime, go back to Fru Thyregod; why -trouble to lie to me? And to Kato, go back to Kato. -Write to the woman in England, too. I will go to -Miloradovitch, or to any of the others.'</p> - -<p>He was betrayed into saying,—</p> - -<p>'The accusation of mean entanglements comes badly -from your lips.'</p> - -<p>In her heart she guessed pretty shrewdly at his real -relation towards women: a self-imposed austerity, with -violent relapses that had no lasting significance, save to -leave him with his contemptuous distaste augmented. -His mind was too full of other matters. For Kato alone -he had a profound esteem.</p> - -<p>Eve answered his last remark,—</p> - -<p>'I will prove to you the little weight of my entanglements, -by dismissing Miloradovitch to-day; you have -only to say the word.'</p> - -<p>'You would do that—without remorse?'</p> - -<p>'Miloradovitch is nothing to me.'</p> - -<p>'You are something to him—perhaps everything.'</p> - -<p>'Cela ne me regarde pas,' she replied. 'Would you -do as much for me? Fru Thyregod, for instance? or -Kato?'</p> - -<p>Interested and curious, he said,—</p> - -<p>'To please you, I should give up Kato?'</p> - -<p>'You would not?'</p> - -<p>'Most certainly I should not. Why suggest it? Kato<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> -is your friend as much as mine. Are all women's friendships -so unstable?'</p> - -<p>'Be careful, Julian: you are on the quicksands.'</p> - -<p>'I have had enough of these topics,' he said, 'will -you leave them?'</p> - -<p>'No; I choose my own topics; you shan't dictate -to me.'</p> - -<p>'You would sacrifice Miloradovitch without a thought, -to please me—why should it please me?—but you would -not forgo the indulgence of your jealousy! I am not -grateful. Our senseless quarrels,' he said, 'over which -we squander so much anger and emotion.' But he did -not stop to question what lay behind their important -futility. He passed his hand wearily over his hair, -'I am deluded sometimes into believing in their reality -and sanity. You are too difficult. You ... you distort -and bewitch, until one expects to wake up from a -dream. Sometimes I think of you as a woman quite -apart from other women, but at other times I think you -live merely by and upon fictitious emotion and excitement. -Must your outlook be always so narrowly -personal? Kato, thank Heaven, is very different. I -shall take care to choose my friends amongst men, or -amongst women like Kato,' he continued, his exasperation -rising.</p> - -<p>'Julian, don't be so angry: it isn't my fault that I -hate politics.'</p> - -<p>He grew still angrier at her illogical short-cut to the -reproach which lay, indeed, unexpressed at the back -of his mind.</p> - -<p>'I never mentioned politics. I know better. No man -in his senses would expect politics from any woman so -demoralisingly feminine as yourself. Besides, that isn't -your rôle. Your rôle is to be soft, idle; a toy; a siren; -the negation of enterprise. Work and woman—the terms -contradict one another. The woman who works, or who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> -tolerates work, is only half a woman. The most you -can hope for,' he said with scorn, 'is to inspire—and -even that you do unconsciously, and very often quite -against your will. You sap our energy; you sap and -you destroy.'</p> - -<p>She had not often heard him speak with so much -bitterness, but she did not know that his opinions in -this more crystallised form dated from that slight -moment in which he had divined her own untrustworthiness.</p> - -<p>'You are very wise. I forget whether you are twenty-two -or twenty-three?'</p> - -<p>'Oh, you may be sarcastic. I only know that I will -never have my life wrecked by women. To-morrow the -elections take place, and, after that, whatever their -result, I belong to the Islands.'</p> - -<p>'I think I see you with a certain clearness,' she said -more gently, 'full of illusions, independence, and young -generosities—<i>nous passons tous par là</i>.'</p> - -<p>'Talk English, Eve, and be less cynical; if I am -twenty-two, as you reminded me, you are nineteen.'</p> - -<p>'If you could find a woman who was a help and not -a hindrance?' she suggested.</p> - -<p>'Ah!' he said, 'the Blue Bird! I am not likely to -be taken in; I am too well on my guard.—Look!' he -added, 'Fru Thyregod and your Russian friend; I leave -you to them,' and before Eve could voice her indignation -he had disappeared into the surrounding woods.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> - -<h2>IV</h2> - -<p>On the next day, the day of the elections, which was -also the anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, -Herakleion blossomed suddenly, and from the earliest -hour, into a striped and fluttering gaudiness. The -sun shone down upon a white town beflagged into an -astonishing gaiety. Everywhere was whiteness, whiteness, -and brilliantly coloured flags. White, green, -and orange, dazzling in the sun, vivid in the breeze. -And, keyed up to match the intensity of the colour, -the band blared brassily, unremittingly, throughout -the day from the centre of the <i>platia</i>.</p> - -<p>A parrot-town, glaring and screeching; a monkey-town, -gibbering, excited, inconsequent. All the shops, -save the sweet-shops, were shut, and the inhabitants -flooded into the streets. Not only had they decked -their houses with flags, they had also decked themselves -with ribbons, their women with white dresses, -their children with bright bows, their carriages with -paper streamers, their horses with sunbonnets. Bands -of young men, straw-hatted, swept arm-in-arm down -the pavements, adding to the din with mouth organs, -mirlitons, and tin trumpets. The trams flaunted -posters in the colours of the contending parties. -Immense char-à-bancs, roofed over with brown holland -and drawn by teams of mules, their harness hung with -bells and red tassels, conveyed the voters to the polling-booths -amid the cheers and imprecations of the crowd.</p> - -<p>Herakleion abandoned itself deliriously to political -carnival.</p> - -<p>In the immense, darkened rooms of the houses on -the <i>platia</i>, the richer Greeks idled, concealing their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> -anxiety. It was tacitly considered beneath their -dignity to show themselves in public during that day. -They could but await the fruition or the failure of -their activities during the preceding weeks. Heads of -households were for the most part morose, absorbed -in calculations and regrets. Old Christopoulos, looking -more bleached than usual, wished he had been more -generous. That secretaryship for Alexander.... In -the great sala of his house he paced restlessly up and -down, biting his finger nails, and playing on his fingers -the tune of the many thousand drachmæ he might -profitably have expended. The next election would -not take place for five years. At the next election he -would be a great deal more lavish.</p> - -<p>He had made the same resolution at every election -during the past thirty years.</p> - -<p>In the background, respectful of his silence, themselves -dwarfed and diminutive in the immense height -of the room, little knots of his relatives and friends -whispered together, stirring cups of tisane. Heads -were very close together, glances at old Christopoulos -very frequent. Visitors, isolated or in couples, strolled -in unannounced and informally, stayed for a little, -strolled away again. A perpetual movement of such -circulation rippled through the houses in the <i>platia</i> -throughout the day, rumour assiduous in its wake. -Fru Thyregod alone, with her fat, silly laugh, did her -best wherever she went to lighten the funereal oppression -of the atmosphere. The Greeks she visited were -not grateful. Unlike the populace in the streets, they -preferred taking their elections mournfully.</p> - -<p>By midday the business of voting was over, and in -the houses of the <i>platia</i> the Greeks sat round their -luncheon-tables with the knowledge that the vital -question was now decided, though the answer remained -as yet unknown, and that in the polling-booths an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> -army of clerks sat feverishly counting, while the -crowd outside, neglectful of its meal, swarmed noisily -in the hope of news. In the houses of the <i>platia</i>, on -this one day of the year, the Greeks kept open table. -Each vast dining-room, carefully darkened and indistinguishable -in its family likeness from its neighbour -in the house on either side, offered its hospitality under -the inevitable chandelier. In each, the host greeted -the new-comer with the same perfunctory smile. In -each, the busy servants came and went, carrying -dishes and jugs of orangeade—for Levantine hospitality, -already heavily strained, boggled at wine—among -the bulky and old-fashioned sideboards. All -joyousness was absent from these gatherings, and the -closed shutters served to exclude, not only the heat, -but also the strains of the indefatigable band playing -on the <i>platia</i>.</p> - -<p>Out in the streets the popular excitement hourly -increased, for if the morning had been devoted to -politics, the afternoon and evening were to be devoted -to the annual feast and holiday of the Declaration of -Independence. The national colours, green and orange, -seemed trebled in the town. They hung from every -balcony and were reproduced in miniature in every -buttonhole. Only here and there an islander in his -fustanelle walked quickly with sulky and averted -eyes, rebelliously innocent of the brilliant cocarde, -and far out to sea the rainbow islands shimmered with -never a flag to stain the distant whiteness of the houses -upon Aphros.</p> - -<p>The houses of the <i>platia</i> excelled all others in the -lavishness of their patriotic decorations. The balconies -of the club were draped in green and orange, with the -arms of Herakleion arranged in the centre in electric -lights for the evening illumination. The Italian -Consulate drooped its complimentary flag. The house<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> -of Platon Malteios—Premier or ex-Premier? no one -knew—was almost too ostentatiously patriotic. The -cathedral, on the opposite side, had its steps carpeted -with red and the spaciousness of its porch festooned -with the colours. From the central window of the -Davenant house, opposite the sea, a single listless -banner hung in motionless folds.</p> - -<p>It had, earlier in the day, occasioned a controversy.</p> - -<p>Julian had stood in the centre of the frescoed drawing-room, -flushed and constrained.</p> - -<p>'Father, that flag on our house insults the Islands. -It can be seen even from Aphros!'</p> - -<p>'My dear boy, better that it should be seen from -Aphros than that we should offend Herakleion.'</p> - -<p>'What will the islanders think?'</p> - -<p>'They are accustomed to seeing it there every -year.'</p> - -<p>'If I had been at home....'</p> - -<p>'When this house is yours, Julian, you will no doubt -do as you please; so long as it is mine, I beg you not -to interfere.'</p> - -<p>Mr Davenant had spoken in his curtest tones. He -had added,—</p> - -<p>'I shall go to the cathedral this afternoon.'</p> - -<p>The service in the cathedral annually celebrated -the independence of Herakleion. Julian slipped out -of the house, meaning to mix with the ill-regulated -crowd that began to collect on the <i>platia</i> to watch for -the arrival of the notables, but outside the door of -the club he was discovered by Alexander Christopoulos -who obliged him to follow him upstairs to the Christopoulos -drawing-room.</p> - -<p>'My father is really too gloomy for me to confront -alone,' Alexander said, taking Julian's arm and urging -him along; 'also I have spent the morning in the club, -which exasperates him. He likes me to sit at home<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> -while he stands looking at me and mournfully shaking -his head.'</p> - -<p>They came into the sala together, where old Christopoulos -paced up and down in front of the shuttered -windows, and a score of other people sat whispering -over their cups of tisane. White dresses, dim mirrors, -and the dull gilt of furniture gleamed here and there -in the shadows of the vast room.</p> - -<p>'Any news? any news?' the banker asked of the -two young men.</p> - -<p>'You know quite well, father, that no results are to -be declared until seven o'clock this evening.'</p> - -<p>Alexander opened a section of a Venetian blind, -and as a shaft of sunlight fell startlingly across the -floor a blare of music burst equally startlingly upon -the silence.</p> - -<p>'The <i>platia</i> is crowded already,' said Alexander, -looking out.</p> - -<p>The hum of the crowd became audible, mingled -with the music; explosions of laughter, and some -unexplained applause. The shrill cry of a seller of -iced water rang immediately beneath the window. -The band in the centre continued to shriek remorselessly -an antiquated air of the Paris boulevards.</p> - -<p>'At what time is the procession due?' asked Fru -Thyregod over Julian's shoulder.</p> - -<p>'At five o'clock; it should arrive at any moment,' -Julian said, making room for the Danish Excellency.</p> - -<p>'I adore processions,' cried Fru Thyregod, clapping -her hands, and looking brightly from Julian to -Alexander.</p> - -<p>Alexander whispered to Julie Lafarge, who had -come up,—</p> - -<p>'I am sure Fru Thyregod has gone from house to -house and from Legation to Legation, and has had a -meal at each to-day.'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> -<p>Somebody suggested,—</p> - -<p>'Let us open the shutters and watch the procession -from the balconies.'</p> - -<p>'Oh, what a good idea!' cried Fru Thyregod, -clapping her hands again and executing a pirouette.</p> - -<p>Down in the <i>platia</i> an indefinite movement was -taking place; the band stopped playing for the first -time that day, and began shuffling with all its instruments -to one side. Voices were then heard raised in -tones of authority. A cleavage appeared in the crowd, -which grew in length and width as though a wedge -were being gradually driven into that reluctant confusion -of humanity.</p> - -<p>'A path for the procession,' said old Christopoulos, -who, although not pleased at that frivolous flux of -his family and guests on to the balconies of his house, -had joined them, overcome by his natural curiosity.</p> - -<p>The path cut in the crowd now ran obliquely across -the <i>platia</i> from the end of the rue Royale to the steps -of the cathedral opposite, and upon it the confetti -with which the whole <i>platia</i> was no doubt strewn became -visible. The police, with truncheons in their hands, -were pressing the people back to widen the route still -further. They wore their gala hats, three-cornered, -with upright plumes of green and orange nodding as -they walked.</p> - -<p>'Look at Sterghiou,' said Alexander.</p> - -<p>The Chief of Police rode vaingloriously down the -route looking from left to right, and saluting with his -free hand. The front of his uniform was crossed with -broad gold hinges, and plaits of yellow braid disappeared -mysteriously into various pockets. One -deduced whistles; pencils; perhaps a knife. Although -he did not wear feathers in his hat, one knew that only -the utmost self-restraint had preserved him from them.</p> - -<p>Here the band started again with a march, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> -Sterghiou's horse shied violently and nearly unseated -him.</p> - -<p>'The troops!' said old Christopoulos with emotion.</p> - -<p>Debouching from the rue Royale, the army came -marching four abreast. As it was composed of only -four hundred men, and as it never appeared on any -other day of the year, its general Panaïoannou always -mobilised it in its entirety on the national festival. -This entailed the temporary closing of the casino in -order to release the croupiers, who were nearly all in -the ranks, and led to a yearly dispute between the -General and the board of administration.</p> - -<p>'There was once a croupier,' said Alexander, 'who -was admitted to the favour of a certain grand-duchess -until the day when, indiscreetly coming into the -dressing-room where the lady was arranging and improving -her appearance, he said, through sheer force -of habit, "Madame, les jeux sont faits?" and was -dismissed for ever by her reply, "Rien ne va plus."'</p> - -<p>The general himself rode in the midst of his troops, -in his sky-blue uniform, to which the fantasy of his -Buda-Pesth costumier had added for the occasion -a slung Hussar jacket of white cloth. His gray moustache -was twisted fiercely upwards, and curved like -a scimitar across his face. He rode with his hand on -his hip, slowly scanning the windows and balconies -of the <i>platia</i>, which by now were crowded with people, -gravely saluting his friends as he passed. Around him -marched his bodyguard of six, a captain and five men; -the captain carried in one hand a sword, and in the -other—nobody knew why—a long frond of palm.</p> - -<p>The entire army tramped by, hot, stout, beaming, -and friendly. At one moment some one threw down -a handful of coins from a window, and the ranks were -broken in a scramble for the coppers. Julian, who -was leaning apart in a corner of his balcony, heard a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> -laugh like a growl behind him as the enormous hand -of Grbits descended on his shoulder.</p> - -<p>'Remember the lesson, young man: if you are -called upon to deal with the soldiers of Herakleion, a -fistful of silver amongst them will scatter them.'</p> - -<p>Julian thought apprehensively that they must be -overheard, but Grbits continued in supreme unconsciousness,—</p> - -<p>'Look at their army, composed of shop-assistants -and croupiers. Look at their general—a general in -his spare moments, but in the serious business of his -life a banker and an intriguer like the rest of them. -I doubt whether he has ever seen anything more dead -in his life than a dead dog in a gutter. I could pick -him up and squash in his head like an egg.'</p> - -<p>Grbits extended his arm and slowly unfolded the -fingers of his enormous hand. At the same time he -gave his great laugh that was like the laugh of a good-humoured -ogre.</p> - -<p>'At your service, young man,' he said, displaying -the full breadth of his palm to Julian, 'whenever you -stand in need of it. The Stavridists will be returned -to-day; lose no time; show them your intentions.'</p> - -<p>He impelled Julian forward to the edge of the balcony -and pointed across to the Davenant house.</p> - -<p>'That flag, young man: see to it that it disappears -within the hour after the results of the elections are -announced.'</p> - -<p>The army was forming itself into two phalanxes on -either side of the cathedral steps. Panaïoannou caracoled -up and down shouting his orders, which were -taken up and repeated by the busy officers on foot. -Meanwhile the notables in black coats were arriving -in a constant stream that flowed into the cathedral; -old Christopoulos had already left the house to attend -the religious ceremony; the foreign Ministers and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> -Consuls attended out of compliment to Herakleion; -Madame Lafarge had rolled down the route in her -barouche with her bearded husband; Malteios had -crossed the <i>platia</i> from his own house, and Stavridis -came, accompanied by his wife and daughters. Still -the band played on, the crowd laughed, cheered, or -murmured in derision, and the strident cries of the -water-sellers rose from all parts of the <i>platia</i>.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the band ceased to play, and in the hush -only the hum of the crowd continued audible.</p> - -<p>The religious procession came walking very slowly -from the rue Royale, headed by a banner and by a -file of young girls, walking two by two, in white dresses, -with wreaths of roses on their heads. As they walked -they scattered sham roses out of baskets, the gesture -reminiscent of the big picture in the Senate-room. -It was customary for the Premier of the Republic to -walk alone, following these young girls, black and -grave in his frock-coat after their virginal white, but -on this occasion, as no one knew who the actual Premier -was, a blank space was left to represent the problematical -absentee. Following the space came the Premier's -habitual escort, a posse of police; it should have been -a platoon of soldiers, but Panaïoannou always refused -to consent to such a diminution of his army.</p> - -<p>'They say,' Grbits remarked to Julian in this connection, -'that the general withdraws even the sentries -from the frontier to swell his ranks.'</p> - -<p>'Herakleion is open to invasion,' said Julian, smiling.</p> - -<p>Grbits replied sententiously, with the air of one -creating a new proverb,—</p> - -<p>'Herakleion is open to invasion, but who wants to -invade Herakleion?'</p> - -<p>The crowd watched the passage of the procession -with the utmost solemnity. Not a sound was now -heard but the monotonous step of feet. Religious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> -awe had hushed political hilarity. Archbishop and -bishops; archmandrites and <i>papás</i> of the country -districts, passed in a mingling of scarlet, purple and -black. All the pomp of Herakleion had been pressed -into service—all the clamorous, pretentious pomp, -shouting for recognition, beating on a hollow drum; -designed to impress the crowd; and perhaps, also, -to impress, beyond the crowd, the silent Islands that -possessed no army, no clergy, no worldly trappings, but -that suffered and struggled uselessly, pitiably, against -the tinsel tyrant in vain but indestructible rebellion.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * *</p> - -<p>As five o'clock drew near, the entire population -seemed to be collected in the <i>platia</i>. The white streak -that had marked the route of the procession had long -ago disappeared, and the square was now, seen from -above, only a dense and shifting mass of people. In -the Christopoulos drawing-room, where Julian still -lingered, talking to Grbits and listening to the alternate -foolishness, fanaticism, and ferocious good-humour of -the giant, the Greeks rallied in numbers with only one -topic on their lips. Old Christopoulos was frankly -biting his nails and glancing at the clock; Alexander -but thinly concealed his anxiety under a dribble of -his usual banter. The band had ceased playing, and -the subtle ear could detect an inflection in the very -murmur of the crowd.</p> - -<p>'Let us go on to the balcony again,' Grbits said to -Julian; 'the results will be announced from the steps -of Malteios' house.'</p> - -<p>They went out; some of the Greeks followed them, -and all pressed behind, near the window openings.</p> - -<p>'It is a more than usually decisive day for Herakleion,' -said old Christopoulos, and Julian knew that the words -were spoken at, although not to, him.</p> - -<p>He felt that the Greeks looked upon him as an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> -intruder, wishing him away so that they might express -their opinions freely, but in a spirit of contrariness -he remained obstinately.</p> - -<p>A shout went up suddenly from the crowd: a little -man dressed in black, with a top-hat, and a great -many white papers in his hand, had appeared in the -frame of Malteios' front-door. He stood on the steps, -coughed nervously, and dropped his papers.</p> - -<p>'Inefficient little rat of a secretary!' cried Alexander -in a burst of fury.</p> - -<p>'Listen!' said Grbits.</p> - -<p>A long pause of silence from the whole <i>platia</i>, in -which one thin voice quavered, reaching only the front -row of the crowd.</p> - -<p>'Stavridis has it,' Grbits said quietly, who had -been craning over the edge of the balcony. His eyes -twinkled maliciously, delightedly, at Julian across -the group of mortified Greeks. 'An immense majority,' -he invented, enjoying himself.</p> - -<p>Julian was already gone. Slipping behind old -Christopoulos, whose saffron face had turned a dirty -plum colour, he made his way downstairs and out -into the street. A species of riot, in which the police, -having failed successfully to intervene, were enthusiastically -joining, had broken out in the <i>platia</i>. Some -shouted for Stavridis, some for Malteios; some railed -derisively against the Islands. People threw their -hats into the air, waved their arms, and kicked up -their legs. Some of them were vague as to the trend -of their own opinions, others extremely determined, -but all were agreed about making as much noise as -possible. Julian passed unchallenged to his father's -house.</p> - -<p>Inside the door he found Aristotle talking with -three islanders. They laid hold of him, urgent though -respectful, searching his face with eager eyes.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> -<p>'It means revolt at last; you will not desert us, -Kyrie?'</p> - -<p>He replied,—</p> - -<p>'Come with me, and you will see.'</p> - -<p>They followed him up the stairs, pressing closely -after him. On the landing he met Eve and Kato, -coming out of the drawing-room. The singer was -flushed, two gold wheat-ears trembled in her hair, and -she had thrown open the front of her dress. Eve hung -on her arm.</p> - -<p>'Julian!' Kato exclaimed, 'you have heard, Platon -has gone?'</p> - -<p>In her excitement she inadvertently used Malteios' -Christian name.</p> - -<p>'It means,' he replied, 'that Stavridis, now in power, -will lose no time in bringing against the Islands all -the iniquitous reforms we know he contemplates. -It means that the first step must be taken by us.'</p> - -<p>His use of the pronoun ranged himself, Kato, -Aristotle, the three islanders, and the invisible Islands -into an instant confederacy. Kato responded to it,—</p> - -<p>'Thank God for this.'</p> - -<p>They waited in complete confidence for his next -words. He had shed his aloofness, and all his efficiency -of active leadership was to the fore.</p> - -<p>'Where is my father?'</p> - -<p>'He went to the Cathedral; he has not come home -yet, Kyrie.'</p> - -<p>Julian passed into the drawing-room, followed by -Eve and Kato and the four men. Outside the open -window, fastened to the balcony, flashed the green -and orange flag of Herakleion. Julian took a knife -from his pocket, and, cutting the cord that held it, -withdrew flag and flag-staff into the room and flung -it on to the ground.</p> - -<p>'Take it away,' he said to the islanders, 'or my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> -father will order it to be replaced. And if he orders -another to be hung out in its place,' he added, looking -at them with severity, 'remember there is no other -flag in the house, and none to be bought in Herakleion.'</p> - -<p>At that moment a servant from the country-house -came hurriedly into the room, drew Julian unceremoniously -aside, and broke into an agitated recital in a -low voice. Eve heard Julian saying,—</p> - -<p>'Nicolas sends for me? But he should have given -a reason. I cannot come now, I cannot leave Herakleion.'</p> - -<p>And the servant,—</p> - -<p>'Kyrie, the major-domo impressed upon me that I -must on no account return without you. Something -has occurred, something serious. What it is I do not -know. The carriage is waiting at the back entrance; -we could not drive across the <i>platia</i> on account of the -crowds.'</p> - -<p>'I shall have to go, I suppose,' Julian said to Eve -and Kato. 'I will go at once, and will return, if possible, -this evening. Nicolas would not send without an -excellent reason, though he need not have made this -mystery. Possibly a message from Aphros.... In -any case, I must go.'</p> - -<p>'I will come with you,' Eve said unexpectedly.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> - -<h2>V</h2> - -<p>In almost unbroken silence they drove out to the -country-house, in a hired victoria, to the quick, soft -trot of the two little lean horses, away from the heart of -the noisy town; past the race-course with its empty -stands; under the ilex-avenue in a tunnel of cool -darkness; along the road, redolent with magnolias -in the warmth of the evening; through the village, -between the two white lodges; and round the bend of -the drive between the bushes of eucalyptus. Eve had -spoken, but he had said abruptly,—</p> - -<p>'Don't talk; I want to think,' and she, after a -little gasp of astonished indignation, had relapsed -languorous into her corner, her head propped on -her hand, and her profile alone visible to her cousin. -He saw, in the brief glance that he vouchsafed her, -that her red mouth looked more than usually sulky, -in fact not unlike the mouth of a child on the point -of tears, a very invitation to inquiry, but, more from -indifference than deliberate wisdom, he was not -disposed to take up the challenge. He too sat silent, -his thoughts flying over the day, weighing the -consequences of his own action, trying to forecast -the future. He was far away from Eve, and she knew -it. At times he enraged and exasperated her almost -beyond control. His indifference was an outrage on -her femininity. She knew him to be utterly beyond -her influence: taciturn when he chose, ill-tempered -when he chose, exuberant when he chose, rampageous, -wild; insulting to her at moments; domineering -whatever his mood, and regardless of her wishes; yet -at the same time unconscious of all these things. Alone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> -with her now, he had completely forgotten her presence -by his side.</p> - -<p>Her voice broke upon his reflections,—</p> - -<p>'Thinking of the Islands, Julian?' and her words -joining like a cogwheel smoothly on to the current of -his mind, he answered naturally,—</p> - -<p>'Yes,'</p> - -<p>'I thought as much. I have something to tell you. -You may not be interested. I am no longer engaged -to Miloradovitch.'</p> - -<p>'Since when?'</p> - -<p>'Since yesterday evening. Since you left me, and -ran away into the woods. I was angry, and vented -my anger on him.'</p> - -<p>'Was that fair?'</p> - -<p>'He has you to thank. It has happened before—with -others.'</p> - -<p>Roused for a second from his absorption, he impatiently -shrugged his shoulders, and turned his back, -and looked out over the sea. Eve was again silent, -brooding and resentful in her corner. Presently he -turned towards her, and said angrily, reverting to the -Islands,—</p> - -<p>'You are the vainest and most exorbitant woman -I know. You resent one's interest in anything but -yourself.'</p> - -<p>As she did not answer, he added,—</p> - -<p>'How sulky you look; it's very unbecoming.'</p> - -<p>Was no sense of proportion or of responsibility -ever to weigh upon her beautiful shoulders? He was -irritated, yet he knew that his irritation was half-assumed, -and that in his heart he was no more annoyed -by her fantasy than by the fantasy of Herakleion. -They matched each other; their intangibility, their -instability, were enough to make a man shake his fists -to Heaven, yet he was beginning to believe that their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> -colour and romance—for he never dissociated Eve -and Herakleion in his mind—were the dearest treasures -of his youth. He turned violently and amazingly -upon her.</p> - -<p>'Eve, I sometimes hate you, damn you; but you -are the rainbow of my days.'</p> - -<p>She smiled, and, enlightened, he perceived with -interest, curiosity, and amused resignation, the clearer -grouping of the affairs of his youthful years. Fantasy -to youth! Sobriety to middle-age! Carried away, -he said to her,—</p> - -<p>'Eve! I want adventure, Eve!'</p> - -<p>Her eyes lit up in instant response, but he could not -read her inward thought, that the major part of his -adventure should be, not Aphros, but herself. He -noted, however, her lighted eyes, and leaned over to -her.</p> - -<p>'You are a born adventurer, Eve, also.'</p> - -<p>She remained silent, but her eyes continued to dwell -on him, and to herself she was thinking, always sardonic -although the matter was of such perennial, such all-eclipsing -importance to her,—</p> - -<p>'A la bonne heure, he realises my existence.'</p> - -<p>'What a pity you are not a boy; we could have -seen the adventure of the Islands through together.'</p> - -<p>('The Islands always!' she thought ruefully.)</p> - -<p>'I should like to cross to Aphros to-night,' he murmured, -with absent eyes....</p> - -<p>('Gone again,' she thought. 'I held him for a -moment.')</p> - -<p class="space-above">When they reached the house no servants were -visible, but in reply to the bell a young servant appeared, -scared, white-faced, and, as rapidly disappearing, -was replaced by the old major-domo. He burst open -the door into the passage, a crowd of words pressing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> -on each other's heels in his mouth; he had expected -Julian alone; when he saw Eve, who was idly turning -over the letters that awaited her, he clapped his hand -tightly over his lips, and stood, struggling with his -speech, balancing himself in his arrested impetus on -his toes.</p> - -<p>'Well, Nicolas?' said Julian.</p> - -<p>The major-domo exploded, removing his hand from -his mouth,—</p> - -<p>'Kyrie! a word alone....' and as abruptly replaced -the constraining fingers.</p> - -<p>Julian followed him through the swing door into -the servants' quarters, where the torrent broke loose.</p> - -<p>'Kyrie, a disaster! I have sent men with a stretcher. -I remained in the house myself looking for your return. -Father Paul—yes, yes, it is he—drowned—yes, -drowned—at the bottom of the garden. Come, Kyrie, -for the love of God. Give directions. I am too old a -man. God be praised, you have come. Only hasten. -The men are there already with lanterns.'</p> - -<p>He was clinging helplessly to Julian's wrist, and -kept moving his fingers up and down Julian's arm, -twitching fingers that sought reassurance from firmer -muscles, in a distracted way, while his eyes beseechingly -explored Julian's face.</p> - -<p>Julian, shocked, jarred, incredulous, shook off the -feeble fingers in irritation. The thing was an outrage -on the excitement of the day. The transition to tragedy -was so violent that he wished, in revolt, to disbelieve -it.</p> - -<p>'You must be mistaken, Nicolas!'</p> - -<p>'Kyrie, I am not mistaken. The body is lying on -the shore. You can see it there. I have sent lanterns -and a stretcher. I beg of you to come.'</p> - -<p>He spoke, tugging at Julian's sleeve, and as Julian -remained unaccountably immovable he sank to his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> -knees, clasping his hands and raising imploring -eyes. His fustanelle spread its pleats in a circle on the -stone floor. His story had suddenly become vivid to -Julian with the words, 'The body is lying on the shore'; -'drowned,' he had said before, but that had summoned -no picture. The body was lying on the shore. The -body! Paul, brisk, alive, familiar, now a body, merely. -The body! had a wave, washing forward, deposited -it gently, and retreated without its burden? or had -it floated, pale-faced under the stars, till some man, -looking by chance down at the sea from the terrace at -the foot of the garden, caught that pale, almost phosphorescent -gleam rocking on the swell of the water?</p> - -<p>The old major-domo followed Julian's stride between -the lemon-trees, obsequious and conciliatory. The -windows of the house shone behind them, the house -of tragedy, where Eve remained as yet uninformed, -uninvaded by the solemnity, the reality, of the present. -Later, she would have to be told that a man's figure -had been wrenched from their intimate and daily -circle. The situation appeared grotesquely out of -keeping with the foregoing day, and with the wide -and gentle night.</p> - -<p>From the paved walk under the pergola of gourds -rough steps led down to the sea. Julian, pausing, -perceived around the yellow squares of the lanterns -the indistinct figures of men, and heard their low, -disconnected talk breaking intermittently on the -continuous wash of the waves. The sea that he loved -filled him with a sudden revulsion for the indifference -of its unceasing movement after its murder of a man. -It should, in decency, have remained quiet, silent; -impenetrable, unrepentant, perhaps; inscrutable, but -at least silent; its murmur echoed almost as the murmur -of a triumph....</p> - -<p>He descended the steps. As he came into view, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> -men's fragmentary talk died away; their dim group -fell apart; he passed between them, and stood beside -the body of Paul.</p> - -<p>Death. He had never seen it. As he saw it now, -he thought that he had never beheld anything so -incontestably real as its irrevocable stillness. Here -was finality; here was defeat beyond repair. In the -face of this judgment no revolt was possible. Only -acceptance was possible. The last word in life's argument -had been spoken by an adversary for long remote, -forgotten; an adversary who had remained ironically -dumb before the babble, knowing that in his own -time, with one word, he could produce the irrefutable -answer. There was something positively satisfying -in the faultlessness of the conclusion. He had not -thought that death would be like this. Not cruel, -not ugly, not beautiful, not terrifying—merely unanswerable. -He wondered now at the multitude of -sensations that had chased successively across his -mind or across his vision: the elections, Fru Thyregod, -the jealousy of Eve, his incredulity and resentment -at the news, his disinclination for action, his indignation -against the indifference of the sea; these -things were vain when here, at his feet, lay the -ultimate solution.</p> - -<p>Paul lay on his back, his arms straight down his -sides, and his long, wiry body closely sheathed in the -wet soutane. The square toes of his boots stuck up, -close together, like the feet of a swathed mummy. -His upturned face gleamed white with a tinge of green -in the light of the lanterns, and appeared more luminous -than they. So neat, so orderly he lay; but his hair, -alone disordered, fell in wet red wisps across his neck -and along the ground behind his head.</p> - -<p>At that moment from the direction of Herakleion -there came a long hiss and a rush of bright gold up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> -into the sky; there was a crackle of small explosions, -and fountains of gold showered against the night as -the first fireworks went up from the quays. Rockets -soared, bursting into coloured stars among the real -stars, and plumes of golden light spread themselves -dazzlingly above the sea. Faint sounds of cheering -were borne upon the breeze.</p> - -<p>The men around the body of the priest waited, -ignorant and bewildered, relieved that some one had -come to take command. Their eyes were bent upon -Julian as he stood looking down; they thought he was -praying for the dead. Presently he became aware -of their expectation, and pronounced with a start,—</p> - -<p>'Bind up his hair!'</p> - -<p>Fingers hastened clumsily to deal with the stringy -red locks; the limp head was supported, and the hair -knotted somehow into a semblance of its accustomed -roll. The old major-domo quavered in a guilty voice, -as though taking the blame for carelessness,—</p> - -<p>'The hat is lost, Kyrie.'</p> - -<p>Julian let his eyes travel over the little group of -men, islanders all, with an expression of searching -inquiry.</p> - -<p>'Which of you made this discovery?'</p> - -<p>It appeared that one of them, going to the edge of -the sea in expectation of the fireworks, had noticed, -not the darkness of the body, but the pallor of the face, -in the water not far out from the rocks. He had waded -in and drawn the body ashore. Dead Paul lay there -deaf and indifferent to this account of his own finding.</p> - -<p>'No one can explain....'</p> - -<p>Ah, no! and he, who could have explained, was -beyond the reach of their curiosity. Julian looked -at the useless lips, unruffled even by a smile of sarcasm. -He had known Paul all his life, had learnt from him, -travelled with him, eaten with him, chaffed him lightly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> -but never, save in that one moment when he had -gripped the priest by the wrist and had looked with -steadying intention into his eyes, had their intimate -personalities brushed in passing. Julian had no genius -for friendship.... He began to see that this death -had ended an existence which had run parallel with, -but utterly walled off from, his own.</p> - -<p>In shame the words tore themselves from him,—</p> - -<p>'Had he any trouble?'</p> - -<p>The men slowly, gravely, mournfully shook their -heads. They could not tell. The priest had moved -amongst them, charitable, even saintly; yes, saintly, -and one did not expect confidences of a priest. A -priest was a man who received the confidences of other -men. Julian heard, and, possessed by a strong desire, -a necessity, for self-accusation, he said to them in a -tone of urgent and impersonal Justice, as one who -makes a declaration, expecting neither protest nor -acquiescence,—</p> - -<p>'I should have inquired into his loneliness.'</p> - -<p>They were slightly startled, but, in their ignorance, -not over-surprised, only wondering why he delayed -in giving the order to move the body on to the stretcher -and carry it up to the church. Farther up the coast, -the rockets continued to soar, throwing out bubbles -of green and red and orange, fantastically tawdry. -Julian remained staring at the unresponsive corpse, -repeating sorrowfully,—</p> - -<p>'I should have inquired—yes, I should have inquired—into -his loneliness.'</p> - -<p>He spoke with infinite regret, learning a lesson, -shedding a particle of his youth. He had taken for -granted that other men's lives were as promising, as -full of dissimulated eagerness, as his own. He had -walked for many hours up and down Paul's study, -lost in an audible monologue, expounding his theories,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> -tossing his rough head, emphasising, enlarging, making -discoveries, intent on his egotism, hewing out his -convictions, while the priest sat by the table, leaning -his head on his hand, scarcely contributing a word, -always listening. During those hours, surely, his -private troubles had been forgotten? Or had they -been present, gnawing, beneath the mask of sympathy? -A priest was a man who received the confidences of -other men!</p> - -<p>'Carry him up,' Julian said, 'carry him up to the -church.'</p> - -<p>He walked away alone as the dark cortège set itself -in movement, his mind strangely accustomed to the -fact that Paul would no longer frequent their house -and that the long black figure would no longer stroll, -tall and lean, between the lemon-trees in the garden. -The fact was more simple and more easily acceptable -than he could have anticipated. It seemed already -quite an old-established fact. He remembered with -a shock of surprise, and a raising of his eyebrows, that -he yet had to communicate it to Eve. He knew it so -well himself that he thought every one else must know -it too. He was immeasurably more distressed by the -tardy realisation of his own egotism in regard to Paul, -than by the fact of Paul's death.</p> - -<p>He walked very slowly, delaying the moment when -he must speak to Eve. He sickened at the prospect of -the numerous inevitable inquiries that would be made -to him by both his father and his uncle. He would -never hint to them that the priest had had a private -trouble. He rejoiced to remember his former loyalty, -and to know that Eve remained ignorant of that extraordinary, -unexplained conversation when Paul had -talked about the mice. Mice in the church! He, -Julian, must see to the decent covering of the body. -And of the face, especially of the face.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> -<p>An immense golden wheel flared out of the darkness; -whirled, and died away above the sea.</p> - -<p>In the dim church the men had set down the stretcher -before the iconostase. Julian felt his way cautiously -amongst the rush-bottomed chairs. The men were -standing about the stretcher, their fishing caps in -their hands, awed into a whispering mysticism which -Julian's voice harshly interrupted,—</p> - -<p>'Go for a cloth, one of you—the largest cloth you -can find.'</p> - -<p>He had spoken loudly in defiance of the melancholy -peace of the church, that received so complacently -within its ready precincts the visible remains from -which the spirit, troubled and uncompanioned in life, -had fled. He had always thought the church complacent, -irritatingly remote from pulsating human -existence, but never more so than now when it accepted -the dead body as by right, firstly within its walls, and -lastly within its ground, to decompose and rot, the -body of its priest, among the bodies of other once -vital and much-enduring men.</p> - -<p>'Kyrie, we can find only two large cloths, one a -dust-sheet, and one a linen cloth to spread over the -altar. Which are we to use?'</p> - -<p>'Which is the larger?'</p> - -<p>'Kyrie, the dust-sheet, but the altar-cloth is of linen -edged with lace.'</p> - -<p>'Use the dust-sheet; dust to dust,' said Julian -bitterly.</p> - -<p>Shocked and uncomprehending, they obeyed. The -black figure now became a white expanse, under which -the limbs and features defined themselves as the folds -sank into place.</p> - -<p>'He is completely covered over?'</p> - -<p>'Completely, Kyrie.'</p> - -<p>'The mice cannot run over his face?'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p> -<p>'Kyrie, no!'</p> - -<p>'Then no more can be done until one of you ride -into Herakleion for the doctor.'</p> - -<p>He left them, re-entering the garden by the side-gate -which Paul had himself constructed with his -capable, carpenter's hands. There was now no further -excuse for delay; he must exchange the darkness for -the unwelcome light, and must share out his private -knowledge to Eve. Those men, fisher-folk, simple -folk, had not counted as human spectators, but rather -as part of the brotherhood of night, nature, and the -stars.</p> - -<p>He waited for Eve in the drawing-room, having -assured himself that she had been told nothing, and -there, presently, he saw her come in, her heavy hair -dressed high, a fan and a flower drooping from her hand, -and a fringed Spanish shawl hanging its straight silk -folds from her escaping shoulders. Before her indolence, -and her slumbrous delicacy, he hesitated. He wildly -thought that he would allow the news to wait. Tragedy, -reality, were at that moment so far removed from her.... -She said in delight, coming up to him, and -forgetful that they were in the house in obedience to -a mysterious and urgent message,—</p> - -<p>'Julian, have you seen the fireworks? Come out -into the garden. We'll watch.'</p> - -<p>He put his arm through her bare arm,—</p> - -<p>'Eve, I must tell you something.'</p> - -<p>'Fru Thyregod?' she cried, and the difficulty of -his task became all but insurmountable.</p> - -<p>'Something serious. Something about Father Paul.'</p> - -<p>Her strange eyes gave him a glance of undefinable -suspicion.</p> - -<p>'What about him?'</p> - -<p>'He has been found, in the water, at the bottom of -the garden.'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> -<p>'In the water?'</p> - -<p>'In the sea. Drowned.'</p> - -<p>He told her all the circumstances, doggedly, conscientiously, -under the mockery of the tinsel flames -that streamed out from the top of the columns, and of -the distant lights flashing through the windows, speaking -as a man who proclaims in a foreign country a great -truth bought by the harsh experience of his soul, to -an audience unconversant with his alien tongue. This -truth that he had won, in the presence of quiet stars, -quieter death, and simple men, was desecrated by its -recital to a vain woman in a room where the very -architecture was based on falsity. Still he persevered, -believing that his own intensity of feeling must end -in piercing its way to the foundations of her heart. -He laid bare even his harassing conviction of his -neglected responsibility,—</p> - -<p>'I should have suspected ... I should have -suspected....'</p> - -<p>He looked at Eve; she had broken down and was -sobbing, Paul's name mingled incoherently with her -sobs. He did not doubt that she was profoundly shocked, -but with a new-found cynicism he ascribed her tears to -shock rather than to sorrow. He himself would have -been incapable of shedding a single tear. He waited -quietly for her to recover herself.</p> - -<p>'Oh, Julian! Poor Paul! How terrible to die like -that, alone, in the sea, at night....' For a moment -her eyes were expressive of real horror, and she clasped -Julian's hand, gazing at him while all the visions of her -imagination were alive in her eyes. She seemed to be on -the point of adding something further, but continued -to cry for a few moments, and then said, greatly -sobered, 'You appear to take for granted that he has -killed himself?'</p> - -<p>He considered this. Up to the present no doubt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> -whatever had existed in his mind. The possibility of -an accident had not occurred to him. The very quality -of repose and peace that he had witnessed had offered -itself to him as the manifest evidence that the man -had sought the only solution for a life grown unendurable. -He had acknowledged the man's wisdom, -bowing before his recognition of the conclusive -infallibility of death as a means of escape. Cowardly? -so men often said, but circumstances were conceivable—circumstances -in the present case unknown, withheld, -and therefore not to be violated by so much as a -hazarded guess—circumstances were conceivable in -which no other course was to be contemplated. He -replied with gravity,—</p> - -<p>'I do believe he put an end to his life.'</p> - -<p>The secret reason would probably never be disclosed; -even if it came within sight, Julian must now turn his -eyes the other way. The secret which he might have, -nay, should have, wrenched from his friend's reserve -while he still lived, must remain sacred and unprofaned -now that he was dead. Not only must he guard it -from his own knowledge, but from the knowledge of -others. With this resolution he perceived that he had -already blundered.</p> - -<p>'Eve, I have been wrong; this thing must be presented -as an accident. I have no grounds for believing that -he took his life. I must rely on you to support me. -In fairness on poor Paul.... He told me nothing. -A man has a right to his own reticence.'</p> - -<p>He paused, startled at the truth of his discovery, -and cried out, taking his head between his hands,—</p> - -<p>'Oh God! the appalling loneliness of us all!'</p> - -<p>He shook his head despairingly for a long moment -with his hands pressed over his temples. Dropping his -hands with a gesture of discouragement and lassitude, -he regarded Eve.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> -<p>'I've found things out to-night, I think I've aged -by five years. I know that Paul suffered enough to -put an end to himself. We can't tell what he suffered -from. I never intended to let you think he had suffered. -We must never let any one else suspect it. But imagine -the stages and degrees of suffering which led him to -that state of mind; imagine his hours, his days, and -specially his nights. I looked on him as a village -priest, limited to his village; I thought his long hair -funny; God forgive me, I slightly despised him. You, -Eve, you thought him ornamental, a picturesque -appendage to the house. And all that while, he was -moving slowly towards the determination that he -must kill himself.... Perhaps, probably, he took -his decision yesterday, when you and I were at the -picnic. When Fru Thyregod.... For months, -perhaps, or for years, he had been living with the -secret that was to kill him. He knew, but no one else -knew. He shared his knowledge with no one. I think -I shall never look at a man again without awe, and -reverence, and terror.'</p> - -<p>He was trembling strongly, discovering his fellows, -discovering himself, his glowing eyes never left Eve's -face. He went on talking rapidly, as though eager to -translate all there was to translate into words before -the aroused energy deserted him.</p> - -<p>'You vain, you delicate, unreal thing, do you understand -at all? Have you ever seen a dead man? You -don't know the meaning of pain. You inflict pain -for your amusement. You thing of leisure, you toy! -Your deepest emotion is your jealousy. You can be -jealous even where you cannot love. You make a -plaything of men's pain—you woman! You can change -your personality twenty times a day. You can't -understand a man's slow, coherent progression; he, -always the same person, scarred with the wounds of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> -the past. To wound you would be like wounding a -wraith.'</p> - -<p>Under the fury of his unexpected outburst, she -protested,—</p> - -<p>'Julian, why attack me? I've done, I've said, nothing.'</p> - -<p>'You listened uncomprehendingly to me, thinking if -you thought at all, that by to-morrow I should have -forgotten my mood of to-night. You are wrong. I've -gone a step forward to-day. I've learnt.... Learnt, -I mean, to respect men who suffer. Learnt the continuity -and the coherence of life. Days linked to days. -For you, an episode is an isolated episode.'</p> - -<p>He softened.</p> - -<p>'No wonder you look bewildered. If you want the -truth, I am angry with myself for my blindness towards -Paul. Poor little Eve! I only meant half I said.'</p> - -<p>'You meant every word; one never speaks the truth -so fully as when one speaks it unintentionally.'</p> - -<p>He smiled, but tolerantly and without malice.</p> - -<p>'Eve betrays herself by the glibness of the axiom. -You know nothing of truth. But I've seen truth -to-night. All Paul's past life is mystery, shadow, -enigma to me, but at the same time there is a central -light—blinding, incandescent light—which is the fact -that he suffered. Suffered so much that, a priest, he -preferred the supreme sin to such suffering. Suffered -so much that, a man, he preferred death to such suffering! -All his natural desire for life was conquered. -That irresistible instinct, that primal law, that persists -even to the moment when darkness and unconsciousness -overwhelm us—the fight for life, the battle to retain our -birthright—all this was conquered. The instinct to -escape from life became stronger than the instinct to -preserve it! Isn't that profoundly illuminating?'</p> - -<p>He paused.</p> - -<p>'That fact sweeps, for me, like a great searchlight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> -over an abyss of pain. The pain the man must have -endured before he arrived at such a reversal of his -religion and of his most primitive instinct! His world -was, at the end, turned upside down. A terrifying -nightmare. He took the only course. You cannot -think how final death is—so final, so simple. So simple. -There is no more to be said. I had no idea....'</p> - -<p>He spoke himself with the simplicity he was trying -to express. He said again, candidly, evenly, in a voice -from which all the emotion had passed,—</p> - -<p>'So simple.'</p> - -<p>They were silent for a long time. He had forgotten -her, and she was wondering whether she dared now -recall him to the personal. She had listened, gratified -when he attacked her, resentful when he forgot her, -bored with his detachment, but wise enough to conceal -both her resentment and her boredom. She had -worshipped him in his anger, and had admired his -good looks in the midst of his fire. She had been -infinitely more interested in him than in Paul. Shocked -for a moment by Paul's death, aware of the stirrings -of pity, she had quickly neglected both for the sake -of the living Julian.</p> - -<p>She reviewed a procession of phrases with which -she might recall his attention.</p> - -<p>'You despise me, Julian.'</p> - -<p>'No, I only dissociate you. You represent a different -sphere. You belong to Herakleion. I love you—in -your place.'</p> - -<p>'You are hurting me.'</p> - -<p>He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her -towards the fight. She let him have his way, with -the disconcerting humility he had sometimes found -in her. She bore his inspection mutely, her hands -dropping loosely by her sides, fragile before his strength. -He found that his thoughts had swept back, away<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> -from death, away from Paul, to her sweetness and her -worthlessness.</p> - -<p>'Many people care for you—more fools they,' he -said. 'You and I, Eve, must be allies now. You say -I despise you. I shall do so less if I can enlist your -loyalty in Paul's cause. He has died as the result of -an accident. Are you to be trusted?'</p> - -<p>He felt her soft shoulders move in the slightest shrug -under the pressure of his hands.</p> - -<p>'Do you think,' she asked, 'that you will be believed?'</p> - -<p>'I shall insist upon being believed. There is no -evidence—is there?—to prove me wrong.'</p> - -<p>As she did not answer, he repeated his question, -then released her in suspicion.</p> - -<p>'What do you know? tell me!'</p> - -<p>After a very long pause, he said quietly,—</p> - -<p>'I understand. There are many ways of conveying -information. I am very blind about some things. -Heavens! if I had suspected that truth, either you -would not have remained here, or Paul would not have -remained here. A priest! Unheard of.... A priest -to add to your collection. First Miloradovitch, now -Paul. Moths pinned upon a board. He loved you? -Oh,' he cried in a passion, 'I see it all: he struggled, -you persisted—till you secured him. A joke to you. -Not a joke now—surely not a joke, even to you—but -a triumph. Am I right? A triumph! A man, dead -for you. A priest. You allowed me to talk, knowing -all the while.'</p> - -<p>'I am very sorry for Paul,' she said absently.</p> - -<p>He laughed at the pitiably inadequate word.</p> - -<p>'Have the courage to admit that you are flattered. -More flattered than grieved. Sorry for Paul—yes, -toss him that conventional tribute before turning to -the luxury of your gratified vanity. That such things can -be! Surely men and women live in different worlds?'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p> -<p>'But, Julian, what could I do?'</p> - -<p>'He told you he loved you?'</p> - -<p>She acquiesced, and he stood frowning at her, his -hands buried in his pockets and his head thrust forward, -picturing the scenes, which had probably been numerous, -between her and the priest, letting his imagination -play over the anguish of his friend and Eve's indifference. -That she had not wholly discouraged him, he -was sure. She would not so easily have let him go. -Julian was certain, as though he had observed their -interviews from a hidden corner, that she had amusedly -provoked him, watched him with half-closed, ironical -eyes, dropped him a judicious word in her honeyed -voice, driven him to despair by her disregard, raised -him to joy by her capricious friendliness. They had -had every opportunity for meeting. Eve was strangely -secretive. All had been carried on unsuspected. At -this point he spoke aloud, almost with admiration,—</p> - -<p>'That you, who are so shallow, should be so deep!'</p> - -<p>A glimpse of her life had been revealed to him, but -what secrets remained yet hidden? The veils were -lifting from his simplicity; he contemplated, as it -were, a new world—Eve's world, ephemerally and -clandestinely populated. He contemplated it in -fascination, acknowledging that here was an additional, -a separate art, insistent for recognition, dominating, -imperative, forcing itself impudently upon mankind, -exasperating to the straight-minded because it imposed -itself, would not be denied, was subtle, pretended -so unswervingly to dignity that dignity was accorded -it by a credulous humanity—the art which Eve -practised, so vain, so cruel, so unproductive, the -most fantastically prosperous of impostors!</p> - -<p>She saw the marvel in his eyes, and smiled slightly.</p> - -<p>'Well, Julian?'</p> - -<p>'I am wondering,' he cried, 'wondering! trying to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> -pierce to your mind, your peopled memory, your -present occupation, your science. What do you know? -what have you heard? What have you seen? You, -so young.... Who are not young. How many -secrets like the secret of Paul are buried away in your -heart? That you will never betray? Do you ever -look forward to the procession of your life? You, so -young. I think you have some extraordinary, instinctive, -inherited wisdom, some ready-made heritage, -bequeathed to you by generations, that compensates -for the deficiencies of your own experience. Because -you are so young. And so old, that I am afraid.'</p> - -<p>'Poor Julian,' she murmured. A gulf of years lay -between them, and she spoke to him as a woman to a -boy. He was profoundly shaken, while she remained -quiet, gently sarcastic, pitying towards him, who, so -vastly stronger than she, became a bewildered child -upon her own ground. He had seen death, but she -had seen, toyed with, dissected the living heart. She -added, 'Don't try to understand. Forget me and be -yourself. You are annoying me.'</p> - -<p>She had spoken the last words with such impatience, -that, torn from his speculations, he asked,—</p> - -<p>'Annoying you? Why?'</p> - -<p>After a short hesitation she gave him the truth,—</p> - -<p>'I dislike seeing you at fault.'</p> - -<p>He passed to a further bewilderment.</p> - -<p>'I want you infallible.'</p> - -<p>Rousing herself from the chair where she had been -indolently lying, she said in the deepest tones of her -contralto voice,—</p> - -<p>'Julian, you think me worthless and vain; you -condemn me as that without the charity of any further -thought. You are right to think me heartless towards -those I don't love. You believe that I spend my life -in vanity. Julian, I only ask to be taken away from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> -my life; I have beliefs, and I have creeds, both of my -own making, but I'm like a ship without a rudder. -I'm wasting my life in vanity. I'm capable of other -things. I'm capable of the deepest good, I know, as -well as of the most shallow evil. Nobody knows, -except perhaps Kato a little, how my real life is made -up of dreams and illusions that I cherish. People are -far more unreal to me than my own imaginings. One -of my beliefs is about you. You mustn't ever destroy -it. I believe you could do anything.'</p> - -<p>'No, no,' he said, astonished.</p> - -<p>But she insisted, lit by the flame of her conviction.</p> - -<p>'Yes, anything. I have the profoundest contempt -for the herd—to which you don't belong. I have -believed in you since I was a child; believed in you, -I mean, as something Olympian of which I was -frightened. I have always known that you would -justify my faith.'</p> - -<p>'But I am ordinary, normal!' he said, defending -himself. He mistrusted her profoundly; wondered -what attack she was engineering. Experience of her -had taught him to be sceptical.</p> - -<p>'Ah, don't you see, Julian, when I am sincere?' -she said, her voice breaking. 'I am telling you now -one of the secrets of my heart, if you only knew it. -The gentle, the amiable, the pleasant—yes, they're my -toys. I'm cruel, I suppose. I'm always told so. I -don't care; they're worth nothing. It does their little -souls good to pass through the mill. But you, my -intractable Julian....'</p> - -<p>'Kyrie,' said Nicolas, appearing, 'Tsantilas Tsigaridis, -from Aphros, asks urgently whether you will receive him?'</p> - -<p>'Bring him in,' said Julian, conscious of relief, for -Eve's words had begun to trouble him.</p> - -<p>Outside, the fireworks continued to flash like summer -lightning.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p> - -<h2>VI</h2> - -<p>Tsigaridis came forward into the room, his fishing -cap between his fingers, and his white hair standing -out in bunches of wiry curls round his face. Determination -was written in the set gravity of his features, -even in the respectful bow with which he came to a -halt before Julian. Interrupted in their conversation, -Eve had fallen, back, half lying, in her arm-chair, and -Julian, who had been pacing up and down, stood still -with folded arms, a frown cleaving a deep valley between -his brows. He spoke to Tsigaridis,—</p> - -<p>'You asked for me, Tsantilas?'</p> - -<p>'I am a messenger, Kyrie.'</p> - -<p>He looked from the young man to the girl, his age -haughty towards their youth, his devotion submissive -towards the advantage of their birth. He said to -Julian, using almost the same words as he had used -once before,—</p> - -<p>'The people of Aphros are the people of your people,' -and he bowed again.</p> - -<p>Julian had recovered his self-possession; he no -longer felt dazed and bewildered as he had felt before -Eve. In speaking to Tsigaridis he was speaking of -things he understood. He knew very well the summons -Tsigaridis was bringing him, the rude and fine old -man, single-sighted as a prophet, direct and unswerving -in the cause he had at heart. He imagined, with -almost physical vividness, the hand of the fisherman -on his shoulder, impelling him forward.</p> - -<p>'Kyrie,' Tsigaridis continued, 'to-day the flag of -Herakleion flew from the house of your honoured -father until you with your own hand threw it down.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> -I was in Herakleion, where the news was brought to -me, and there is no doubt that by now it is known -also on Aphros. Your action can be interpreted only -in one way. I know that to-day'—he crossed himself -devoutly—'Father Paul, who was our friend and -yours, has met his death; I break in upon your sorrow; -I dared not wait; even death must not delay me. -Kyrie, I come to bring you back to Aphros.'</p> - -<p>'I will go to-night,' said Julian without hesitation. -'My father and my uncle are in Herakleion, and I will -start from here before they can stop me. Have you -a boat?'</p> - -<p>'I can procure one,' said Tsigaridis, very erect, and -looking at Julian with shining eyes.</p> - -<p>'Then I will meet you at the private jetty in two -hours' time. We shall be unnoted in the darkness, -and the illuminations will be over by then.'</p> - -<p>'Assuredly,' said the fisherman.</p> - -<p>'We go in all secrecy,' Julian added. 'Tsantilas, -listen: can you distribute two orders for me by nightfall? -I understand that you have organised a system -of communications?'</p> - -<p>The old man's face relaxed slowly from its stern -dignity; it softened into a mixture of slyness and -pride and tenderness—the tenderness of a father for -his favourite child. Almost a smile struggled with -his lips. A strange contortion troubled his brows. -Slowly and portentously, he winked.</p> - -<p>'Then send word to Aphros,' said Julian, 'that no -boat be allowed to leave the Islands, and send word -round the mainland recalling every available islander. -Is it possible? I know that every islander in Herakleion -to-night is sitting with boon companions in buried -haunts, talking, talking, talking. Call them together, -Tsantilas.'</p> - -<p>'It will be done, Kyrie.'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p> -<p>'And Madame Kato—she must be informed.'</p> - -<p>'Kyrie, she sends you a message that she leaves -Herakleion by to-night's train for Athens. When her -work is done in Athens, she also will return to Aphros.'</p> - -<p>Tsigaridis took a step forward and lifted Julian's -hands to his lips as was his wont. He bowed, and with -his patriarchal gravity left the room.</p> - -<p>Julian in a storm of excitement flung himself upon -his knees beside Eve's chair.</p> - -<p>'Eve!' he cried. 'Oh, the wild adventure! Do -you understand? It has come at last. Paul—I had -almost forgotten the Islands for him, and now I must -forget him for the Islands. Too much has happened -to-day. To-morrow all Herakleion will know that the -Islands have broken away, and that I and every islander -are upon Aphros. They will come at first with threats; -they will send representatives. I shall refuse to retract -our declaration. Then they will begin to carry out -their threats. Panaïoannou—think of it!—will organise -an attack with boats.' He became sunk in practical -thought, from which emerging he said more slowly -and carefully, 'They will not dare to bombard the -island because they know that Italy and Greece are -watching every move, and with a single man-of-war -could blow the whole town of Herakleion higher than -Mount Mylassa. Kato will watch over us from Athens.... -They will dare to use no more than reasonable -violence. And they will never gain a footing.'</p> - -<p>Eve was leaning forward; she put both hands on -his shoulders as he knelt.</p> - -<p>'Go on talking to me,' she said, 'my darling.'</p> - -<p>In a low, intense voice, with unseeing eyes, he -released all the flood of secret thought that he had, -in his life, expressed only to Paul and to Kato.</p> - -<p>'I went once to Aphros, more than a year ago; you -remember. They asked me then, through Tsigaridis,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> -whether I would champion them if they needed championship. -I said I would. Father was very angry. -He is incomprehensibly cynical about the Islands, so -cynical that I have been tempted to think him merely -mercenary, anxious to live at peace with Herakleion -for the sake of his profits. He is as cynical as Malteios, -or any stay-in-power politician here. He read me a -lecture and called the people a lot of rebellious good-for-nothings. -Eve, what do I care? One thing is -true, one thing is real: those people suffer. Everything -on earth is empty, except pain. Paul suffered, so much -that he preferred to die. But a whole people -doesn't die. I went away to England, and I put -Herakleion aside, but at the bottom of my -heart I never thought of anything else; I knew I was -bound to those people, and I lived, I swear to you, -with the sole idea that I should come back, and that -this adventure of rescue would happen some day -exactly as it is happening now. I thought of Kato -and of Tsigaridis as symbolical, almost mythological -beings; my tutelary deities; Kato vigorous, and -Tsigaridis stern. Eve, I would rather die than read -disappointment in that man's eyes. I never made -him many promises, but he must find me better than -my word.'</p> - -<p>He got up and walked once or twice up and down -the room, beating his fist against his palm and saying,—</p> - -<p>'Whatever good I do in my life, will be done in the -Islands.'</p> - -<p>He came back and stood by Eve.</p> - -<p>'Eve, yesterday morning when I rode over the hills -I saw the Islands lying out in the sea.... I thought -of father, cynical and indifferent, and of Stavridis, -a self-seeker. I wondered whether I should grow into -that. I thought that in illusion lay the only loveliness.'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> -<p>'Ah, how I agree!' she said fervently.</p> - -<p>He dropped on his knees again beside her, and she -put her fingers lightly on his hair.</p> - -<p>'When Tsigaridis came, you were telling me that -you believed in me—Heaven knows why. For my -part, I only believe that one can accomplish when one -has faith in a cause, and is blind to one's own fate. -And I believe that the only cause worthy of such faith, -is the redemption of souls from pain. I set aside all -doubt. I will listen to no argument, and I will walk -straight towards the object I have chosen. If my -faith is an illusion, I will make that illusion into a -reality by the sheer force of my faith.'</p> - -<p>He looked up at Eve, whose eyes were strangely -intent on him.</p> - -<p>'You see,' he said, fingering the fringe of her Spanish -shawl, 'Herakleion is my battleground, and if I am -to tilt against windmills it must be in Herakleion. I -have staked out Herakleion for my own, as one stakes -out a claim in a gold-mining country. The Islands are -the whole adventure of youth for me.'</p> - -<p>'And what am I?' she murmured to him.</p> - -<p>He looked at her without appearing to see her; he -propped his elbow on her knee, leant his chin in his -palm, and went on talking about the Islands.</p> - -<p>'I know that I am making the thing into a religion, -but then I could never live, simply drifting along. -Aimless.... I don't understand existence on those -terms. I am quite prepared to give everything for my -idea; father can disinherit me, and I know I am very -likely to be killed. I don't care. I may be mistaken; -I may be making a blunder, an error of judgment. -I don't care. Those people are mine. Those Islands -are my faith. I am blind.'</p> - -<p>'And you enjoy the adventure,' she said.</p> - -<p>'Of course, I enjoy the adventure. But there is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> -more in it than that,' he said, shaking his head; 'there -is conviction, burnt into me. Fanatical. Whoever is -ready to pay the ultimate price for his belief, has a -right to that belief. Heaven preserve me,' he cried, -showing his fist, 'from growing like father, or Malteios, -or Stavridis. Eve, you understand.'</p> - -<p>She murmured again,—</p> - -<p>'And what am I? What part have I got in this world -of yours?'</p> - -<p>Again he did not appear to hear her, but making an -effort to get up, he said,—</p> - -<p>'I promised to meet Tsantilas, and I must go,' but -she pressed her hands on his shoulders and held him -down.</p> - -<p>'Stay a little longer. I want to talk to you.'</p> - -<p>Kneeling there, he saw at last that her mouth was -very resolute and her eyes full of a desperate decision. -She sat forward in her chair, so close to him that he -felt the warmth of her body, and saw that at the base -of her throat a little pulse was beating quickly.</p> - -<p>'What is it, Eve?'</p> - -<p>'This,' she said, 'that if I let you go I may never -see you again. How much time have you?'</p> - -<p>He glanced at the heavy clock between the lapis -columns.</p> - -<p>'An hour and a half.'</p> - -<p>'Give me half an hour.'</p> - -<p>'Do you want to stop me from going?'</p> - -<p>'Could I stop you if I tried?'</p> - -<p>'I should never listen to you.'</p> - -<p>'Julian,' she said, 'I rarely boast, as you know, but -I am wondering now how many people in Herakleion -would abandon their dearest ideals for me? If you -think my boast is empty—remember Paul.'</p> - -<p>He paused for a moment, genuinely surprised by -the point of view she presented to him.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> -<p>'But I am different,' he said then, quite simply and -with an air of finality.</p> - -<p>She laughed a low, delighted laugh.</p> - -<p>'You have said it: you are different. Of course -you are different. So different, that you never notice -me. People cringe to me—oh, I may say this to you—but -you, Julian, either you are angry with me or -else you forget me.'</p> - -<p>She looked at the clock, and for the first time a slight -loss of self-assurance came over her, surprising and -attractive in her, who seemed always to hold every -situation in such contemptuous control.</p> - -<p>'Only half an hour,' she said, 'and I have to say -to you all that which I have been at such pains to -conceal—hoping all the while that you would force -the gates of my concealment, trample on my -hypocrisy!'</p> - -<p>Her eyes lost their irony and became troubled; -she gazed at him with the distress of a child. He was -uneasily conscious of his own embarrassment; he felt -the shame of taking unawares the self-reliant in a -moment of weakness, the mingled delight and perplexity -of the hunter who comes suddenly upon the nymph, -bare and gleaming, at the edge of a pool. All instinct -of chivalry urged him to retreat until she should have -recovered her self-possession. He desired to help her, -tender and protective; and again, relentlessly, he -would have outraged her reticence, forced her to the -uttermost lengths of self-revelation, spared her no -abasement, enjoyed her humiliation. Simultaneously, -he wanted the triumph over her pride, the battle joined -with a worthy foe; and the luxury of comforting her -new and sudden pathos, as he alone, he knew, could -comfort it. She summoned in him, uncivilised and -wholly primitive, a passion of tyranny and a passion -of possessive protection.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p> -<p>He yielded to the former, and continued to look at -her in expectation, without speaking.</p> - -<p>'Help me a little, Julian,' she murmured piteously, -keeping her eyes bent on her hands, which were lying -in her lap. 'Look back a little, and remember me. -I can remember you so well: coming and going and -disregarding me, or furiously angry with me; very -often unkind to me; tolerant of me sometimes; negligently, -insultingly, certain of me always!'</p> - -<p>'We used to say that although we parted for months, -we always came together again.'</p> - -<p>She raised her eyes, grateful to him, as he still knelt -on the floor in front of her, but he was not looking at -her; he was staring at nothing, straight in front of -him.</p> - -<p>'Julian,' she said, and spoke of their childhood, -knowing that her best hope lay in keeping his thoughts -distant from the present evening.</p> - -<p>Her distress, which had been genuine, had passed. -She had a vital game to play, and was playing it with -the full resources of her ability. She swept the chords -lightly, swift to strike again that chord which had -whispered in response. She bent a little closer to him.</p> - -<p>'I have always had this belief in you, of which I -told you. You and I both have in us the making of -fanatics. We never have led, and never should lead, -the tame life of the herd.'</p> - -<p>She touched him with that, and regained command -over his eyes, which this time she held unswervingly. -But, having forced him to look at her, she saw a frown -gathering on his brows; he sprang to his feet, and -made a gesture as if to push her from him.</p> - -<p>'You are playing with me; if you saw me lying -dead on that rug you would turn from me as indifferently -as from Paul.'</p> - -<p>At this moment of her greatest danger, as he stood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> -towering over her, she dropped her face into her hands, -and he looked down only upon the nape of her neck -and her waving hair. Before he could speak she looked -up again, her eyes very sorrowful under plaintive -brows.</p> - -<p>'Do I deserve that you should say that to me? -I never pretended to be anything but indifferent to -those I didn't love. I should have been more hypocritical. -You despise me now, so I pay the penalty -of my own candour. I have not the pleasant graces -of a Fru Thyregod, Julian; not towards you, that is. -I wouldn't offer you the insult of an easy philandering. -I might make your life a burden; I might even kill -you. I know I have often been impossible towards -you in the past. I should probably be still more impossible -in the future. If I loved you less, I should, -no doubt, love you better. You see that I am candid.'</p> - -<p>He was struck, and reflected: she spoke truly, -there was indeed a vein of candour which contradicted -and redeemed the petty deceits and untruthfulnesses -which so exasperated and offended him. But he would -not admit his hesitation.</p> - -<p>'I have told you a hundred times that you are cruel -and vain and irredeemably worthless.'</p> - -<p>She answered after a pause, in the deep and wonderful -voice which she knew so well how to use,—</p> - -<p>'You are more cruel than I; you hurt me more than -I can say.'</p> - -<p>He resisted his impulse to renounce his words, to -pretend that he had chosen them in deliberate malice. -As he said nothing, she added,—</p> - -<p>'Besides, have I ever shown myself any of those -things to you? I haven't been cruel to you; I haven't -even been selfish; you have no right to find fault with -me.'</p> - -<p>She had blundered; he flew into a rage.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> -<p>'Your damned feminine reasoning! Your damned -personal point of view! I can see well enough the -fashion in which you treat other men. I don't judge -you only by your attitude towards myself.'</p> - -<p>Off her guard, she was really incapable of grasping -his argument; she tried to insist, to justify herself, -but before his storm of anger she cowered away.</p> - -<p>'Julian, how you frighten me.'</p> - -<p>'You only pretend to be frightened.'</p> - -<p>'You are brutal; you mangle every word I say,' -she said hopelessly.</p> - -<p>He had reduced her to silence; he stood over her -threateningly, much as a tamer of wild beasts who -waits for the next spring of the panther. Desperate, -her spirit flamed up again, and she cried,—</p> - -<p>'You treat me monstrously; I am a fool to waste -my time over you; I am accustomed to quite different -treatment.'</p> - -<p>'You are spoilt; you are accustomed to flattery—flattery -which means less than nothing,' he sneered, -stamping upon her attempt at arrogance.</p> - -<p>'Ah, Julian!' she said, suddenly and marvellously -melting, and leaning forward she stretched out both -hands towards him, so that he was obliged to take -them, and she drew him down to his knees once more -beside her, and smiled into his eyes, having taken -command and being resolved that no crisis of anger -should again arise to estrange them, 'I shall never have -flattery from you, shall I? my turbulent, impossible -Julian, whose most meagre compliment I have treasured -ever since I can remember! but it is over now, my -time of waiting for you'—she still held his hands, and -the smile with which she looked at him transfigured all -her face.</p> - -<p>He was convinced; he trembled. He strove against -her faintly,—</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> -<p>'You choose your moment badly; you know that -I must leave for Aphros.'</p> - -<p>'You cannot!' she cried in indignation.</p> - -<p>As his eyes hardened, she checked herself; she -knew that for her own safety she must submit to his -will without a struggle. Spoilt, irrational as she was, -she had never before so dominated her caprice. Her -wits were all at work, quick slaves to her passion.</p> - -<p>'Of course you must go,' she said.</p> - -<p>She played with his fingers, her head bent low, and -he was startled by the softness of her touch.</p> - -<p>'What idle hands,' he said, looking at them; 'you -were vain of them, as a child.'</p> - -<p>But she did not wish him to dwell upon her vanity.</p> - -<p>'Julian, have I not been consistent, all my life? -Are you taking me seriously? Do you know that I -am betraying all the truth? One hasn't often the luxury -of betraying all the truth. I could betray even greater -depths of truth, for your sake. Are you treating what -I tell you with the gravity it deserves? You must -not make a toy of my secret. I have no strength of -character, Julian. I suppose, in its stead, I have been -given strength of love. Do you want what I offer -you? Will you take the responsibility of refusing it?'</p> - -<p>'Is that a threat?' he asked, impressed and moved.</p> - -<p>She shrugged slightly and raised her eyebrows; he -thought he had never so appreciated the wonderful -mobility of her face.</p> - -<p>'I am nothing without the person I love. You have -judged me yourself: worthless—what else?—cruel, -vain. All that is true. Hitherto I have tried only -to make the years pass by. Do you want me to return -to such an existence?'</p> - -<p>His natural vigour rebelled against her frailty.</p> - -<p>'You are too richly gifted, Eve, to abandon yourself -to such slackness of life.'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> -<p>'I told you I had no strength of character,' she -said with bitterness, 'what are my gifts, such as they -are, to me? You are the thing I want.'</p> - -<p>'You could turn your gifts to any account.'</p> - -<p>'With you, yes.'</p> - -<p>'No, independently of me or any other human being. -One stands alone in work. Work is impersonal.'</p> - -<p>'Nothing is impersonal to me,' she replied morosely, -'that's my tragedy.'</p> - -<p>She flung out her hands.</p> - -<p>'Julian, I cherish such endless dreams! I loathe -my life of petty adventures; I undertake them only -in order to forget the ideal which until now has been -denied me. I have crushed down the vision of life -with you, but always it has remained at the back of -my mind, so wide, so open, a life so free and so full of -music and beauty, Julian! I would work—for you. -I would create—for you. I don't want to marry you, -Julian. I value my freedom above all things. Bondage -is not for you or me. But I'll come with you anywhere—to -Aphros if you like.'</p> - -<p>'To Aphros?' he repeated.</p> - -<p>'Why not?'</p> - -<p>She put in, with extraordinary skill,—</p> - -<p>'I belong to the Islands no less than you.'</p> - -<p>Privately she thought,—</p> - -<p>'If you knew how little I cared about the Islands!'</p> - -<p>He stared at her, turning her words over in his mind. -He was as reckless as she, but conscientiously he -suggested,—</p> - -<p>'There may be danger.'</p> - -<p>'I am not really a coward, only in the unimportant -things. And you said yourself that they could never -invade the island,' she added with complete confidence -in his statement.</p> - -<p>He dreamt aloud,—</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> -<p>'I have only just found her. This is Herakleion! -She might, who knows? be of use to Aphros.'</p> - -<p>She wondered which consideration weighed most -heavily with him.</p> - -<p>'You were like my sister,' he said suddenly.</p> - -<p>She gave a rueful smile, but said nothing.</p> - -<p>'No, no!' he cried, springing up. 'This can never -be; have you bewitched me? Let me go, Eve; you -have been playing a game with me.'</p> - -<p>She shook her head very slowly and tears gathered -in her eyes.</p> - -<p>'Then the game is my whole life, Julian; put me to -any test you choose to prove my sincerity.'</p> - -<p>She convinced him against his will, and he resented -it.</p> - -<p>'You have deceived me too often.'</p> - -<p>'I have been obliged to deceive you, because I could -not tell you the truth.'</p> - -<p>'Very plausible,' he muttered.</p> - -<p>She waited, very well acquainted with the vehemence -of his moods and reactions. She was rewarded; he -said next, with laughter lurking in his eyes,—</p> - -<p>'Ever since I can remember, I have quarrelled with -you several times a day.'</p> - -<p>'But this evening we have no time to waste in -quarrelling,' she replied, relieved, and stretching out -her hands to him again. As he took them, she added in -a low voice, 'You attract me fatally, my refractory -Julian.'</p> - -<p>'We will go to Aphros,' he said, 'as friends and -colleagues.'</p> - -<p>'On any terms you choose to dictate,' she replied -with ironical gravity.</p> - -<p>A flash of clear-sightedness pierced his attempt -at self-deception; he saw the danger into which they -were deliberately running, he and she, alone amidst<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> -fantastic happenings, living in fairyland, both headstrong -and impatient creatures, unaccustomed to -forgo their whims, much less their passions.... -He was obliged to recognise the character of the temple -which stood at the end of the path they were treading, -and of the deity to whom it was dedicated; he saw the -temple with the eyes of his imagination as vividly as -his mortal eyes would have seen it: white and lovely -amongst cypresses, shadowy within; they would -surely enter. Eve he certainly could not trust; could -he trust himself? His honesty answered no. She -observed the outward signs of what was passing in -his mind, he started, he glanced at her, a look of horror -and vigorous repudiation crossed his face, his eyes -dwelt on her, then she saw—for she was quick to read -him—by the slight toss of his head that he had banished -sagacity.</p> - -<p>'Come on to the veranda,' she said, tugging at -his hand.</p> - -<p>They stood on the veranda, watching the lights -in the distance; the sky dripped with gold; balls of -fire exploded into sheaves of golden feathers, into -golden fountains and golden rain; golden slashes like -the blades of scimitars cut across the curtain of night. -Eve cried out with delight. Fiery snakes rushed across -the sky, dying in a shower of sparks. At one moment -the whole of the coast-line was lit up by a violet light, -which most marvellously gleamed upon the sea.</p> - -<p>'Fairyland!' cried Eve, clapping her hands.</p> - -<p>She had forgotten Aphros. She had forgotten Paul.</p> - -<p class="space-above">The fireworks were over. Tsigaridis pulled strongly -and without haste at his oars across a wide sea that -glittered now like black diamonds under the risen -moon. The water rose and fell beneath the little boat -as gently and as regularly as the breathing of a sleeper.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> -In a milky sky, spangled with stars, the immense -moon hung flat and motionless, casting a broad path -of rough silver up the blackness of the waters, and -illuminating a long stretch of little broken clouds that lay -above the horizon like the vertebræ of some gigantic -crocodile. The light at the tip of the pier showed green, -for they saw it still from the side of the land, but as they -drew farther out to sea and came on a parallel line with -the light, they saw it briefly half green, half ruby; then, -as they passed it, looking back they saw only the ruby -glow. Tsigaridis rowed steadily, silently but for the -occasional drip of the water with the lifting of an oar, -driving his craft away from the lights of the mainland—the -stretch of Herakleion along the coast—towards -the beckoning lights in the heart of the sea.</p> - -<p>For ahead of them clustered the little yellow lights -of the sheerly-rising village on Aphros; isolated lights, -three or four only, low down at the level of the harbour, -then, after a dark gap representing the face of the -cliff, the lights in the houses, irregular, tier above tier. -But it was not to these yellow lights that the glance -was drawn. High above them all, upon the highest -summit of the island, flared a blood-red beacon, a -fierce and solitary stain of scarlet, a flame like a flag, -like an emblem, full of hope as it leapt towards the -sky, full of rebellion as it tore its angry gash across -the night. In the moonlight the tiny islands of the -group lay darkly outlined in the sea, but the moonlight, -placid and benign, was for them without significance: -only the beacon, insolently red beneath the pallor of -the moon, burned for them with a message that promised -to all men strife, to others death, and to the survivors -liberty.</p> - -<p>The form of Aphros was no more than a silhouette -under the moon, a silhouette that rose, humped and -shadowy, bearing upon its crest that flower of flame;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> -dawn might break upon an island of the purest loveliness, -colour blown upon it as upon the feathers of a -bird, fragile as porcelain, flushed as an orchard in -blossom; to-night it lay mysterious, unrevealed, with -that single flame as a token of the purpose that burned -within its heart. Tenderness, loveliness, were absent -from the dark shape crowned by so living, so leaping -an expression of its soul. Here were resolution, anticipation, -hope, the perpetual hope of betterment, the undying -chimera, the sublime illusion, the lure of adventure -to the rebel and the idealist alike. The flame rang out -like a bugle call in the night, its glare in the darkness -becoming strident indeed as the note of a bugle in the -midst of silence.</p> - -<p>A light breeze brushed the little boat as it drew -away from the coast, and Tsigaridis with a word of -satisfaction shipped his oars and rose, the fragile craft -rocking as he moved; Eve and Julian, watching from -the prow, saw a shadow creep along the mast and the -triangular shape of a sail tauten itself darkly against -the path of the moon. Tsigaridis sank back into an -indistinguishable block of intenser darkness in the -darkness at the bottom of the boat. A few murmured -words had passed,—</p> - -<p>'I will take the tiller, Tsigaridis.'</p> - -<p>'Malista, Kyrie,' and the silence had fallen again, -the boat sailing strongly before the breeze, the beacon -high ahead, and the moon brilliant in the sky. -Eve, not daring to speak, glanced at Julian's profile -as she sat beside him. He was scowling. Had she -but known, he was intensely conscious of her nearness, -assailed again with that now familiar ghost, the -ghost of her as he had once held her angrily in his -arms, soft, heavy, defenceless; and his fingers as they -closed over the tiller closed as delicately as upon the -remembered curves of her body; she had taken off her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> -hat, and the scent of her hair reached him, warm, personal -she was close to him, soft, fragrant, silent indeed, -but mysteriously alive; the desire to touch her grew, -like the desire of thirst; life seemed to envelop him -with a strange completeness. Still a horror held him -back: was it Eve, the child to whom he had been -brotherly? or Eve, the woman? but in spite of his -revulsion—for it was not his habit to control his desires—he -changed the tiller to the other hand, and his free -arm fell round her shoulders; he felt her instant yielding, -her movement nearer towards him, her shortened -breath, the falling back of her head; he knew that -her eyes were shut; his fingers moulded themselves -lingeringly round her throat; she slipped still lower -within the circle of his arm, and his hand, almost -involuntarily, trembled over the softness of her breast.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> - -<h2>PART III—APHROS</h2> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p> - -<h2>I</h2> - -<p>In the large class-room of the school-house the dejected -group of Greek officials sat among the hideous yellow -desks and benches of the school-children of Aphros. -Passion and indignation had spent themselves fruitlessly -during the preceding evening and night. To do -the islanders justice, the Greeks had not been treated -with incivility. But all demands for an interview -with the highest authority were met not only with a -polite reply that the highest authority had not yet -arrived upon the island, but also a refusal to disclose -his name. The Greek officials, having been brought -from their respective lodgings to the central meeting-point -of the school, had been given the run of two -class-rooms, one for the men, of whom there were, in -all, twenty, and one for the women, of whom there -were only six. They were told that they might communicate, -but that armed guards would be placed in -both rooms. They found most comfort in gathering, -the six-and-twenty of them, in the larger class-room, -while the guards, in their kilted dresses, sat on chairs, -two at each entrance, with suspiciously modern and -efficient-looking rifles laid across their knees.</p> - -<p>A large proportion of the officials were, naturally, -those connected with the school. They observed -morosely that all notices in the pure Greek of Herakleion -had already been removed, also the large lithographs -of Malteios and other former Presidents, so -that the walls of pitch pine—the school buildings -were modern, and of wood—were now ornamented -only with maps, anatomical diagrams, and some large -coloured plates published by some English manufacturing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> -firm for advertisement; there were three children riding -a gray donkey, and another child trying on a sun-bonnet -before a mirror; but any indication of the -relationship of Aphros to Herakleion there was none.</p> - -<p>'It is revolution,' the postmaster said gloomily.</p> - -<p>The guards would not speak. Their natural loquacity -was in abeyance before the first fire of their revolutionary -ardour. From vine-cultivators they had become -soldiers, and the unfamiliarity of the trade filled them -with self-awe and importance. Outside, the village -was surprisingly quiet; there was no shouting, no -excitement; footsteps passed rapidly to and fro, but -they seemed to be the footsteps of men bent on ordered -business; the Greeks could not but be impressed and -disquieted by the sense of organisation.</p> - -<p>'Shall we be allowed to go free?' they asked the -guards.</p> - -<p>'You will know when he comes,' was all the guards -would reply.</p> - -<p>'Who is he?'</p> - -<p>'You will know presently.'</p> - -<p>'Has he still not arrived?'</p> - -<p>'He has arrived.'</p> - -<p>'We heard nothing; he must have arrived during -the night.'</p> - -<p>To this they received no answer, nor any to their -next remark,—</p> - -<p>'Why so much mystery? It is, of course, the scatterbrained -young Englishman.'</p> - -<p>The guards silently shrugged their shoulders, as -much as to say, that any one, even a prisoner, had a -right to his own opinion.</p> - -<p>The school clock pointed to nine when the first -noise of agitation began in the street. It soon became -clear that a large concourse of people was assembling -in the neighbourhood of the school; a slight excitement<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> -betrayed itself by some shouting and laughter, but a -voice cried 'Silence!' and silence was immediately -produced. Those within the school heard only the -whisperings and rustlings of a crowd. They were not -extravagantly surprised, knowing the islanders to be -an orderly, restrained, and frugal race, their emotions -trained into the sole channel of patriotism, which here -was making its supreme demand upon their self-devotion. -The Greeks threw wondering glances at -the rifles of the guards. Ostensibly school-teachers, -post and telegraph clerks, and custom-house officers, -they were, of course, in reality the spies of the government -of Herakleion, and as such should have had -knowledge of the presence of such weapons on the -island. They reflected that, undesirable as was a -prolonged imprisonment in the school-house, at the -mercy of a newly-liberated and probably rancorous -population, a return to Herakleion might prove a no -less undesirable fate at the present juncture.</p> - -<p>Outside, some sharp words of command were followed -by the click of weapons on the cobblestones; the postmaster -looked at the chief customs-house clerk, raised -his eyebrows, jerked his head, and made a little noise: -'Tcha!' against his teeth, as much as to say, 'The -deceitful villains! under our noses!' but at the back -of his mind was, 'No further employment, no pension, -for any of us.' A burst of cheering followed in the -street. The voice cried 'Silence!' again, but this time -was disregarded. The cheering continued for some -minutes, the women's note joining in with the men's -deep voices, and isolated words were shouted, all with -the maximum of emotion. The Greeks tried to look -out of the windows, but were prevented by the guards. -Some one in the street began to speak, when the cheering -had died away, but through the closed windows it was -impossible to distinguish the words. A moment's hush<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> -followed this speaking, and then another voice began, -reading impressively—it was obvious, from the unhesitating -and measured scansion, that he was reading. -Sections of his address, or proclamation, whichever it -was, were received with deep growls of satisfaction -from the crowd. At one moment he was wholly interrupted -by repeated shouts of 'Viva! viva! viva!' -and when he had made an end thunderous shouts of -approval shook the wooden building. The Greeks -were by now very pale; they could not tell whether -this proclamation did not contain some reference, -some decision, concerning themselves.</p> - -<p>After the proclamation, another voice spoke, interrupted -at every moment by various cries of joy and -delight, especially from the women; the crowd seemed -alternately rocked with enthusiasm, confidence, fire, -and laughter. The laughter was not the laughter of -amusement so much as the grim laughter of resolution -and fraternity; an extraordinarily fraternal and -unanimous spirit seemed to prevail. Then silence -again, broken by voices in brief confabulation, and -then the shifting of the crowd which, to judge from -the noise, was pressing back against the school-buildings -in order to allow somebody a passage down the street.</p> - -<p>The door opened, and Zapantiotis, appearing, -announced,—</p> - -<p>'Prisoners, the President.'</p> - -<p>The word created a sensation among the little herd -of hostages, who, for comfort and protection, had -instinctively crowded together. They believed themselves -miraculously rescued, at least from the spite -and vengeance of the islanders, and expected to see -either Malteios or Stavridis, frock-coated and top-hatted, -in the doorway. Instead, they saw Julian -Davenant, flushed, untidy, bareheaded, and accompanied -by two immense islanders carrying rifles.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p> -<p>He paused and surveyed the little speechless group, -and a faint smile ran over his lips at the sight of the -confused faces of his prisoners. They stared at him, -readjusting their ideas: in the first instance they -had certainly expected Julian, then for one flashing -moment they had expected the President of Herakleion, -then they were confronted with Julian. A question -left the lips of the postmaster,—</p> - -<p>'President of what?'</p> - -<p>Perhaps he was tempted madly to think that neither -Malteios, nor Stavridis, but Julian, had been on the -foregoing day elected President of Herakleion.</p> - -<p>Zapantiotis answered gravely,—</p> - -<p>'Of the Archipelago of San Zacharie.'</p> - -<p>'Are we all crazy?' cried the postmaster.</p> - -<p>'You see, gentlemen,' said Julian, speaking for the -first time, 'that the folly of my grandfather's day has -been revived.'</p> - -<p>He came forward and seated himself at the schoolmaster's -desk, his bodyguard standing a little behind -him, one to each side.</p> - -<p>'I have come here,' he said, 'to choose amongst you -one representative who can carry to Herakleion the -terms of the proclamation which has just been read -in the market-place outside. These terms must be -communicated to the present government. Zapantiotis, -hand the proclamation to these gentlemen.'</p> - -<p>The outraged Greeks came closer together to read -the proclamation over each other's shoulder; it set -forth that the islands constituting the Archipelago of -San Zacharie, and including the important island of -Aphros, by the present proclamation, and after long -years of oppression, declared themselves a free and -independent republic under the presidency of Julian -Henry Davenant, pending the formation of a provisional -government; that if unmolested they were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> -prepared to live in all peace and neighbourly good-fellowship -with the republic of Herakleion, but that -if molested in any way they were equally prepared -to defend their shores and their liberty to the last drop -of blood in the last man upon the Islands.</p> - -<p>There was a certain nobleness in the resolute gravity -of the wording.</p> - -<p>Julian wore a cryptic smile as he watched the Greeks -working their way through this document, which was -in the Italianate Greek of the Islands. Their fingers -pointed certain paragraphs out to one another, and -little repressed snorts came from them, snorts of scorn -and of indignation, and glances were flung at Julian -lounging indifferently in the schoolmaster's chair. -The doors had been closed to exclude the crowd, and -of the islanders, only Zapantiotis and the guards -remained in the room. Although it was early, the heat -was beginning to make itself felt, and the flies were -buzzing over the window-panes.</p> - -<p>'If you have finished reading, gentlemen,' said -Julian presently, 'I shall be glad if you will decide -upon a representative, as I have much to attend to; -a boat is waiting to take him and these ladies to the -shore.'</p> - -<p>Immense relief was manifested by the ladies.</p> - -<p>'This thing,' said the head of the school, hitting the -proclamation with his closed fingers, 'is madness; -I beg you, young man—I know you quite well—to -withdraw before it is too late.'</p> - -<p>'I can have no argument; I give you five minutes -to decide,' Julian replied, laying his watch on the -desk.</p> - -<p>His followers had no longer cause to fret against -his indecision.</p> - -<p>Seeing him determined, the Greeks excitedly conferred; -amongst them the idea of self-preservation,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> -rather than of self-immolation, was obviously dominant. -Herakleion, for all the displeasure of the authorities, -was, when it came to the point, preferable to Aphros -in the hands of the islanders and their eccentric, if -not actually bloodthirsty, young leader. The postmaster -presented himself as senior member of the -group; the schoolmaster as the most erudite, therefore -the most fitted to represent his colleagues before the -Senate; the head clerk of the customs-house urged -his claim as having the longest term of official service. -The conference degenerated into a wrangle.</p> - -<p>'I see, gentlemen, that I must take the decision out -of your hands,' Julian said at length, breaking in upon -them, and appointed the customs-house clerk.</p> - -<p>But in the market-place, whither the Greek representative -and the women of the party were instantly -hurried, the silent throng of population waited in -packed and coloured ranks. The men stood apart, -arms folded, handkerchiefs bound about their heads -under their wide straw hats—they waited, patient, -confident, unassuming. None of them was armed -with rifles, although many carried a pistol or a long -knife slung at his belt; the customs-house clerk, -through all his confusion of mingled terror and relief, -noted the fact; if he delivered it at a propitious moment, -it might placate an irate Senate. No rifles, or, at most, -eight in the hands of the guards! Order would very -shortly be restored in Aphros.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, that sense of organisation, of discipline, -of which the Greeks had been conscious while listening -to the assembling of the crowd through the boards of -the school-house, was even more apparent here upon -the market-place. These islanders knew their business. -A small file of men detached itself as an escort for the -representative and the women. Julian came from the -school at the same moment with his two guards, grim<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> -and attentive, behind him. A movement of respect -produced itself in the crowd. The customs-house clerk -and his companions were not allowed to linger, but -were marched away to the steps which led down to the -jetty. They carried away with them as their final -impression of Aphros the memory of the coloured -throng and of Julian, a few paces in advance, watching -their departure.</p> - -<p class="space-above">The proclamation, the scene in the school-house, -remained as the prelude to the many pictures which -populated Julian's memory, interchangeably, of that -day. He saw himself, speaking rarely, but, as he knew, -to much purpose, seated at the head of a table in the -village assembly-room, and, down each side of the -table, the principal men of the Islands, Tsigaridis and -Zapantiotis on his either hand, grave counsellors; -he heard their speech, unreproducibly magnificent, -because a bodyguard of facts supported every phrase; -because, in the background, thronged the years of -endurance and the patient, steadfast hope. He heard -the terms of the new constitution, and the oath of -resolution to which every man subscribed. With a -swimming brain, and his eyes fixed upon the hastily-restored -portrait of his grandfather, he heard the -references to himself as head of the state—a state in -which the citizens numbered perhaps five thousand. -He heard his own voice, issuing orders whose wisdom -was never questioned: no boat to leave the Islands, -no boats to be admitted to the port, without his express -permission, a system of sentries to be instantly instituted -and maintained, day and night. As he delivered -these orders, men rose in their places, assuming the -responsibility, and left the room to execute them without -delay.</p> - -<p>He saw himself later, still accompanied by Tsigaridis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> -and Zapantiotis, but having rid himself of his two -guards, in the interior of the island, on the slopes where -the little rough stone walls retained the terraces, and -where between the trunks of the olive-trees the sea -moved, blue and glittering, below. Here the island -was dry and stony; mule-paths, rising in wide, low -steps, wandered up the slopes and lost themselves -over the crest of the hill. A few goats moved restlessly -among cactus and bramble-bushes, cropping at the -prickly stuff, and now and then raising their heads to -bleat for the kids that, more light-hearted because not -under the obligation of searching for food amongst the -vegetation, leapt after one another, up and down, in a -happy chain on their little stiff certain legs from terrace -to terrace. An occasional cypress rose in a dark spire -against the sky. Across the sea, the town of Herakleion -lay, white, curved, and narrow, with its coloured -sunblinds no bigger than butterflies, along the strip -of coast that Mount Mylassa so grudgingly allowed it.</p> - -<p>The stepped paths being impassable for carts, -Tsigaridis had collected ten mules with panniers, that -followed in a string. Julian rode ahead upon another -mule; Zapantiotis walked, his tall staff in his hand, -and his dog at his heels. Julian remembered idly -admiring the health which enabled this man of sixty-five -to climb a constantly-ascending path under a -burning sun without showing any signs of exhaustion. -As they went, the boy in charge of the mules droned -out a mournful native song which Julian recognised as -having heard upon the lips of Kato. The crickets -chirped unceasingly, and overhead the seagulls circled -uttering their peculiar cry.</p> - -<p>They had climbed higher, finally leaving behind -them the olive-terraces and coming to a stretch of -vines, the autumn vine-leaves ranging through every -shade of yellow, red, and orange; here, away from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> -shade of the olives, the sun burned down almost unbearably, -and the stones of the rough walls were too -hot for the naked hand to touch. Here it was that -the grapes were spread out, drying into currants—a -whole terrace heaped with grapes, over which a party -of young men, who sat playing at dice beneath a rough -shelter made out of reeds and matting, were mounting -guard.</p> - -<p>Julian, knowing nothing of this business, and present -only out of interested curiosity, left the command to -Zapantiotis. A few stone-pines grew at the edge of -the terrace; he moved his mule into their shade while -he watched. They had reached the summit of the -island—no doubt, if he searched far enough, he would -come across the ruins of last night's beacon, but he -preferred to remember it as a living thing rather than -to stumble with his foot against ashes, gray and dead; -he shivered a little, in spite of the heat, at the thought -of that flame already extinguished—and from the -summit he could look down upon both slopes, seeing -the island actually as an island, with the sea below upon -every side, and he could see the other islands of the -group, speckled around, some of them too tiny to be -inhabited, but all deserted now, when in the common -cause every soul had been summoned by the beacon, -the preconcerted signal, to Aphros. He imagined the -little isolated boats travelling across the moonlit waters -during the night, as he himself had travelled; little -boats, each under its triangular sail, bearing the owner, -his women, his children, and such poor belongings as -he could carry, making for the port or the creeks of -Aphros, relying for shelter upon the fraternal hospitality -of the inhabitants. No doubt they, like himself, -had travelled with their eyes upon the beacon....</p> - -<p>The young men, grinning broadly and displaying -a zest they would not have contributed towards the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> -mere routine of their lives, had left their skeleton -shelter and had fallen to work upon the heaps of drying -grapes with their large, purple-stained, wooden shovels. -Zapantiotis leant upon his staff beside Julian's mule.</p> - -<p>'See, Kyrie!' he had said. 'It was a crafty thought, -was it not? Ah, women! only a woman could have -thought of such a thing.'</p> - -<p>'A woman?'</p> - -<p>'Anastasia Kato,' the overseer had replied, reverent -towards the brain that had contrived thus craftily -for the cause, but familiar towards the great singer—of -whom distinguished European audiences spoke -with distant respect—as towards a woman of his own -people. He probably, Julian had reflected, did not -know of her as a singer at all.</p> - -<p>Beneath the grapes rifles were concealed, preserved -from the fruit by careful sheets of coarse linen; rifles, -gleaming, modern rifles, laid out in rows; a hundred, -two hundred, three hundred; Julian had no means of -estimating.</p> - -<p>He had dismounted and walked over to them; the -young men were still shovelling back the fruit, reckless -of its plenty, bringing more weapons and still more to -light. He had bent down to examine more closely.</p> - -<p>'Italian,' he had said then, briefly, and had met -Tsigaridis' eye, had seen the slow, contented smile -which spread on the old man's face, and which he had -discreetly turned aside to conceal.</p> - -<p>Then Julian, with a glimpse of all those months of -preparation, had ridden down from the hills, the string -of mules following his mule in single file, the shining -barrels bristling out of the panniers, and in the market-place -he had assisted, from the height of his saddle, at -the distribution of the arms. Two hundred and fifty, -and five hundred rounds of ammunition to each.... -He thought of the nights of smuggling represented<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> -there, of the catch of fish—the 'quick, shining harvest -of the sea'—beneath which lay the deadlier catch -that evaded the eyes of the customs-house clerks. -He remembered the robbery at the casino, and was -illuminated. Money had not been lacking.</p> - -<p>These were not the only pictures he retained of that -day; the affairs to which he was expected to attend -seemed to be innumerable; he had sat for hours in the -village assembly-room, while the islanders came and -went, surprisingly capable, but at the same time utterly -reliant upon him. Throughout the day no sign came -from Herakleion. Julian grew weary, and could barely -restrain his thoughts from wandering to Eve. He would -have gone to her room before leaving the house in the -morning, but she had refused to see him. Consequently -the thought of her had haunted him all day. One of -the messages which reached him as he sat in the assembly-room -had been from her: Would he send a boat to -Herakleion for Nana?</p> - -<p>He had smiled, and had complied, very much doubting -whether the boat would ever be allowed to return. The -message had brought him, as it were, a touch from her, -a breath of her personality which clung about the -room long after. She was near at hand, waiting for -him, so familiar, yet so unfamiliar, so undiscovered. -He felt that after a year with her much would still -remain to be discovered; that there was, in fact, no -end to her interest and her mystery. She was of no -ordinary calibre, she who could be, turn by turn, a -delicious or plaintive child, a woman of ripe seduction, -and—in fits and starts—a poet in whose turbulent and -undeveloped talent he divined startling possibilities! -When she wrote poetry she smothered herself in ink, -as he knew; so mingled in her were the fallible and the -infallible. He refused to analyse his present relation -to her; a sense, not of hypocrisy, but of decency, held<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> -him back; he remembered all too vividly the day he -had carried her in his arms; his brotherliness had been -shocked, offended, but since then the remembrance -had persisted and had grown, and now he found himself, -with all that brotherliness of years still ingrained in -him, full of thoughts and on the brink of an adventure -far from brotherly. He tried not to think these thoughts. -He honestly considered them degrading, incestuous. -But his mood was ripe for adventure; the air was full -of adventure; the circumstances were unparalleled; -his excitement glowed—he left the assembly-room, -walked rapidly up the street, and entered the Davenant -house, shutting the door behind him.</p> - -<p>The sounds of the street were shut out, and the -water plashed coolly in the open courtyard; two -pigeons walked prinking round the flat edge of the -marble basin, the male cooing and bowing absurdly, -throwing out his white chest, ruffling his tail, and -putting down his spindly feet with fussy precision. -When Julian appeared, they fluttered away to the -other side of the court to resume their convention of -love-making. Evening was falling, warm and suave, -and overhead in the still blue sky floated tiny rosy -clouds. In the cloisters round the court the frescoes -of the life of Saint Benedict looked palely at Julian, -they so faded, so washed-out, he so young and so full -of strength. Their pallor taught him that he had never -before felt so young, so reckless, or so vigorous.</p> - -<p>He was astonished to find Eve with the son of -Zapantiotis, learning from him to play the flute in -the long, low room which once had been the refectory -and which ran the full length of the cloisters. Deeply -recessed windows, with heavy iron gratings, looked -down over the roofs of the village to the sea. In one -of these windows Eve leaned against the wall holding -the flute to her lips, and young Zapantiotis, eager,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> -handsome, showed her how to place her fingers upon -the holes. She looked defiantly at Julian.</p> - -<p>'Nico has rescued me,' she said; 'but for him I -should have been alone all day. I have taught him to -dance.' She pointed to a gramophone upon a table.</p> - -<p>'Where did that come from?' Julian said, determined -not to show his anger before the islander.</p> - -<p>'From the café,' she replied.</p> - -<p>'Then Nico had better take it back; they will need -it.' Julian said, threats in his voice, 'and he had better -see whether his father cannot find him employment; -we have not too many men.'</p> - -<p>'You left me the whole day,' she said when Nico had -gone; 'I am sorry I came with you, Julian; I would -rather go back to Herakleion; even Nana has not -come. I did not think you would desert me.'</p> - -<p>He looked at her, his anger vanished, and she was -surprised when he answered her gently, even amusedly,—</p> - -<p>'You are always delightfully unexpected and yet -characteristic of yourself: I come back, thinking I -shall find you alone, perhaps glad to see me, having -spent an unoccupied day, but no, I find you with the -best-looking scamp of the village, having learnt from -him to play the flute, taught him to dance, and -borrowed a gramophone from the local café!'</p> - -<p>He put his hands heavily upon her shoulders with a -gesture she knew of old.</p> - -<p>'I suppose I love you,' he said roughly, and then -seemed indisposed to talk of her any more, but told -her his plans and arrangements, to which she did not -listen.</p> - -<p>They remained standing in the narrow window-recess, -leaning, opposite to one another, against the -thick stone walls of the old Genoese building. Through -the grating they could see the sea, and, in the distance, -Herakleion.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> -<p>'It is sufficiently extraordinary,' he remarked, -gazing across the bay, 'that Herakleion has made no -sign. I can only suppose that they will try force as -soon as Panaïoannou can collect his army, which, as -it was fully mobilised no later than yesterday, ought -not to take very long.'</p> - -<p>'Will there be fighting?' she asked, with a first show -of interest.</p> - -<p>'I hope so,' he replied.</p> - -<p>'I should like you to fight,' she said.</p> - -<p>Swaying as he invariably did between his contradictory -opinions of her, he found himself inwardly -approving her standpoint, that man, in order to be -worthy of woman, must fight, or be prepared to fight, -and to enjoy the fighting. From one so self-indulgent, -so pleasure-loving, so reluctant to face any unpleasantness -of life, he might pardonably have expected the -less heroic attitude. If she resented his absence all -day on the business of preparations for strife, might -she not equally have resented the strife that called -him from her side? He respected her appreciation of -physical courage, and remodelled his estimate to her -advantage.</p> - -<p>To his surprise, the boat he had sent for Nana returned -from Herakleion. It came, indeed, without Nana, -but bearing in her place a letter from his father:—</p> - -<blockquote><p>'<span class="smcap">Dear Julian</span>,—By the courtesy of M. Stavridis—by -whose orders this house is closely guarded, and for which I -have to thank your folly—I am enabled to send you this -letter, conditional on M. Stavridis's personal censorship. -Your messenger has come with your astonishing request -that your cousin's nurse may be allowed to return with the -boat to Aphros. I should have returned with it myself in -the place of the nurse, but for M. Stavridis's very natural -objection to my rejoining you or leaving Herakleion.</p> - -<p>'I am at present too outraged to make any comment upon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> -your behaviour. I try to convince myself that you must -be completely insane. M. Stavridis, however, will shortly -take drastic steps to restore you to sanity. I trust only -that no harm will befall you—for I remember still that you -are my son—in the process. In the meantime, I demand of -you most urgently, in my own name and that of your uncle -and aunt, that you will send back your cousin without delay -to Herakleion. M. Stavridis has had the great kindness to -give his consent to this. A little consideration will surely -prove to you that in taking her with you to Aphros you -have been guilty of a crowning piece of folly from every -point of view. I know you to be headstrong and unreflecting. -Try to redeem yourself in this one respect before it -is too late.</p> - -<p>'I fear that I should merely be wasting my time by -attempting to dissuade you from the course you have -chosen with regard to the Islands. My poor misguided boy, -do you not realise that your effort is <i>bound</i> to end in -disaster, and will serve but to injure those you most desire -to help?</p> - -<p>'I warn you, too, most gravely and solemnly, that your -obstinacy will entail <i>very serious consequences</i> for yourself. -I shall regret the steps I contemplate taking, but I have the -interest of our family to consider, and I have your uncle's -entire approval.</p> - -<p>'I am very deeply indebted to M. Stavridis, who, while -unable to neglect his duty as the first citizen of Herakleion, -has given me every proof of his personal friendship and -confidence.</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">W. Davenant.</span>'</p></blockquote> - -<p>Julian showed this letter to Eve.</p> - -<p>'What answer shall you send?'</p> - -<p>'This,' he replied, tearing it into pieces.</p> - -<p>'You are angry. Oh, Julian, I love you for being -reckless.'</p> - -<p>'I see red. He threatens me with disinheriting me. -He takes good care to remain in Stavridis' good books -himself. Do you want to go back?'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> -<p>'No, Julian.'</p> - -<p>'Of course, father is quite right: I am insane, and -so are you. But, after all, you will run no danger, and -as far compromising you, that is absurd: we have -often been alone together before now. Besides,' he -added brutally, 'you said yourself you belonged to the -Islands no less than I; you can suffer for them a little -if necessary.'</p> - -<p>'I make no complaint,' she said with an enigmatic -smile.</p> - -<p>They dined together near the fountain in the courtyard, -and overhead the sky grew dark, and the servant -brought lighted candles for the table. Julian spoke -very little; he allowed himself the supreme luxury -of being spoilt by a woman who made it her business -to please him; observing her critically, appreciatively; -acknowledging her art; noting with admiration how -the instinct of the born courtesan filled in the gaps -in the experience of the child. He was, as yet, more -mystified by her than he cared to admit.</p> - -<p>But he yielded himself to her charm. The intimacy -of this meal, their first alone together, enveloped him -more and more with the gradual sinking of night, and -his observant silence, which had originated with the -deliberate desire to test her skill and also to indulge -his own masculine enjoyment, insensibly altered into -a shield against the emotion which was gaining him. -The servant had left them. The water still plashed -into the marble basin. The candles on the table burned -steadily in the unruffled evening, and under their light -gleamed the wine—rough, native wine, red and golden—in -the long-necked, transparent bottles, and the -bowl of fruit: grapes, a cut melon, and bursting figs, -heaped with the lavishness of plenty. The table was -a pool of light, but around it the court and cloisters -were full of dim, mysterious shadows.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span></p> -<p>Opposite Julian, Eve leaned forward, propping her -bare elbows on the table, disdainfully picking at the -fruit, and talking. He looked at her smooth, beautiful -arms, and little white hands that he had always loved. -He knew that he preferred her company to any in the -world. Her humour, her audacity, the width of her range, -the picturesqueness of her phraseology, her endless -inventiveness, her subtle undercurrent of the personal, -though 'you' or 'I' might be entirely absent from her lips -all seemed to him wholly enchanting. She was a sybarite -of life, an artist; but the glow and recklessness of her -saved her from all taint of intellectual sterility. He knew -that his life had been enriched and coloured by her -presence in it; that it would, at any moment, have -become a poorer, a grayer, a less magical thing through -the loss of her. He shut his eyes for a second as he -realised that she could be, if he chose, his own possession, -she the elusive and unattainable; he might claim the -redemption of all her infinite promise; might discover -her in the rôle for which she was so obviously created; -might violate the sanctuary and tear the veils from -the wealth of treasure hitherto denied to all; might -exact for himself the first secrets of her unplundered -passion. He knew her already as the perfect companion, -he divined her as the perfect mistress; he -reeled and shrank before the unadmitted thought, -then looked across at her where she sat with an open -fig half-way to her lips, and knew fantastically that -they were alone upon an island of which he was all -but king.</p> - -<p>'A deserted city,' she was saying, 'a city of Portuguese -settlers; pink marble palaces upon the edge of -the water; almost crowded into the water by the -encroaching jungle; monkeys peering through their -ruined windows; on the sand, great sleepy tortoises; -and, twining in and out of the broken doorways of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> -palaces, orchids and hibiscus—that is Trincomali! -Would you like the tropics, I wonder, Julian? their -exuberance, their vulgarity?... One buys little -sacks full of precious stones; one puts in one's hand, -and lets the sapphires and the rubies and the emeralds -run through one's fingers.'</p> - -<p>Their eyes met; and her slight, infrequent confusion -overcame her....</p> - -<p>'You aren't listening,' she murmured.</p> - -<p>'You were only fifteen when you went to Ceylon,' -he said, gazing at the blue smoke of his cigarette. -'You used to write to me from there. You had scarlet -writing-paper. You were a deplorably affected child.'</p> - -<p>'Yes,' she said, 'the only natural thing about me -was my affectation.'</p> - -<p>They laughed, closely, intimately.</p> - -<p>'It began when you were three,' he said, 'and -insisted upon always wearing brown kid gloves; your -voice was even deeper then than it is now, and you -always called your father Robert.'</p> - -<p>'You were five; you used to push me into the prickly -pear.'</p> - -<p>'And you tried to kill me with a dagger; do you -remember?'</p> - -<p>'Oh, yes,' she said quite gravely, 'there was a period -when I always carried a dagger.'</p> - -<p>'When you came back from Ceylon you had a tiger's -claw.'</p> - -<p>'With which I once cut my initials on your arm.'</p> - -<p>'You were very theatrical.'</p> - -<p>'You were very stoical.'</p> - -<p>Again they laughed.</p> - -<p>'When you went to Ceylon,' he said, 'one of the -ship's officers fell in love with you; you were very -much amused.'</p> - -<p>'The only occasion, I think, Julian, when I ever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> -boasted to you of such a thing? You must forgive -me—il ne faut pas m'en vouloir—remember I was -only fifteen.'</p> - -<p>'Such things amuse you still,' he said jealously.</p> - -<p>'C'est possible,' she replied.</p> - -<p>He insisted,—</p> - -<p>'When did you really become aware of your own -heartlessness?'</p> - -<p>She sparkled with laughter.</p> - -<p>'I think it began life as a sense of humour,' she -said, 'and degenerated gradually into its present state -of spasmodic infamy.'</p> - -<p>He had smiled, but she saw his face suddenly darken, -and he got up abruptly, and stood by the fountain, -turning his back on her.</p> - -<p>'My God,' she thought to herself in terror, 'he has -remembered Paul.'</p> - -<p>She rose also, and went close to him, slipping her -hand through his arm, endeavouring to use, perhaps -unconsciously, the powerful weapon of her physical -nearness. He did not shake away her hand, but he -remained unresponsive, lost in contemplation of the -water. She hesitated as to whether she should boldly -attack the subject—she knew her danger; he would -be difficult to acquire, easy to lose, no more tractable -than a young colt—then in the stillness of the night -she faintly heard the music of the gramophone playing -in the village café.</p> - -<p>'Come into the drawing-room and listen to the music, -Julian,' she said, pulling at his arm.</p> - -<p>He came morosely; they exchanged the court with -its pool of light for the darkness of the drawing-room; -she felt her way, holding his hand, towards a window -seat; sat down, and pulled him down beside her; -through the rusty iron grating they saw the sea, lit up -by the rising moon.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p> - -<p>'We can just hear the music,' she whispered.</p> - -<p>Her heart was beating hard and fast: they had -been as under a spell, so close were they to one another, -but now she was bitterly conscious of having lost him. -She knew that he had slipped from the fairyland of -Aphros back to the world of principles, of morals both -conventional and essential. In fairyland, whither she -had enticed him, all things were feasible, permissible, -even imperative. He had accompanied her, she thought, -very willingly, and they had strayed together down -enchanted paths, abstaining, it is true, from adventuring -into the perilous woods that surrounded them, but -hand in hand, nevertheless, their departure from the -path potential at any rate, if not imminent. They -had been alone; she had been so happy, so triumphant. -Now he had fled her, back to another world inhabited -by all the enemies she would have had him forget: -her cruelties, her vanities—her vanities! he could -never reconcile her vanities and her splendour; he -was incapable of seeing them both at the same time; -the one excluded the other, turn and turn about, in -his young eyes; her deceptions, her evasions of the -truth, the men she had misled, the man, above all, -that she had killed and whose death she had accepted -with comparative indifference. These things rose -in a bristling phalanx against her, and she faced them, -small, afraid, and at a loss. For she was bound to -admit their existence, and the very vivid, the very -crushing, reality of their existence, all-important to -her, in Julian's eyes; although she herself might be -too completely devoid of moral sense, in the ordinary -acceptance of the word, to admit any justification for -his indignation. She knew with sorrow that they would -remain for ever as a threat in the background, and that -she would be fortunate indeed if in that background -she could succeed in keeping them more or less<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> -permanently. Her imagination sighed for a potion of -forgetfulness. Failing that, never for an instant must -she neglect her rôle of Calypso. She knew that on the -slightest impulse to anger on Julian's part—and his -impulses to anger were, alas, both violent and frequent—all -those enemies in their phalanx would instantly -rise and range themselves on his side against her. -Coaxed into abeyance, they would revive with fatal -ease.</p> - -<p>She knew him well in his present mood of gloom. -She was afraid, and a desperate anxiety to regain him -possessed her. Argument, she divined, would be futile. -She whispered his name.</p> - -<p>He turned on her a face of granite.</p> - -<p>'Why have you changed?' she said helplessly. 'I -was so happy, and you are making me so miserable.'</p> - -<p>'I have no pity for you,' he said, 'you are too pitiless -yourself to deserve any.'</p> - -<p>'You break my heart when you speak to me like -that.'</p> - -<p>'I should like to break it,' he replied, unmoved.</p> - -<p>She did not answer, but presently he heard her -sobbing. Full of suspicion, he put out his hand and -felt the tears running between her fingers.</p> - -<p>'I have made you cry,' he said.</p> - -<p>'Not for the first time,' she answered.</p> - -<p>She knew that he was disconcerted, shaken in his -harshness, and added,—</p> - -<p>'I know what you think of me sometimes, Julian. -I have nothing to say in my own defence. Perhaps -there is only one good thing in me, but that you must -promise me never to attack.'</p> - -<p>'What is it?'</p> - -<p>'You sound very sceptical,' she answered wistfully. -'My love for you; let us leave it at that.'</p> - -<p>'I wonder!' he said; and again, 'I wonder!...'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p> -<p>She moved a little closer to him, and leaned against -him, so that her hair brushed his cheek. Awkwardly -and absent-mindedly, he put his arms round her; he -could feel her heart beating through her thin muslin -shirt, and lifting her bare arm in his hand he weighed -it pensively; she lay against him, allowing him to do -as he pleased; physically he held her nearer, but morally -he was far away. Humiliating herself, she lay silent, -willing to sacrifice the pride of her body if therewith -she might purchase his return. But he, awaking with -a start from his brooding grievances, put her away -from him. If temptation was to overcome him, it -must rush him by assault; not thus, sordid and unlit.... -He rose, saying,—</p> - -<p>'It is very late; you must go to bed; good-night.'</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p> - -<h2>II</h2> - -<p>Panaïoannou attempted a landing before sunrise on -the following day.</p> - -<p>A few stars were still visible, but the moon was -paling, low in the heavens, and along the eastern -horizon the sky was turning rosy and yellow above the -sea. Earth, air, and water were alike bathed in purity -and loveliness. Julian, hastily aroused, remembered -the Islands as he had seen them from the mainland -on the day of Madame Lafarge's picnic. In such -beauty they were lying now, dependent on his defence.... -Excited beyond measure, he dressed rapidly, -and as he dressed he heard the loud clanging of the -school bell summoning the men to arms; he heard -the village waking, the clatter of banging doors, of -wooden soles upon the cobbles, and excited voices. -He rushed from his room into the passage, where he -met Eve.</p> - -<p>She was very pale, and her hair was streaming round -her shoulders. She clung to him.</p> - -<p>'Oh, Julian, what is it? why are they ringing the -bells? why are you dressed? where are you going?'</p> - -<p>He explained, holding her, stroking her hair.</p> - -<p>'Boats have been sighted, setting out from Herakleion; -I suppose they think they will take us by surprise. -You know, I have told off two men to look after you; -you are to go into the little hut which is prepared for -you in the very centre of the island. They will never -land, and you will be perfectly safe there. I will let -you know directly they are driven off. You must let -me go, darling.'</p> - -<p>'Oh, but you? but you?' she cried desperately.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p> -<p>'They won't come near me,' he replied laughing.</p> - -<p>'Julian, Julian,' she said, holding on to his coat as -he tried to loosen her fingers, 'Julian, I want you to -know: you're all my life, I give you myself, on whatever -terms you like, for ever if you like, for a week if -you like; you can do with me whatever you choose; -throw me away when you've done with me; you think -me worthless; I care only for you in the world.'</p> - -<p>He was astonished at the starkness and violence of -the passion in her eyes and voice.</p> - -<p>'But I am not going into any danger,' he said, trying -to soothe her.</p> - -<p>'For God's sake, kiss me,' she said, distraught, and -seeing that he was impatient to go.</p> - -<p>'I'll kiss you to-night,' he answered tempestuously, -with a ring of triumph as one who takes a decision.</p> - -<p>'No, no: now.'</p> - -<p>He kissed her hair, burying his face in its thickness.</p> - -<p>'This attack is a comedy, not a tragedy,' he called -back to her as he ran down the stairs.</p> - -<p class="space-above">The sentry who had first sighted the fleet of boats -was still standing upon his headland, leaning on his -rifle, and straining his eyes over the sea. Julian saw -him thus silhouetted against the morning sky. Day -was breaking as Julian came up the mule-path, a score -of islanders behind him, walking with the soft, characteristic -swishing of their white woollen skirts, and the -slight rattle of slung rifles. All paused at the headland, -which was above a little rocky creek; the green -and white water foamed gently below. Out to sea -the boats were distinctly visible, dotted about the -sea, carrying each a load of men; there might be twenty -or thirty, with ten or fifteen men in each.</p> - -<p>'They must be out of their senses,' Tsigaridis growled; -'their only hope would have lain in a surprise attack<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> -at night—which by the present moonlight would -indeed have proved equally idle—but at present they -but expose themselves to our butchery.'</p> - -<p>'The men are all at their posts?' Julian asked.</p> - -<p>'Malista, Kyrie, malista.' They remained for a little -watching the boats as the daylight grew. The colours -of the dawn were shifting, stretching, widening, and -the water, turning from iron-gray to violet, began -along the horizon to reflect the transparency of the -sky. The long, low, gray clouds caught upon their -edges an orange flush; a sudden bar of gold fell along -the line where sky and water met; a drift of tiny -clouds turned red like a flight of flamingoes; and the -blue began insensibly to spread, pale at first, then -deepening as the sun rose out of the melting clouds -and flooded over the full expanse of sea. To the left, -the coast of the mainland, with Mount Mylassa soaring, -and Herakleion at its base, broke the curve until it -turned at an angle to run northward. Smoke began -to rise in steady threads of blue from the houses of -Herakleion. The red light died away at the tip of the -pier. The gulls circled screaming, flashes of white and -gray, marbled birds; and beyond the thin line of foam -breaking against the island the water was green in the -shallows.</p> - -<p>All round Aphros the islanders were lying in pickets -behind defences, the naturally rocky and shelving -coast affording them the command of every approach. -The port, which was the only really suitable landing-place, -was secure, dominated as it was by the village; -no boat could hope to live for five minutes under -concentrated rifle fire from the windows of the houses. -The other possible landing-places—the creeks and -little beaches—could be held with equal ease by half -a dozen men with rifles lying under shelter upon the -headlands or on the ledges of the rocks. Julian was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> -full of confidence. The danger of shelling he discounted, -firstly because Herakleion possessed no man-of-war, -or, indeed, any craft more formidable than the -police motor-launch, and secondly because the authorities -in Herakleion knew well enough that Italy, for -reasons of her own, neither wholly idealistic nor -disinterested, would never tolerate the complete -destruction of Aphros. Moreover, it would be hopeless -to attempt to starve out an island whose population -lived almost entirely upon the fish caught round their -own shores, the vegetables and fruit grown upon their -own hillsides, the milk and cheeses from their own -rough-feeding goats, and the occasional but sufficient -meat from their own sheep and bullocks.</p> - -<p>'Kyrie,' said Tsigaridis, 'should we not move into -shelter?'</p> - -<p>Julian abandoned the headland regretfully. For his -own post he had chosen the Davenant house in the -village. He calculated that Panaïoannou, unaware of -the existence of a number of rifles on the island, would -make his first and principal attempt upon the port, -expecting there to encounter a hand to hand fight with -a crowd diversely armed with knives, stones, pitchforks, -and a few revolvers—a brief, bloody, desperate -resistance, whose term could be but a matter of time, -after which the village would fall into the hands of the -invaders and the rebellion would be at an end. At most, -Panaïoannou would argue, the fighting would be continued -up into the main street of the village, the -horizontal street that was its backbone, terminating -at one end by the market-place above the port, and at -the other by the Davenants' house; and ramifications -of fighting—a couple of soldiers here and there pursuing -a fleeing islander—up the sloping, narrow, stepped -streets running between the houses, at right angles -from the main street, up the hill. Julian sat with his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> -rifle cocked across his knees in one of the window -recesses of his own house, and grinned as he anticipated -Panaïoannou's surprise. He did not want a massacre -of the fat, well-meaning soldiers of Herakleion—the -casino, he reflected, must be closed to-day, much to -the annoyance of the gambling dagos; however, they -would have excitement enough, of another kind, to -console them—he did not want a massacre of the -benevolent croupier-soldiers he had seen parading the -<i>platia</i> only two days before, but he wanted them taught -that Aphros was a hornets' nest out of which they had -better keep their fingers. He thought it extremely -probable that after a first repulse they would refuse to -renew the attack. They liked well enough defiling -across the <i>platia</i> on Independence Day, and recognising -their friends amongst the admiring crowd, but he -doubted whether they would appreciate being shot -down in open boats by an enemy they could not even -see.</p> - -<p>In the distance, from the windows of his own house, -he heard firing, and from the advancing boats he could -see spurts of smoke. He discerned a commotion in -one boat; men got up and changed places, and the -boat turned round and began to row in the opposite -direction. Young Zapantiotis called to him from -another window,—</p> - -<p>'You see them, Kyrie? Some one has been hit.'</p> - -<p>Julian laughed exultantly. On a table near him -lay a crumpled handkerchief of Eve's, and a gardenia; -he put the flower into his buttonhole. Behind all his -practical plans and his excitement lay the memory of -his few words with her in the passage; under the stress -of her emotion she had revealed a depth and vehemence -of truth that he hitherto scarcely dared to imagine. -To-day would be given to him surely more than his -fair share for any mortal man: a fight, and the most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> -desirable of women! He rejoiced in his youth and his -leaping blood. Yet he continued sorry for the kindly -croupier-soldiers.</p> - -<p>The boats came on, encouraged by the comparative -silence on the island. Julian was glad it was not the -fashion among the young men of Herakleion, his friends, -to belong to the army. He wondered what Grbits was -thinking of him. He was probably on the quay, -watching through a telescope. Or had the expedition -been kept a secret from the still sleeping Herakleion? -Surely! for he could distinguish no crowd upon the -distant quays across the bay.</p> - -<p>A shot rang out close at hand, from some window of -the village, and in one of the foremost boats he saw a -man throw up his hands and fall over backwards.</p> - -<p>He sickened slightly. This was inevitable, he knew, -but he had no lust for killing in this cold-blooded -fashion. Kneeling on the window-seat he took aim -between the bars of the grating, and fired a quantity -of shots all round the boat; they splashed harmlessly -into the water, but had the effect he desired; the boat -turned round in retreat.</p> - -<p>Firing crackled now from all parts of the island. -The casualties in the boats increased. In rage and -panic the soldiers fired wildly back at the island, -especially at the village; bullets ping-ed through the -air and rattled on the roofs; occasionally there came a -crash of broken glass. Once Julian heard a cry, and, -craning his head to look down the street, he saw an -islander lying on his face on the ground between the -houses with his arms outstretched, blood running freely -from his shoulder and staining his white clothes.</p> - -<p>'My people!' Julian cried in a passion, and shot -deliberately into a boat-load of men.</p> - -<p>'God!' he said to himself a moment later, 'I've -killed him.'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p> -<p>He laid down his rifle with a gesture of horror, and -went out into the courtyard where the fountain still -played and the pigeons prinked and preened. He -opened the door into the street, went down the steps -and along the street to where the islander lay groaning, -lifted him carefully, and dragged him into the shelter -of the house. Zapantiotis met him in the court.</p> - -<p>'Kyrie,' he said, scared and reproachful, 'you should -have sent me.'</p> - -<p>Julian left him to look after the wounded man, and -returned to the window; the firing had slackened, for -the boats were now widely dispersed over the sea, -offering only isolated targets at a considerable distance. -Time had passed rapidly, and the sun had climbed high -overhead. He looked at the little dotted boats, bearing -their burden of astonishment, death, and pain. Was -it possible that the attack had finally drawn away?</p> - -<p>At that thought, he regretted that the fighting had not -given an opportunity of a closer, a more personal struggle.</p> - -<p>An hour passed. He went out into the village, -where life was beginning to flow once more into the -street and market-place; the villagers came out to -look at their broken windows, and their chipped houses; -they were all laughing and in high good-humour, -pointing proudly to the damage, and laughing like -children to see that in the school-house, which faced -the sea and in which the remaining Greek officials were -still imprisoned, nearly all the windows were broken. -Julian, shaking off the people, men and women, who -were trying to kiss his hands or his clothes, appeared -briefly in the class-room to reassure the occupants. -They were all huddled into a corner, behind a barricade -of desks and benches. The one guard who had been -left with them had spent his time inventing terrible -stories for their distress. The wooden wall opposite the -windows was pocked in two or three places by bullets.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p> -<p>As Julian came out again into the market-place he -saw old Tsigaridis riding down on his great white mule -from the direction of the hills, accompanied by two -runners on foot. He waited while the mule picked its -way carefully and delicately down the stepped path -that led from the other side of the market-place up -into the interior of the island.</p> - -<p>'They are beaten off, Tsantilas.'</p> - -<p>'No imprudences,' said the grave old man, and -recommended to the people, who came crowding round -his mule, to keep within the shelter of their houses.</p> - -<p>'But, Tsantilas, we have the boats within our sight; -they cannot return without our knowledge in ample -time to seek shelter.'</p> - -<p>'There is one boat for which we cannot account—the -motor-boat—it is swift and may yet take us by -surprise,' Tsigaridis replied pessimistically.</p> - -<p>He dismounted from his mule, and walked up the -street with Julian by his side, while the people, crestfallen, -dispersed with lagging footsteps to their -respective doorways. The motor-launch, it would -appear, had been heard in the far distance, 'over there,' -said Tsigaridis, extending his left arm; the pickets -upon the eastern coasts of the island had distinctly -heard the echo of its engines—it was, fortunately, -old and noisy—but early in the morning the sound -had ceased, and since then had not once been renewed. -Tsigaridis inferred that the launch was lying somewhere -in concealment amongst the tiny islands, from where it -would emerge, unexpectedly and in an unexpected -place, to attack.</p> - -<p>'It must carry at least fifty men,' he added.</p> - -<p>Julian revelled in the news. A motor-launch with such -a crew would provide worthier game than little cockleshell -rowing-boats. Panaïoannou himself might be of the -party. Julian saw the general already as his prisoner.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span></p> -<p>He remembered Eve. So long as the launch lay in -hiding he could not allow her to return to the village. -It was even possible that they might have a small gun -on board. He wanted to see her, he ached with the -desire to see her, but, an instinctive Epicurean, he -welcomed the circumstances that forced him to defer -their meeting until nightfall....</p> - -<p>He wrote her a note on a leaf of his pocket-book, -and despatched it to her by one of Tsigaridis' runners.</p> - -<p>The hours of waiting fretted him, and to ease his -impatience he started on a tour of the island with -Tsigaridis. They rode on mules, nose to tail along the -winding paths, not climbing up into the interior, but -keeping to the lower track that ran above the sea, -upon the first flat ledge of the rock, all around the -island. In some places the path was so narrow and so -close to the edge that Julian could, by leaning sideways -in his saddle, look straight down the cliff into -the water swirling and foaming below. He was familiar -with almost every creek, so often had he bathed there as -a boy. Looking at the foam, he murmured to himself,—</p> - -<p>'Aphros....'</p> - -<p>There were no houses here among the rocks, and no -trees, save for an occasional group of pines, whose -little cones clustered among the silvery branches, quite -black against the sky. Here and there, above creeks -or the little sandy beaches where a landing for a small -boat would have been possible, the picket of islanders -had come out from their shelter behind the boulders, -and were sitting talking on the rocks, holding their -rifles upright between their knees, while a solitary -sentinel kept watch at the extremity of the point, his -kilted figure white as the circling seagulls or as the -foam. A sense of lull and of siesta lay over the afternoon. -At every picket Julian asked the same question, -and at every picket the same answer was returned,—</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p> -<p>'We have heard no engines since earliest morning, -Kyrie.'</p> - -<p>Round the curve of the island, the first tiny, -uninhabited islands came into view. Some of them -were mere rocks sticking up out of the sea; others, a -little larger, grew a few trees, and a boat could have -hidden, invisible from Aphros, on their farther side. -Julian looked longingly at the narrow stretches of -water which separated them. He even suggested -starting to look for the launch.</p> - -<p>'It would be madness, Kyrie.'</p> - -<p>Above a little bay, where the ground sloped down -less abruptly, and where the sand ran gently down -under the thin wavelets, they halted with the picket -of that particular spot. Their mules were led away -by a runner. Julian enjoyed sitting amongst these -men, hearing them talk, and watching them roll -cigarette after cigarette with the practised skill of their -knotty fingers. Through the sharp lines of their -professional talk, and the dignity of their pleasant -trades—for they were all fishermen, vintagers, or sheep -and goat-herds—he smiled to the hidden secret of Eve, -and fancied that the soft muslin of her garments brushed, -as at the passage of a ghost, against the rude woollen -garments of the men; that her hands, little and white -and idle, fluttered over their hardened hands; that he -alone could see her pass amongst their group, smile to -him, and vanish down the path. He was drowsy in the -drowsy afternoon; he felt that he had fought and had -earned his rest, and, moreover, was prepared to rise -from his sleep with new strength to fight again. Rest -between a battle and a battle. Strife, sleep, and love; -love, sleep, and strife; a worthy plan of life!</p> - -<p>He slept.</p> - -<p>When he woke the men still sat around him, talking -still of their perennial trades, and without opening<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> -his eyes he lay listening to them, and thought that in -such a simple world the coming and going of generations -was indeed of slight moment, since in the talk of crops -and harvests, of the waxing and waning of moons, of -the treachery of the sea or the fidelity of the land, the -words of the ancestor might slip unchanged as an -inheritance to grandson and great-grandson. Of such -kindred were they with nature, that he in his half-wakefulness -barely distinguished the voices of the men -from the wash of waves on the shore. He opened his -eyes. The sun, which he had seen rising out of the sea in -the dawn, after sweeping in its great flaming arc across -the sky, had sunk again under the horizon. Heavy purple -clouds like outpoured wine stained the orange of the -west. The colour of the sea was like the flesh of a fig.</p> - -<p>Unmistakably, the throb of an engine woke the -echoes between the islands.</p> - -<p>All eyes met, all voices hushed; tense, they listened. -The sound grew; from a continuous purr it changed -into separate beats. By mutual consent, and acting -under no word of command, the men sought the cover -of their boulders, clambering over the rocks, carrying -their rifles with them, white, noiseless, and swift. -Julian found himself with three others in a species of -little cave the opening of which commanded the beach; -the cave was low, and they were obliged to crouch; -one man knelt down at the mouth with his rifle ready -to put to his shoulder. Julian could smell, in that -restricted place, the rough smell of their woollen clothes, -and the tang of the goat which clung about one man, -who must be a goat-herd.</p> - -<p>Then before their crouching position could begin to -weary them, the beat of the engines became insistent, -imminent; and the launch shot round the curve, loaded -with standing men, and heading directly for the beach. -A volley of fire greeted them, but the soldiers were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> -already overboard, waist-deep in water, plunging -towards the shore with their rifles held high over their -heads, while the crew of the launch violently reversed -the engines and drove themselves off the sand by means -of long poles, to save the launch from an irrevocable -grounding. The attack was well planned, and executed -by men who knew intimately the lie of the coast. With -loud shouts, they emerged dripping from the water -on to the beach.</p> - -<p>They were at least forty strong; the island picket -numbered only a score, but they had the advantage -of concealment. A few of the soldiers dropped while -yet in the water; others fell forward on to their faces -with their legs in the water and their heads and shoulders -on dry land; many gained a footing but were shot -down a few yards from the edge of the sea; the survivors -flung themselves flat behind hummocks of rock -and fired in the direction of the defending fire. Everything -seemed to have taken place within the compass -of two or three minutes. Julian had himself picked -off three of the invaders; his blood was up, and he had -lost all the sickening sense of massacre he had felt -during the early part of the day.</p> - -<p>He never knew how the hand to hand fight actually -began; he only knew that suddenly he was out of the -cave, in the open, without a rifle, but with his revolver -in his grasp, backed and surrounded by his own shouting -men, and confronted by the soldiers of Herakleion, -heavily impeded by their wet trousers, but fighting -sheerly for their lives, striving to get at him, losing -their heads and aiming wildly, throwing aside their -rifles and grappling at last bodily with their enemies, -struggling not to be driven back into the sea, cursing -the islanders, and calling to one another to rally, -stumbling over the dead and the wounded. Julian -scarcely recognised his own voice in the shout of,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> -'Aphros!' He was full of the lust of fighting; he had -seen men roll over before the shot of his revolver, and -had driven them down before the weight of his fist. -He was fighting joyously, striking among the waves -of his enemies as a swimmer striking out against a -current. All his thought was to kill, and to rid his -island of these invaders; already the tide had turned, -and that subtle sense of defeat and victory that comes -upon the crest of battle was infusing respectively -despair and triumph. There was now no doubt in -the minds of either the attackers or the defenders in -whose favour the attack would end. There remained -but three alternatives: surrender, death, or the sea.</p> - -<p>Already many were choosing the first, and those -that turned in the hope of regaining the launch were -shot down or captured before they reached the water. -The prisoners, disarmed, stood aside in a little sulky -group under the guard of one islander, watching, -resignedly, and with a certain indifference born of -their own secession from activity, the swaying clump -of men, shouting, swearing, and stumbling, and the -feeble efforts of the wounded to drag themselves out -of the way of the trampling feet. The sand of the -beach was in some places, where blood had been spilt, -stamped into a dark mud. A wounded soldier, lying -half in and half out of the water, cried out pitiably as -the salt water lapped over his wounds.</p> - -<p>The decision was hastened by the crew of the launch, -who, seeing a bare dozen of their companions rapidly -overpowered by a superior number of islanders, and -having themselves no fancy to be picked off at leisure -from the shore, started their engines and made off -to sea. At that a cry of dismay went up; retreat, as -an alternative, was entirely withdrawn; death an -empty and unnecessary display of heroism; surrender -remained; they chose it thankfully.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span></p> - -<h2>III</h2> - -<p>Julian never knew, nor did he stop to inquire, why -Eve had returned to the village without his sanction. -He only knew that as he came up the street, escorted by -all the population, singing, pressing around him, taking -his hands, throwing flowers and even fruit in his path, -holding up their children for him to touch, he saw her -standing in the doorway of their house, the lighted -courtyard yellow behind her. She stood there on the -highest of the three steps, her hands held out towards -him. He knew, too, although no word was spoken, that -the village recognised them as lovers. He felt again -the triumphant completeness of life; a fulfilment, -beyond the possibility of that staid world that, somewhere, -moved upon its confused, mercenary, mistaken, -and restricted way. Here, the indignities of hypocrisy -were indeed remote. There, men shorn of candour -entangled the original impulse of their motives until -in a sea of perplexity they abandoned even to the -ultimate grace of self-honesty; here, in an island of -enchantment, he had fought for his dearest and -most constituent beliefs—O honourable privilege! -unhindered and rare avowal!—fought, not with secret -weapons, but with the manhood of his body; and here, -under the eyes of fellow-creatures, their presence no -more obtrusive than the presence of the sea or the -evening breeze, under their unquestioning eyes he -claimed the just reward, the consummation, the right -of youth, which in that pharisaical world would have -been denied him.</p> - -<p>Eve herself was familiar with his mood. Whereas -he had noted, marvelled, and rejoiced at the simplicity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> -with which they came together, before that friendly -concourse of people, she had stretched out her hands -to him with an unthinking gesture of possession. She -had kept her counsel during the unpropitious years, -with a secrecy beyond the determination of a child; -but here, having gained him for her own; having -enticed him into the magical country where the -standards drew near to her own standards; where she, on -the one hand, no less than he upon the other, might fight -with the naked weapons of nature for her desires and -beliefs—here she walked at home and without surprise in -the perfect liberty; that liberty which he accepted with -gratitude, but she as a right out of which man elsewhere -was cheated. He had always been surprised, on the -rare occasions when a hint of her philosophy, a fragment -of her creed, had dropped from her lips unawares. -From these fragments he had been incapable of reconstructing -the whole. He had judged her harshly, too -young and too ignorant to query whether the falseness -of convention cannot drive those, temperamentally -direct and uncontrolled, into the self-defence of a -superlative falseness.... He had seen her vanity; -he had not seen what he was now, because himself in -sympathy, beginning to apprehend, her whole-heartedness -that was, in its way, so magnificent. Very, very -dimly he apprehended; his apprehension, indeed, -limited chiefly to the recognition of a certain correlation -in her to the vibrant demands alive in him: he asked -from her, weakness to fling his strength into relief; -submission to entice his tyranny; yet at the same time, -passion to match his passion, and mettle to exalt his -conquest in his own eyes; she must be nothing less -than the whole grace and rarity of life for his pleasure; -flattery, in short, at once subtle and blatant, supreme -and meticulous, was what he demanded, and what -she was, he knew, so instinctively ready to accord.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p> -<p>As she put her hand into his, he felt the current of -her pride as definitely as though he had seen a glance -of understanding pass between her and the women of -the village. He looked up at her, smiling. She had -contrived for herself a garment out of some strip of -dark red silk, which she had wound round her body -after the fashion of an Indian sari; in the opening of -that sombre colour her throat gleamed more than -usually white, and above her swathed slenderness her -lips were red in the pallor of her face, and her waving -hair held glints of burnish as the leaves of autumn. -She was not inadequate in her anticipation of his -unspoken demands: the exploitation of her sensuous -delicacy was all for him—for him!</p> - -<p>He had expected, perhaps, that after her proud, -frank welcome before the people, she would turn to him -when they were alone; but he found her manner full -of a deliberate indifference. She abstained even from -any allusion to her day's anxiety. He was reminded -of all their meetings when, after months, she betrayed -no pleasure at his return, but rather avoided him, and -coldly disregarded his unthinking friendliness. Many -a time, as a boy, he had been hurt and puzzled by this -caprice, which, ever meeting him unprepared, was -ever renewed by her. To-night he was neither hurt -nor puzzled, but with a grim amusement accepted the -pattern she set; he could allow her the luxury of a -superficial control. With the harmony between them, -they could play the game of pretence. He delighted -in her unexpectedness. Her reticence stirred him, -in its disconcerting contrast with his recollection of -her as he had left her that morning. She moved from -the court into the drawing-room, and from the drawing-room -back into the court, and he followed her, impersonal -as she herself, battening down all outward -sign of his triumph, granting her the grace of that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> -Epicurean and ironic chivalry. He knew their quietness -was ominous. They moved and spoke like people in -the near, unescapable neighbourhood of a wild beast, -whose attention they must on no account arouse, whose -presence they must not mention, while each intensely -aware of the peril, and each alive to the other's knowledge -of it. She spoke and laughed, and he, in response to her -laughter, smiled gravely; silence fell, and she broke it; she -thought that he took pleasure in testing her power of reviving -their protective talk; the effort increased in difficulty; -he seemed to her strangely and paralysingly sinister.</p> - -<p>Harmony between them! if such harmony existed, -it was surely the harmony of hostility. They were -enemies that evening, not friends. If an understanding -existed, it was, on her part, the understanding that he -was mocking her; on his part, the understanding that -she, in her fear, must preserve the veneer of self-assurance, -and that some fundamental convention—if -the term was not too inherently contradictory—demanded -his co-operation. He granted it. On other -occasions his manner towards her might be rough, -violent, uncontrolled; this evening it was of an irreproachable -civility. For the first time in her life she -felt herself at a disadvantage. She invented pretext -after feverish pretext for prolonging their evening. -She knew that if she could once bring a forgetful laugh -to Julian's lips, she would fear him less; but he continued -to smile gravely at her sallies, and to watch her with -that same unbending intent. In the midst of her -phrase she would look up, meet his eyes bent upon -her, and forget her words in confusion. Once he rose, -and stretched his limbs luxuriously against the background -of the open roof and the stars; she thought he -would speak, but to her relief he sat down again in his -place, removed his eyes from her, and fell to the dissection, -grain by grain, of a bunch of grapes.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> -<p>She continued to speak; she talked of Kato, even -of Alexander Christopoulos; she scarcely knew he was -not listening to her until he broke with her name into -the heart of her sentence, unaware that he interrupted. -He stood up, came round to her chair, and put his hand -upon her shoulder; she could not control her trembling. -He said briefly, but with all the repressed triumph -ringing in his voice, 'Eve, come'; and without a -word she obeyed, her eyes fastened to his, her breath -shortened, deceit fallen from her, nothing but naked -honesty remaining. She had lost even her fear of -him. In their stark desire for each other they were -equals. He put out his hand and extinguished the -candles; dimness fell over the court.</p> - -<p>'Eve,' he said, still in that contained voice, 'you -know we are alone in this house.'</p> - -<p>She acquiesced, 'I know,' not meaning to speak in -a whisper, but involuntarily letting the words glide -out with her breath.</p> - -<p>As he paused, she felt his hand convulsive upon -her shoulder; her lids lay shut upon her eyes like -heavy petals. Presently he said wonderingly,—</p> - -<p>'I have not kissed you.'</p> - -<p>'No,' she replied, faint, yet marvellously strong.</p> - -<p>He put his arm round her, and half carried her -towards the stairs.</p> - -<p>'Let me go,' she whispered, for the sake of his -contradiction.</p> - -<p>'No,' he answered, holding her more closely to him.</p> - -<p>'Where are you taking me, Julian?'</p> - -<p>He did not reply, but together they began to mount -the stairs, she failing and drooping against his arm, -her eyes still closed and her lips apart. They reached -her room, bare, full of shadows, whitewashed, with -the windows open upon the black moonlit sea.</p> - -<p>'Eve!' he murmured exultantly. 'Aphros!...'</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p> - -<h2>IV</h2> - -<p>The lyric of their early days of love piped clear and -sweet upon the terraces of Aphros.</p> - -<p>Their surroundings entered into a joyous conspiracy -with their youth. Between halcyon sky and sea the -island lay radiantly; as it were suspended, unattached, -coloured like a rainbow, and magic with the enchantment -of its isolation. The very foam which broke -around its rocks served to define, by its lacy fringe of -white, the compass of the magic circle. To them were -granted solitude and beauty beyond all dreams of -lovers. They dwelt in the certainty that no intruder -could disturb them—save those intruders to be beaten -off in frank fight—no visitor from the outside world -but those that came on wings, swooping down out of -the sky, poising for an instant upon the island, that -halting place in the heart of the sea, and flying again -with restless cries, sea-birds, the only disturbers of -their peace. From the shadow of the olives, or of the -stunted pines whose little cones hung like black velvet -balls in the transparent tracery of the branches against -the sky, they lay idly watching the gulls, and the tiny -white clouds by which the blue was almost always -flaked. The population of the island melted into a -harmony with nature like the trees, the rocks and -boulders, or the roving flocks of sheep and herds of -goats. Eve and Julian met with neither curiosity nor -surprise; only with acquiescence. Daily as they passed -down the village street, to wander up the mule-tracks -into the interior of Aphros, they were greeted by smiles -and devotion that were as unquestioning and comfortable -as the shade of the trees or the cool splash of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> -water; and nightly as they remained alone together -in their house, dark, roofed over with stars, and silent -but for the ripple of the fountain, they could believe -that they had been tended by invisible hands in the -island over which they reigned in isolated sovereignty.</p> - -<p>They abandoned themselves to the unbelievable -romance. He, indeed, had striven half-heartedly; -but she, with all the strength of her nature, had run -gratefully, nay, clamantly, forward, exacting the -reward of her patience, demanding her due. She -rejoiced in the casting aside of shackles which, although -she had resolutely ignored them in so far as was possible, -had always irked her by their latent presence. At last -she might gratify to the full her creed of living for and -by the beloved, in a world of beauty where the material -was denied admittance. In such a dream, such an -ecstasy of solitude, they gained marvellously in one -another's eyes. She revealed to Julian the full extent -of her difference and singularity. For all their nearness -in the human sense, he received sometimes with a joyful -terror the impression that he was living in the companionship -of a changeling, a being strayed by accident -from another plane. The small moralities and tendernesses -of mankind contained no meaning for her. They -were burnt away by the devastating flame of her own -ideals. He knew now, irrefutably, that she had lived -her life withdrawn from all but external contact with -her surroundings.</p> - -<p>Her sensuality, which betrayed itself even in the -selection of the arts she loved, had marked her out for -human passion. He had observed her instinct to deck -herself for his pleasure; he had learnt the fastidious -refinement with which she surrounded her body. He -had marked her further instinct to turn the conduct -of their love into a fine art. She had taught him -the value of her reserve, her evasions, and of her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> -sudden recklessness. He never discovered, and, no less -epicurean than she, never sought to discover, how far -her principles were innate, unconscious, or how far -deliberate. They both tacitly esteemed the veil of -some slight mystery to soften the harshness of their -self-revelation.</p> - -<p>He dared not invoke the aid of unshrinking honesty -to apportion the values between their physical and -their mental affinity.</p> - -<p>What was it, this bond of flesh? so material, yet -so imperative, so compelling, as to become almost a -spiritual, not a bodily, necessity? so transitory, yet -so recurrent? dying down like a flame, to revive again? -so unimportant, so grossly commonplace, yet creating -so close and tremulous an intimacy? this magic that -drew together their hands like fluttering butterflies -in the hours of sunlight, and linked them in the abandonment -of mastery and surrender in the hours of night? -that swept aside the careful training, individual and -hereditary, replacing pride by another pride? this -unique and mutual secret? this fallacious yet fundamental -and dominating bond? this force, hurling them -together with such cosmic power that within the circle -of frail human entity rushed furiously the tempest of -an inexorable law of nature?</p> - -<p>They had no tenderness for one another. Such -tenderness as might have crept into the relationship -they collaborated in destroying, choosing to dwell in -the strong clean air of mountain-tops, shunning the -ease of the valleys. Violence was never very far out -of sight. They loved proudly, with a flame that purged -all from their love but the essential, the ideal passion.</p> - -<p>'I live with a Mænad,' he said, putting out his hand -and bathing his fingers in her loosened hair.</p> - -<p>From the rough shelter of reeds and matting where -they idled then among the terraced vineyards, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> -festoons of the vines and the bright reds and yellows of -the splay leaves, brilliant against the sun, framed her -consonant grace. The beautiful shadows of lacing -vines dappled the ground, and the quick lizards darted -upon the rough terrace walls.</p> - -<p>He said, pursuing his thought,—</p> - -<p>'You have never the wish of other women—permanency? -a house with me? never the inkling -of such a wish?'</p> - -<p>'Trammels!' she replied, 'I've always hated possessions.'</p> - -<p>He considered her at great length, playing with her -hair, fitting his fingers into its waving thicknesses, -putting his cheek against the softness of her cheek, -and laughing.</p> - -<p>'My changeling. My nymph,' he said.</p> - -<p>She lay silent, her arms folded behind her head, -and her eyes on him as he continued to utter his disconnected -sentences.</p> - -<p>'Where is the Eve of Herakleion? The mask you -wore! I dwelt only upon your insignificant vanity, -and in your pride you made no defence. Most secret -pride! Incredible chastity of mind! Inviolate of -soul, to all alike. Inviolate. Most rare restraint! -The expansive vulgarity of the crowd! My Eve....'</p> - -<p>He began again,—</p> - -<p>'So rarely, so stainlessly mine. Beyond mortal -hopes. You allowed all to misjudge you, myself -included. You smiled, not even wistfully, lest that -betray you, and said nothing. You held yourself -withdrawn. You perfected your superficial life. That -profound humour.... I could not think you shallow—not -all your pretence could disguise your mystery—but, -may I be forgiven, I have thought you shallow -in all but mischief. I prophesied for you'—he laughed—'a -great career as a destroyer of men. A great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> -courtesan. But instead I find you a great lover. <i>Une -grande amoureuse.</i>'</p> - -<p>'If that is mischievous,' she said, 'my love for -you goes beyond mischief; it would stop short of no -crime.'</p> - -<p>He put his face between his hands for a second.</p> - -<p>'I believe you; I know it.'</p> - -<p>'I understand love in no other way,' she said, -sitting up and shaking her hair out of her eyes; 'I am -single-hearted. It is selfish love: I would die for you, -gladly, without a thought, but I would sacrifice my -claim on you to no one and to nothing. It is all-exorbitant. -I make enormous demands. I must have -you exclusively for myself.'</p> - -<p>He teased her,—</p> - -<p>'You refuse to marry me.'</p> - -<p>She was serious.</p> - -<p>'Freedom, Julian! romance! The world before -us, to roam at will; fairs to dance at; strange people -to consort with, to see the smile in their eyes, and the -tolerant "Lovers!" forming on their lips. To tweak -the nose of Propriety, to snatch away the chair on which -she would sit down! Who in their senses would harness -the divine courser to a mail-cart?'</p> - -<p>She seemed to him lit by an inner radiance, that -shone through her eyes and glowed richly in her smile.</p> - -<p>'Vagabond!' he said. 'Is life to be one long carnival?'</p> - -<p>'And one long honesty. I'll own you before the -world—and court its disapproval. I'll release you—no, -I'll leave you—when you tire of me. I wouldn't -clip love's golden wings. I wouldn't irk you with -promises, blackmail you into perjury, wring from you -an oath we both should know was made only to be -broken. We'll leave that to middle-age. Middle-age—I -have been told there is such a thing? Sometimes -it is fat, sometimes it is wan, surely it is always dreary!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> -It may be wise and successful and contented. Sometimes, -I'm told, it even loves. We are young. Youth!' -she said, sinking her voice, 'the winged and the divine.'</p> - -<p class="space-above">When he talked to her about the Islands, she did -not listen, although she dared not check him. He -talked, striving to interest her, to fire her enthusiasm. -He talked, with his eyes always upon the sea, since -some obscure instinct warned him not to keep them -bent upon her face; sometimes they were amongst the -vines, which in the glow of their September bronze -and amber resembled the wine flowing from their fruits, -and from here the sea shimmered, crudely and cruelly -blue between those flaming leaves, undulating into -smooth, nacreous folds; sometimes they were amongst -the rocks on the lower levels, on a windier day, when -white crests spurted from the waves, and the foam broke -with a lacy violence against the island at the edge of the -green shallows; and sometimes, after dusk, they climbed -to the olive terraces beneath the moon that rose through -the trees in a world strangely gray and silver, strangely -and contrastingly deprived of colour. He talked, lying -on the ground, with his hands pressed close against the -soil of Aphros. Its contact gave him the courage he -needed.... He talked doggedly; in the first week -with the fire of inspiration, after that with the perseverance -of loyalty. These monologues ended always in -the same way. He would bring his glance from the -sea to her face, would break off his phrase in the middle, -and, coming suddenly to her, would cover her hair, -her throat, her mouth, with kisses. Then she would -turn gladly and luxuriously towards him, curving in -his arms, and presently the grace of her murmured -speech would again bewitch him, until upon her lips -he forgot the plea of Aphros.</p> - -<p>There were times when he struggled to escape her,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> -his physical and mental activity rebelling against the -subjection in which she held him. He protested that -the affairs of the Islands claimed him; that Herakleion -had granted but a month for negotiations; precautions -must be taken, and the scheme of government amplified -and consolidated. Then the angry look came over her -face, and all the bitterness of her resentment broke -loose. Having captured him, much of her precocious -wisdom seemed to have abandoned her.</p> - -<p>'I have waited for you ten years, yet you want to -leave me. Do I mean less to you than the Islands? -I wish the Islands were at the bottom of the sea instead -of on the top of it.'</p> - -<p>'Be careful, Eve.'</p> - -<p>'I resent everything which takes you from me,' she -said recklessly.</p> - -<p>Another time she cried, murky with passion,—</p> - -<p>'Always these councils with Tsigaridis and the rest! -always these secret messages passing between you and -Kato! Give me that letter.'</p> - -<p>He refused, shredding Kato's letter and scattering -the pieces into the sea.</p> - -<p>'What secrets have you with Kato, that you must -keep from me?'</p> - -<p>'They would have no interest for you,' he replied, -remembering that she was untrustworthy—that -canker in his confidence.</p> - -<p>The breeze fanned slightly up the creek where they -were lying on the sand under the shadow of a pine, -and out in the dazzling sea a porpoise leapt, turning -its slow black curve in the water. The heat simmered -over the rocks.</p> - -<p>'We share our love,' he said morosely, 'but no other -aspect of life. The Islands are nothing to you. An -obstacle, not a link.' It was a truth that he rarely -confronted.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p> -<p>'You are wrong: a background, a setting for you, -which I appreciate.'</p> - -<p>'You appreciate the picturesque. I know. You -are an artist in appreciation of the suitable stage-setting. -But as for the rest....' he made a gesture -full of sarcasm and renunciation.</p> - -<p>'Give me up, Julian, and all my shortcomings. I -have always told you I had but one virtue. I am the -first to admit the insufficiency of its claim. Give -yourself wholly to your Islands. Let me go.' She -spoke sadly, as though conscious of her own irremediable -difference and perversity.</p> - -<p>'Yet you yourself—what were your words?—said -you believed in me; you even wrote to me, I remember -still, "conquer, shatter, demolish!" But I must -always struggle against you, against your obstructions. -What is it you want? Liberty and irresponsibility, -to an insatiable degree!'</p> - -<p>'Because I love you insatiably.'</p> - -<p>'You are too unreasonable sometimes' ('Reason!' -she interrupted with scorn, 'what has reason got to do -with love?') 'you are unreasonable to grudge me every -moment I spend away from you. Won't you realise -that I am responsible for five thousand lives? You -must let me go now; only for an hour. I promise to -come back to you in an hour.'</p> - -<p>'Are you tired of me already?'</p> - -<p>'Eve....'</p> - -<p>'When we were in Herakleion, you were always -saying you must go to Kato; now you are always -going to some council; am I never to have you to -myself?'</p> - -<p>'I will go only for an hour. I <i>must</i> go, Eve, my -darling.'</p> - -<p>'Stay with me, Julian. I'll kiss you. I'll tell you a -story.' She stretched out her hands. He shook his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> -head, laughing, and ran off in the direction of the -village.</p> - -<p>When he returned, she refused to speak to him.</p> - -<p>But at other times they grew marvellously close, -passing hours and days in unbroken union, until the -very fact of their two separate personalities became an -exasperation. Then, silent as two souls tortured, -before a furnace, they struggled for the expression -that ever eludes; the complete, the satisfying expression -that shall lay bare one soul to another soul, but that, -ever failing, mockingly preserves the unwanted boon -of essential mystery.</p> - -<p>That dumb frenzy outworn, they attained, nevertheless, -to a nearer comradeship, the days, perhaps, -of their greatest happiness, when with her reckless -fancy she charmed his mind; he thought of her then -as a vagrant nymph, straying from land to land, from -age to age, decking her spirit with any flower she met -growing by the way, chastely concerned with the quest -of beauty, strangely childlike always, pure as the -fiercest, tallest flame. He could not but bow to that -audacity, that elemental purity, of spirit. Untainted -by worldliness, greed, or malice.... The facts of -her life became clearer to him, startling in their consistency. -He could not associate her with possessions, -or a fixed abode, she who was free and elusive as a -swallow, to whom the slightest responsibility was an -intolerable and inadmissible yoke from beneath which, -without commotion but also without compunction, -she slipped. On no material point could she be touched—save -her own personal luxury, and that seemed to -grow with her, as innocent of effort as the colour on a -flower; she kindled only in response to music, poetry, -love, or laughter, but then with what a kindling! -she flamed, she glowed; she ranged over spacious and -fabulous realms; her feet never touched earth, they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> -were sandal-shod and carried her in the clean path of -breezes, and towards the sun, exalted and ecstatic, -breathing as the common air the rarity of the upper -spaces. At such times she seemed a creature blown -from legend, deriving from no parentage; single, -individual, and lawless.</p> - -<p class="space-above">He found that he had come gradually to regard her -with a superstitious reverence.</p> - -<p>He evolved a theory, constructed around her, dim and -nebulous, yet persistent; perforce nebulous, since he -was dealing with a matter too fine, too subtle, too -unexplored, to lend itself to the gross imperfect imprisonment -of words. He never spoke of it, even to her, but -staring at her sometimes with a reeling head he felt -himself transported, by her medium, beyond the -matter-of-fact veils that shroud the limit of human -vision. He felt illuminated, on the verge of a new -truth; as though by stretching out his hand he might -touch something no hand of man had ever touched -before, something of unimaginable consistency, neither -matter nor the negation of matter; as though he might -brush the wings of truth, handle the very substance of -a thought....</p> - -<p>He felt at these times like a man who passes through -a genuine psychical experience. Yes, it was as definite -as that; he had the glimpse of a possible revelation. He -returned from his vision—call it what he would, vision -would serve as well as any other word—he returned -with that sense of benefit by which alone such an -excursion—or was it incursion?—could be justified. He -brought back a benefit. He had beheld, as in a distant -prospect, a novel balance and proportion of certain -values. That alone would have left him enriched for -ever.</p> - -<p>Practical as he could be, theories and explorations<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> -were yet dear to him: he was an inquisitive adventurer -of the mind no less than an active adventurer of the -world. He sought eagerly for underlying truths. His -apparently inactive moods were more accurately his -fallow moods. His thought was as an ardent plough, -turning and shifting the loam of his mind. Yet he -would not allow his fancy to outrun his conviction; if -fancy at any moment seemed to lead, he checked it until -more lumbering conviction could catch up. They must -travel ever abreast, whip and reins alike in his control.</p> - -<p>Youth—were the years of youth the intuitive years of -perception? Were the most radiant moments the -moments in which one stepped farthest from the ordered -acceptance of the world? Moments of danger, moments -of inspiration, moments of self-sacrifice, moments of -perceiving beauty, moments of love, all the drunken -moments! Eve moved, he knew, permanently upon -that plane. She led an exalted, high-keyed inner life. -The normal mood to her was the mood of a sensitive -person caught at the highest pitch of sensibility. Was -she unsuited to the world and to the necessities of the -world because she belonged, not here, but to another -sphere apprehended by man only in those rare, keen -moments that Julian called the drunken moments? -apprehended by poet or artist—the elect, the aristocracy, -the true path-finders among the race of man!—in -moments when sobriety left them and they passed -beyond?</p> - -<p>Was she to blame for her cruelty, her selfishness, her -disregard for truth? was she, not evil, but only alien? -to be forgiven all for the sake of the rarer, more distant -flame? Was the standard of cardinal virtues set by the -world the true, the ultimate standard? Was it possible -that Eve made part of a limited brotherhood? was -indeed a citizen of some advanced state of such perfection -that this world's measures and ideals were left<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> -behind and meaningless? meaningless because unnecessary -in such a realm of serenity?</p> - -<p>Aphros, then—the liberty of Aphros—and Aphros -meant to him far more than merely Aphros—that was -surely a lovely and desirable thing, a worthy aim, a -high beacon? If Eve cared nothing for the liberty of -Aphros, was it because in <i>her</i> world (he was by now convinced -of its existence) there was no longer any necessity -to trouble over such aims, liberty being as natural and -unmeditated as the air in the nostrils?</p> - -<p>(Not that this would ever turn him from his devotion; -at most he could look upon Aphros as a stage upon the -journey towards that higher aim—the stage to which -he and his like, who were nearly of the elect, yet not of -them, might aspire. And if the day should ever come -when disillusion drove him down; when, far from -becoming a citizen of Eve's far sphere, he should cease -to be a citizen even of Aphros and should become a -citizen merely of the world, no longer young, no longer -blinded by ideals, no longer nearly a poet, but merely a -grown, sober man—then he would still keep Aphros as -a bright memory of what might have been, of the best he -had grasped, the possibility which in the days of youth -had not seemed too extravagantly unattainable.)</p> - -<p>But in order to keep his hold upon this world of Eve's, -which in his inner consciousness he already recognised -as the most valuable rift of insight ever vouchsafed to -him, it was necessary that he should revolutionise every -ancient gospel and reputable creed. The worth of Eve -was to him an article of faith. His intimacy with her -was a privilege infinitely beyond the ordinary privilege -of love. Whatever she might do, whatever crime she -might commit, whatever baseness she might perpetrate, -her ultimate worth, the core, the kernel, would remain -to him unsullied and inviolate. This he knew blindly, -seeing it as the mystic sees God; and knew it the more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> -profoundly that he could have defended it with no -argument of reason.</p> - -<p>What then? the poet, the creator, the woman, the -mystic, the man skirting the fringes of death—were they -kin with one another and free of some realm unknown, -towards which all, consciously or unconsciously, were -journeying? Where the extremes of passion (he did -not mean only the passion of love), of exaltation, of -danger, of courage and vision—where all these extremes -met—was it there, the great crossways where the moral -ended, and the divine began? Was it for Eve supremely, -and to a certain extent for all women and artists—the -visionaries, the lovely, the graceful, the irresponsible, -the useless!—was it reserved for them to show the -beginning of the road?</p> - -<p>Youth! youth and illusion! to love Eve and Aphros! -when those two slipped from him he would return -sobered to the path designated by the sign-posts and -milestones of man, hoping no more than to keep as -a gleam within him the light glowing in the sky above -that unattainable but remembered city.</p> - -<p class="space-above">He returned to earth; Eve was kneading and tormenting -a lump of putty, and singing to herself meanwhile; -he watched her delicate, able hands, took one of them, -and held it up between his eyes and the sun.</p> - -<p>'Your fingers are transparent, they're like cornelian -against the light,' he said.</p> - -<p>She left her hand within his grasp, and smiled down -at him.</p> - -<p>'How you play with me, Julian,' she said idly.</p> - -<p>'You're such a delicious toy.'</p> - -<p>'Only a toy?'</p> - -<p>He remembered the intricate, untranslatable thoughts -he had been thinking about her five minutes earlier, and -began to laugh to himself.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span></p> -<p>'A great deal more than a toy. Once I thought of you -only as a child, a helpless, irritating, adorable child, -always looking for trouble, and turning to me for help -when the trouble came.'</p> - -<p>'And then?'</p> - -<p>'Then you made me think of you as a woman,' he -replied gravely.</p> - -<p>'You seemed to hesitate a good deal before deciding -to think of me as that.'</p> - -<p>'Yes, I tried to judge our position by ordinary codes; -you must have thought me ridiculous.'</p> - -<p>'I did, darling.' Her mouth twisted drolly as she -said it.</p> - -<p>'I wonder now how I could have insulted you by -applying them to you,' he said with real wonderment; -everything seemed so clear and obvious to him now.</p> - -<p>'Why, how do you think of me now?'</p> - -<p>'Oh, God knows!' he replied. 'I've called you -changeling sometimes, haven't I?' He decided to -question her. 'Tell me, Eve, how do you explain your -difference? you outrage every accepted code, you see, -and yet one retains one's belief in you. Is one simply -deluded by your charm? or is there a deeper truth? -can you explain?' He had spoken in a bantering tone, -but he knew that he was trying an experiment of great -import to him.</p> - -<p>'I don't think I'm different, Julian; I think I feel -things strongly, no more.'</p> - -<p>'Or else you don't feel them at all.'</p> - -<p>'What do you mean?'</p> - -<p>'Well—Paul,' he said reluctantly.</p> - -<p>'You have never got over that, have you?'</p> - -<p>'Exactly!' he exclaimed. 'It seems to you extraordinary -that I should still remember Paul, or that his -death should have made any impression upon me. I -ought to hate you for your indifference. Sometimes I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> -have come very near to hating you. But now—perhaps -my mind is getting broader—I blame you for nothing -because I believe you are simply not capable of understanding. -But evidently you can't explain yourself. -I love you!' he said, 'I love you!'</p> - -<p>He knew that her own inability to explain herself—her -unself-consciousness—had done much to strengthen -his new theories. The flower does not know why or -how it blossoms....</p> - -<p class="space-above">On the day that he told her, with many misgivings, -that Kato was coming to Aphros, she uttered no word -of anger, but wept despairingly, at first without speaking, -then with short, reiterated sentences that wrung his -heart for all their unreason,—</p> - -<p>'We were alone. I was happy as never in my life. -I had you utterly. We were alone. Alone! Alone!'</p> - -<p>'We will tell Kato the truth,' he soothed her; 'she -will leave us alone still.'</p> - -<p>But it was not in her nature to cling to straws of -comfort. For her, the sunshine had been unutterably -radiant; and for her it was now proportionately -blackened out.</p> - -<p>'We were alone,' she repeated, shaking her head -with unspeakable mournfulness, the tears running -between her fingers.</p> - -<p>For the first time he spoke to her with a moved, a -tender compassion, full of reverence.</p> - -<p>'Your joy ... your sorrow ... equally overwhelming -and tempestuous. How you feel—you tragic -child! Yesterday you laughed and made yourself a -crown of myrtle.'</p> - -<p>She refused to accompany him when he went to meet -Kato, who, after a devious journey from Athens, was to -land at the rear of the island away from the curiosity -of Herakleion. She remained in the cool house, sunk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> -in idleness, her pen and pencil alike neglected. She -thought only of Julian, absorbingly, concentratedly. -Her past life appeared to her, when she thought of it -at all, merely as a period in which Julian had not loved -her, a period of waiting, of expectancy, of anguish -sometimes, of incredible reticence supported only by -the certainty which had been her faith and her -inspiration....</p> - -<p>To her surprise, he returned, not only with Kato -but with Grbits.</p> - -<p>Every word and gesture of the giant demonstrated -his enormous pleasure. His oddly Mongolian face -wore a perpetual grin of triumphant truancy. His -good-humour was not to be withstood. He wrung -Eve's hands, inarticulate with delight. Kato, her head -covered with a spangled veil—Julian had never seen her -in a hat—stood by, looking on, her hands on her hips, -as though Grbits were her exhibit. Her little eyes -sparkled with mischief.</p> - -<p>'He is no longer an officer in the Serbian army,' -she said at last, 'only a free-lance, at Julian's disposal. -Is it not magnificent? He has sent in his resignation. -His career is ruined. The military representative of -Serbia in Herakleion!'</p> - -<p>'A free-lance,' Grbits repeated, beaming down at -Julian. (It annoyed Eve that he should be so much -the taller of the two).</p> - -<p>'We sent you no word, not to lessen your surprise,' -said Kato.</p> - -<p>They stood, all four, in the courtyard by the fountain.</p> - -<p>'I told you on the day of the elections that when -you needed me I should come,' Grbits continued, his -grin widening.</p> - -<p>'Of course, you are a supreme fool, Grbits,' said -Kato to him.</p> - -<p>'Yes,' he replied, 'thank Heaven for it.'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p> -<p>'In Athens the sympathy is all with the Islands,' -said Kato. She had taken off her veil, and they could -see that she wore the gold wheat-ears in her hair. Her -arms were, as usual, covered with bangles, nor had she -indeed made any concessions to the necessities of -travelling, save that on her feet, instead of her habitual -square-toed slippers, she wore long, hideous, heelless, -elastic-sided boots. Eve reflected that she had grown -fatter and more stumpy, but she was, as ever, eager, -kindly, enthusiastic, vital; they brought with them -a breath of confidence and efficiency, those disproportionately -assorted travelling companions; Julian -felt a slight shame that he had neglected the Islands -for Eve; and Eve stood by, listening to their respective -recitals, to Grbits' startling explosions of laughter, -and Kato's exuberant joy, tempered with wisdom. -They both talked at once, voluble and excited; the -wheat-ears trembled in Kato's hair, Grbits' white regular -teeth flashed in his broad face, and Julian, a little -bewildered, turned from one to the other with his -unsmiling gravity.</p> - -<p>'I mistrust the forbearance of Herakleion,' Kato -said, a great weight of meditated action pressing on -behind her words; 'a month's forbearance! In Athens -innumerable rumours were current: of armed ships -purchased from the Turks, even of a gun mounted on -Mylassa—but that I do not believe. They have given -you, you say, a month in which to come to your senses. -But they are giving themselves also a month in which -to prepare their attack,' and she plied him with practical -questions that demonstrated her clear familiarity with -detail and tactic, while Grbits contributed nothing -but the cavernous laugh and ejaculations of his own -unquestioning optimism.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p> - -<h2>V</h2> - -<p>The second attack on Aphros was delivered within -a week of their arrival.</p> - -<p>Eve and Kato, refusing the retreat in the heart -of the island, spent the morning together in the -Davenant house. In the distance the noise of the -fighting alternately increased and waned; now crackling -sharply, as it seemed, from all parts of the sea, now -dropping into a disquieting silence. At such times -Eve looked mutely at the singer. Kato gave her no -comfort, but, shaking her head and shrugging her -shoulders, expressed only her ignorance. She found -that she could speak to Julian sympathetically of Eve, -but not to Eve sympathetically of Julian. She had -made the attempt, but after the pang of its effort, had -renounced it. Their hostility smouldered dully under -the shelter of their former friendship. Now, alone in -the house, they might indeed have remained for the -most time apart in separate rooms, but the common -anxiety which linked them drew them together, so -that when Kato moved Eve followed her, unwillingly, -querulously; and expressions of affection were even -forced from them, of which they instantly repented, -and by some phrase of veiled cruelty sought to counteract.</p> - -<p>No news reached them from outside. Every man -was at his post, and Julian had forbidden all movement -about the village. By his orders also the heavy -shutters had been closed over the windows of the -Davenant drawing-room, where Eve and Kato sat, -with the door open on to the courtyard for the sake of -light, talking spasmodically, and listening to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> -sounds of the firing. At the first quick rattle Kato -had said, 'Machine-guns,' and Eve had replied, 'Yes; -the first time—when we were here alone—he told me -they had a machine-gun on the police-launch;' then -Kato said, after a pause of firing, 'This time they have -more than one.'</p> - -<p>Eve raised tormented eyes.</p> - -<p>'Anastasia, he said he would be in shelter.'</p> - -<p>'Would he remain in shelter for long?' Kato replied -scornfully.</p> - -<p>Eve said,—</p> - -<p>'He has Grbits with him.'</p> - -<p>Kato, crushing down the personal preoccupation, -dwelt ardently on the fate of her country. She must -abandon to Eve the thought of Julian, but of the -Islands at least she might think possessively, diverting -to their dear though inanimate claim all the need of -passion and protection humanly denied her. From a -woman of always intense patriotism, she had become -a fanatic. Starved in one direction, she had doubled -her energy in the other, realising, moreover, the power of -that bond between herself and Julian. She could have -said with thorough truthfulness that her principal -cause of resentment against Eve was Eve's indifference -towards the Islands—a loftier motive than the more -human jealousy. She had noticed Julian's reluctance -to mention the Islands in Eve's presence. Alone with -herself and Grbits, he had never ceased to pour forth -the flood of his scheme, both practical and utopian, -so that Kato could not be mistaken as to the direction -of his true preoccupations. She had seen the vigour he -brought to his governing. She had observed with a -delighted grin to Grbits that, despite his Socialistic -theories, Julian had in point of fact instituted a complete -and very thinly-veiled autocracy in Hagios -Zacharie. She had seen him in the village assembly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> -when, in spite of his deferential appeals to the superior -experience of the older men, he steered blankly past -any piece of advice that ran contrary to the course -of his own ideas. She knew that, ahead of him, when -he should have freed himself finally of Herakleion -(and that he would free himself he did not for a moment -doubt), he kept always the dream of his tiny, ideal -state. She revered his faith, his energy, and his youth, -as the essence in him most worthy of reverence. And -she knew that Eve, if she loved these things in him, -loved them only in theory, but in practice regarded them -with impatient indifference. They stole him away, -came between him and her.... Kato knew well Eve's -own ideals. Courage she exacted. Talents she esteemed. -Genius, freedom, and beauty she passionately worshipped -as her gods upon earth. But she could tolerate -nothing material, nor any occupation that removed her -or the other from the blind absorption of love.</p> - -<p>Kato sighed. Far otherwise would she have cared -for Julian! She caught sight of herself in a mirror, -thick, squat, black, with little sparkling eyes; she -glanced at Eve, glowing with warmth, sleek and graceful -as a little animal, idle and seductive. Outside a crash -of firing shook the solid house, and bullets rattled -upon the roofs of the village.</p> - -<p>It was intolerable to sit unoccupied, working out -bitter speculations, while such activity raged around -the island. To know the present peril neither of Julian -nor of Aphros! To wait indefinitely, probably all -day, possibly all night!</p> - -<p>'Anastasia, sing.'</p> - -<p>Kato complied, as much for her own sake as for -Eve's. She sang some of her own native songs, then, -breaking off, she played, and Eve drew near to her, -lost and transfigured by the music; she clasped and -unclasped her hands, beautified by her ecstasy, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> -Kato's harsh thoughts vanished; Eve was, after all, a -child, an all too loving and passionate child, and not, -as Kato sometimes thought her, a pernicious force of -idleness and waste. Wrong-headed, tragically bringing -sorrow upon herself in the train of her too intense -emotions.... Continuing to play, Kato observed her, -and felt the light eager fingers upon her arm.</p> - -<p>'Ah, Kato, you make me forget. Like some drug -of forgetfulness that admits me to caves of treasure. -Underground caves heaped with jewels. Caves of the -winds; zephyrs that come and go. I'm carried away -into oblivion.'</p> - -<p>'Tell me,' Kato said.</p> - -<p>Obedient to the lead of the music, Eve wandered -into a story,—</p> - -<p>'Riding on a winged horse, he swept from east to -west; he looked down upon the sea, crossed by the -wake of ships, splashed here and there with islands, -washing on narrow brown stretches of sand, or dashing -against the foot of cliffs—you hear the waves breaking?—and -he saw how the moon drew the tides, and how -ships came to rest for a little while in harbours, but -were homeless and restless and free; he passed over -the land, swooping low, and he saw the straight streets -of cities, and the gleam of fires, the neat fields and -guarded frontiers, the wider plains; he saw the gods -throned on Ida, wearing the clouds like mantles and -like crowns, divinely strong or divinely beautiful; -he saw things mean and magnificent; he saw the -triumphal procession of a conqueror, with prisoners -walking chained to the back of his chariot, and before -him white bulls with gilded horns driven to the -sacrifice, and children running with garlands of -flowers; he saw giants hammering red iron in northern -mountains; he saw all the wanderers of the earth; Io -the tormented, and all gipsies, vagabonds, and wastrels:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> -all jongleurs, poets, and mountebanks; he saw these -wandering, but all the staid and solemn people lived -in the cities and counted the neat fields, saying, "This -shall be mine and this shall be yours." And sometimes, -as he passed above a forest, he heard a scurry of startled -feet among crisp leaves, and sometimes he heard, -which made him sad, the cry of stricken trees beneath -the axe.'</p> - -<p>She broke off, as Kato ceased playing.</p> - -<p>'They are still firing,' she said.</p> - -<p>'Things mean and magnificent,' quoted Kato slowly. -'Why, then, withhold Julian from the Islands?'</p> - -<p>She had spoken inadvertently. Consciousness of -the present had jerked her back from remembrance -of the past, when Eve had come almost daily to her -flat in Herakleion, bathing herself in the music, -wrapped up in beauty; when their friendship had -hovered on the boundaries of the emotional, in spite -of—or perhaps because of?—the thirty years that lay -between them.</p> - -<p>'I heard the voice of my fantastic Eve, of whom I -once thought,' she added, fixing her eyes on Eve, 'as -the purest of beings, utterly removed from the sordid -and the ugly.'</p> - -<p>Eve suddenly flung herself on her knees beside her.</p> - -<p>'Ah, Kato,' she said, 'you throw me off my guard -when you play to me. I'm not always hard and calculating, -and your music melts me. It hurts me to be, -as I constantly am, on the defensive. I'm too suspicious -by nature to be very happy, Kato. There are always -shadows, and ... and tragedy. Please don't judge -me too harshly. Tell me what you mean by sordid -and ugly—what is there sordid or ugly in love?'</p> - -<p>Kato dared much; she replied in a level voice,—</p> - -<p>'Jealousy. Waste. Exorbitance. Suspicion. I am -sometimes afraid of your turning Julian into another<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> -of those men who hoped to find their inspiration in a -woman, but found only a hindrance.'</p> - -<p>She nodded sagely at Eve, and the gold wheat-ears -trembled in her hair.</p> - -<p>Eve darkened at Julian's name; she got up and -stood by the door looking into the court. Kato went -on,—</p> - -<p>'You are so much of a woman, Eve, that it becomes -a responsibility. It is a gift, like genius. And a great -gift without a great soul is a curse, because such a -gift is too strong to be disregarded. It's a force, a -danger. You think I am preaching to you'—Eve -would never know what the words were costing her—'but -I preach only because of my belief in Julian—and -in you,' she hastened to add, and caught Eve's hand; -'don't frown, you child. Look at me; I have no -illusions and no sensitiveness on the score of my own -appearance; look at me hard, and let me speak to you -as a sexless creature.'</p> - -<p>Eve was touched in spite of her hostility. She was -also shocked and distressed. There was to her, so -young herself, so insolently vivid in her sex-pride, -something wrong and painful in Kato's renouncement -of her right. She had a sense of betrayal.</p> - -<p>'Hush, Anastasia,' she whispered. They were both -extremely moved, and the constant volleys of firing -played upon their nerves and stripped reserve from -them.</p> - -<p>'You don't realise,' said Kato, who had, upon impulse, -sacrificed her pride, and beaten down the feminine -weakness she branded as unworthy, 'how finely the -balance, in love, falters between good and ill. You, -Eve, are created for love; any one who saw you, even -without speaking to you, across a room, could tell you -that.' She smiled affectionately; she had, at that -moment, risen so far above all personal vanity that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> -she could bring herself to smile affectionately at Eve. -'You said, just now, with truth I am sure, that shadows -and tragedy were never very far away from you; you're -too <i>rare</i> to be philosophical. I wish there were a word -to express the antithesis of a philosopher; if I could -call you by it, I should have said all that I could wish -to say about you, Eve. I'm so much afraid of sorrow -for you and Julian....'</p> - -<p>'Yes, yes,' said Eve, forgetting to be resentful, 'I am -afraid, too; it overcomes me sometimes; it's a presentiment.' -She looked really haunted, and Kato was -filled with an immense pity for her.</p> - -<p>'You mustn't be weak,' she said gently. 'Presentiment -is only a high-sounding word for a weak thought.'</p> - -<p>'You are so strong and sane, Kato; it is easy for you -to be—strong and sane.'</p> - -<p>They broke off, and listened in silence to an outburst -of firing and shouts that rose from the village.</p> - -<p class="space-above">Grbits burst into the room early in the afternoon, -his flat sallow face tinged with colour, his clothes torn, -and his limbs swinging like the sails of a windmill. In -one enormous hand he still brandished a revolver. -He was triumphantly out of breath.</p> - -<p>'Driven off!' he cried. 'They ran up a white flag. -Not one succeeded in landing. Not one.' He panted -between every phrase. 'Julian—here in a moment. -I ran. Negotiations now, we hope. Sea bobbing with -dead.'</p> - -<p>'Our losses?' said Kato sharply.</p> - -<p>'Few. All under cover,' Grbits replied. He sat -down, swinging his revolver loosely between his knees, -and ran his fingers through his oily black hair, so that -it separated into straight wisps across his forehead. -He was hugely pleased and good-humoured, and grinned -widely upon Eve and Kato. 'Good fighting—though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> -too much at a distance. Julian was grazed on the -temple—told me to tell you,' he added, with the tardy -haste of a child who has forgotten to deliver a message. -'We tied up his head, and it will be nothing of a scratch.—Driven -off! They have tried and failed. The defence -was excellent. They will scarcely try force again. -I am sorry I missed the first fight. I could have thrown -those little fat soldiers into the sea with one hand, two -at a time.'</p> - -<p>Kato rushed up to Grbits and kissed him; they were -like children in their large, clumsy excitement.</p> - -<p>Julian came in, his head bandaged; his unconcern -deserted him as he saw Kato hanging over the giant's -chair. He laughed out loud.</p> - -<p>'A miscellaneous fleet!' he cried. 'Coastal steamers, -fort tugs, old chirkets from the Bosphorus—who was -the admiral, I wonder?'</p> - -<p>'Panaïoannou,' cried Grbits, 'his uniform military -down one side, and naval down the other.'</p> - -<p>'Their white flag!' said Julian.</p> - -<p>'Sterghiou's handkerchief!' said Grbits.</p> - -<p>'Coaling steamers, mounting machine-guns,' Julian -continued.</p> - -<p>'Stavridis must have imagined that,' said Kato.</p> - -<p>'Play us a triumphal march, Anastasia!' said Grbits.</p> - -<p>Kato crashed some chords on the piano; they all -laughed and sang, but Eve, who had taken no part at -all, remained in the window-seat staring at the ground -and her lips trembling. She heard Julian's voice calling -her, but she obstinately shook her head. He was lost -to her between Kato and Grbits. She heard them -eagerly talking now, all three, of the negotiations likely -to follow. She heard the occasional shout with which -Grbits recalled some incident in the fighting, and -Julian's response. She felt that her ardent hatred of -the Islands rose in proportion to their ardent love.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> -'He cares nothing for me,' she kept repeating to herself, -'he cares for me as a toy, a pastime, nothing more; -he forgets me for Kato and the Islands. The Islands -hold his true heart. I am the ornament to his life, -not life itself. And he is all my life. He forgets me....' -Pride alone conquered her tears.</p> - -<p class="space-above">Later, under cover of a white flag, the ex-Premier -Malteios was landed at the port of Aphros, and was -conducted—since he insisted that his visit was unofficial—to -the Davenant house.</p> - -<p>Peace and silence reigned. Grbits and Kato had -gone together to look at the wreckage, and Eve, having -watched their extraordinary progress down the street -until they turned into the market-place, was alone in -the drawing-room. Julian slept heavily, his arms flung -wide, on his bed upstairs. Zapantiotis, who had expected -to find him in the court or in the drawing-room, paused -perplexed. He spoke to Eve in a low voice.</p> - -<p>'No,' she said, 'do not wake Mr Davenant,' and, -raising her voice, she added, 'His Excellency can -remain with me.'</p> - -<p>She was alone in the room with Malteios, as she had -desired.</p> - -<p>'But why remain thus, as it were, at bay?' he said -pleasantly, observing her attitude, shrunk against the -wall, her hand pressed to her heart. 'You and I were -friends once, mademoiselle. Madame?' he substituted.</p> - -<p>'Mademoiselle,' she replied levelly.</p> - -<p>'Ah? Other rumours, perhaps—no matter. Here -upon your island, no doubt, different codes obtain. -Far be it from me to suggest.... An agreeable room,' -he said, looking round, linking his fingers behind his -back, and humming a little tune; 'you have a piano, -I see; have you played much during your leisure? -But, of course, I was forgetting: Madame Kato is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> -your companion here, is she not? and to her skill a -piano is a grateful ornament. Ah, I could envy you -your evenings, with Kato to make your music. Paris -cries for her; but no, she is upon a revolutionary island -in the heart of the Ægean! Paris cries the more. Her -portrait appears in every paper. Madame Kato, when -she emerges, will find her fame carried to its summit. -And you, Mademoiselle Eve, likewise something of a -heroine.'</p> - -<p>'I am here in the place of my cousin,' Eve said, -looking across at the ex-Premier.</p> - -<p>He raised his eyebrows, and, in a familiar gesture, -smoothed away his beard from his rosy lips with the -tips of his fingers.</p> - -<p>'Is that indeed so? A surprising race, you English. -Very surprising. You assume or bequeath very lightly -the mantle of government, do you not? Am I to -understand that you have permanently replaced your -cousin in the—ah!—presidency of Hagios Zacharie?'</p> - -<p>'My cousin is asleep; there is no reason why you -should not speak to me in his absence.'</p> - -<p>'Asleep? but I must see him, mademoiselle.'</p> - -<p>'If you will wait until he wakes.'</p> - -<p>'Hours, possibly!'</p> - -<p>'We will send to wake him in an hour's time. Can -I not entertain you until then?' she suggested, her -natural coquetry returning.</p> - -<p>She left the wall against which she had been leaning, -and, coming across to Malteios, gave him her fingers -with a smile. The ex-Premier had always figured -picturesquely in her world.</p> - -<p>'Mademoiselle,' he said, kissing the fingers she -gave him, 'you are as delightful as ever, I am -assured.'</p> - -<p>They sat, Malteios impatient and ill at ease, unwilling -to forego his urbanity, yet tenacious of his purpose.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> -In the midst of the compliments he perfunctorily -proffered, he broke out,—</p> - -<p>'Children! <i>Ces gosses.... Mais il est fou, voyons, -votre cousin</i>. What is he thinking about? He has -created a ridiculous disturbance; well, let that pass; -we overlook it, but this persistence.... Where is it -all to end? Obstinacy feeds and grows fat upon -obstinacy; submission grows daily more impossible, -more remote. His pride is at stake. A threat, well -and good; let him make his threat; he might then -have arrived at some compromise. I, possibly, might -myself have acted as mediator between him and my -friend and rival, Gregori Stavridis. In fact, I am here -to-day in the hope that my effort will not come too -late. But after so much fighting! Tempers run high -no doubt in the Islands, and I can testify that they -run high in Herakleion. Anastasia—probably you -know this already—Madame Kato's flat is wrecked. -Yes, the mob. We are obliged to keep a cordon of -police always before your uncle's house. Neither he -nor your father and mother dare to show themselves -at the windows. It is a truly terrible state of affairs.'</p> - -<p>He reverted to the deeper cause of his resentment,—</p> - -<p>'I could have mediated, in the early days, so well -between your cousin and Gregori Stavridis. Pity, -pity, pity!' he said, shaking his head and smiling his -benign, regretful smile that to-day was tinged with a -barely concealed bitterness, 'a thousand pities, -mademoiselle.'</p> - -<p>He began again, his mind on Herakleion,—</p> - -<p>'I have seen your father and mother, also your -uncle. They are very angry and impotent. Because -the people threw stones at their windows and even, -I regret to say, fired shots into the house from the -<i>platia</i>, the windows are all boarded over and they live -by artificial light. I have seen them breakfasting by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> -candles. Yes. Your, father, your mother, and your -uncle, breakfasting together in the drawing-room with -lighted candles on the table. I entered the house from -the back. Your father said to me apprehensively, -"I am told Madame Kato's flat was wrecked last night?" -and your mother said, "Outrageous! She is infatuated, -either with those Islands or with that boy. She will -not care. All her possessions, littering the quays! -An outrage." Your uncle said to me, "See the boy, -Malteios! Talk to him. We are hopeless." Indeed -they appeared hopeless, although not resigned, and -sat with their hands hanging by their sides instead of -eating their eggs; your mother, even, had lost her -determination.</p> - -<p>'I tried to reassure them, but a rattle of stones on -the boarded windows interrupted me. Your uncle got -up and flung away his napkin. "One cannot breakfast -in peace," he said petulantly, as though that constituted -his most serious grievance. He went out of the -room, but the door had scarcely closed behind him -before it reopened and he came back. He was quite -altered, very irritable, and all his courteous gravity -gone from him. "See the inconvenience," he said to -me, jerking his hands, "all the servants have gone -with my son, all damned islanders." I found nothing -to say.'</p> - -<p>'Kato may return to Herakleion with you?' Eve -suggested after a pause during which Malteios recollected -himself, and tried to indicate by shrugs and -rueful smiles that he considered the bewilderment of -the Davenants a deplorable but nevertheless entertaining -joke. At the name of Kato a change came over his face.</p> - -<p>'A fanatic, that woman,' he replied; 'a martyr who -will rejoice in her martyrdom. She will never leave -Aphros while the cause remains.—A heroic woman,' -he said, with unexpected reverence.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p> -<p>He looked at Eve, his manner veering again to the -insinuating and the crafty; his worse and his better -natures were perpetually betraying themselves.</p> - -<p>'Would she leave Aphros? no! Would your cousin -leave Aphros? no! They have between them the -bond of a common cause. I know your cousin. He is -young enough to be an idealist. I know Madame Kato. -She is old enough to applaud skilfully. Hou!' He -spread his hands. 'I have said enough.'</p> - -<p>Eve revealed but little interest, though for the first -time during their interview her interest was passionately -aroused. Malteios watched her, new schemes germinating -in his brain; they played against one another, -their hands undeclared, a blind, tentative game. This -conversation, which had begun as it were accidentally, -fortuitously, turned to a grave significance along a -road whose end lay hidden far behind the hills of the -future. It led, perhaps, nowhere. It led, perhaps....</p> - -<p>Eve said lightly,—</p> - -<p>'I am outdistanced by Kato and my cousin; I don't -understand politics, or those impersonal friendships.'</p> - -<p>'Mademoiselle,' Malteios replied, choosing his words -and infusing into them an air of confidence, 'I tell -you an open secret, but one to which I would never -refer save with a sympathetic listener like yourself, -when I tell you that for many years a friendship existed -between myself and Madame Kato, political indeed, -but not impersonal. Madame Kato,' he said, drawing -his chair a little nearer and lowering his voice, 'is not -of the impersonal type.'</p> - -<p>Eve violently rebelled from his nearness; fastidious, -she loathed his goatish smile, his beard, his rosy lips, -but she continued to smile to him, a man who held, -perhaps, one of Julian's secrets. She was aware of -the necessity of obtaining that secret. Of the dishonour -towards Julian, sleeping away his hurts and his fatigue<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> -in the room above, she was blindly unaware. Love to -her was a battle, not a fellowship. She must know! -Already her soul, eagerly receptive and bared to the -dreaded blow, had adopted the theory of betrayal. -In the chaos of her resentments and suspicions, she -remembered how Kato had spoken to her in the morning, -and without further reflection branded that conversation -as a blind. She even felt a passing admiration -for the other woman's superior cleverness. She, Eve, -had been completely taken in.... So she must -contend, not only against the Islands, but against Kato -also? Anguish and terror rushed over her. She scarcely -knew what she believed or did not believe, only that -her mind was one seething and surging tumult of -mistrust and all-devouring jealousy. She was on the -point of abandoning her temperamentally indirect -methods, of stretching out her hands to Malteios, and -crying to him for the agonising, the fiercely welcome -truth, when he said,—</p> - -<p>'Impersonal? Do you, mademoiselle, know anything -of your sex? Ah, charming! disturbing, precious, -indispensable, even heroic, tant que vous voudrez, but -impersonal, no! Man, yes, sometimes. Woman, -never. Never.' He took her hand, patted it, kissed -the wrist, and murmured, 'Chère enfant, these are not -ideas for your pretty head.'</p> - -<p>She knew from experience that his preoccupation -with such theories, if no more sinister motive, would -urge him towards a resumption of the subject, and -after a pause full of cogitation he continued,—</p> - -<p>'Follow my advice, mademoiselle: never give your -heart to a man concerned in other affairs. You may -love, both of you, but you will strive in opposite -directions. Your cousin, for example.... And yet,' -he mused, 'you are a woman to charm the leisure of a -man of action. The toy of a conqueror.' He laughed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> -'Fortunately, conquerors are rare.' But she knew he -hovered round the image of Julian. 'Believe me, -leave such men to such women as Kato; they are more -truly kin. You—I discover you—are too exorbitant; -love would play too absorbing a rôle. You would -tolerate no rival, neither a person nor a fact. Your -eyes smoulder; I am near the truth?'</p> - -<p>'One could steal the man from his affairs,' she said -almost inaudibly.</p> - -<p>'The only hope,' he replied.</p> - -<p>A long silence fell, and his evil benevolence gained -on her; on her aroused sensitiveness his unspoken -suggestions fell one by one as definitely as the -formulated word. He watched her; she trembled, -half compelled by his gaze. At length, under the -necessity of breaking the silence, she said,—</p> - -<p>'Kato is not such a woman; she would resent no -obstacle.'</p> - -<p>'Wiser,' he added, 'she would identify herself with -it.'</p> - -<p>He began to banter horribly,—</p> - -<p>'Ah, child, Eve, child made for love, daily bless -your cousinship! Bless its contemptuous security. -Smile over the confabulations of Kato and your cousin. -Smile to think that he, she, and the Islands are bound -in an indissoluble triology. If there be jealousy to -suffer, rejoice in that it falls, not to your share, but to -mine, who am old and sufficiently philosophical. Age -and experience harden, you know. Else, I could not -see Anastasia Kato pass to another with so negligible -a pang. Yet the imagination makes its own trouble. -A jealous imagination.... Very vivid. Pictures of -Anastasia Kato in your cousin's arms—ah, crude, -crude, I know, but the crudity of the jealous imagination -is unequalled. Not a detail escapes. That is why -I say, bless your cousinship and its security.' He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> -glanced up and met her tortured eyes. 'As I bless my -philosophy of the inevitable,' he finished softly, -caressing her hand which he had retained all the -while.</p> - -<p>No effort at 'Impossible!' escaped her; almost from -the first she had blindly adopted his insinuations. -She even felt a perverse gratitude towards him, and a -certain fellowship. They were allies. Her mind was -now set solely upon one object. That self-destruction -might be involved did not occur to her, nor would she -have been deterred thereby. Like Samson, she had -her hands upon the columns....</p> - -<p>'Madame Kato lives in this house?' asked Malteios, -as one who has been following a train of thought.</p> - -<p>She shook her head, and he noticed that her eyes -were turned slightly inwards, as with the effort of an -immense concentration.</p> - -<p>'You have power,' he said with admiration.</p> - -<p>Bending towards her, he began to speak in a very -low, rapid voice; she sat listening to him, by no word -betraying her passionate attention, nodding only from -time to time, and keeping her hands very still, linked -in her lap. Only once she spoke, to ask a question, -'He would leave Herakleion?' and Malteios replied, -'Inevitably; the question of the Islands would be for -ever closed for him;' then she said, producing the words -from afar off, 'He would be free,' and Malteios, working -in the dark, following only one of the two processes of -her thought, reverted to Kato; his skill could have been -greater in playing upon the instrument, but even so it -sufficed, so taut was the stringing of the cords. When -he had finished speaking, she asked him another question, -'He could never trace the thing to me?' and he reassured -her with a laugh so natural and contemptuous -that she, in her ingenuity, was convinced. All the while -she had kept her eyes fastened on his face, on his rosy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> -lips moving amongst his beard, that she might lose -no detail of his meaning or his instructions, and at one -moment he had thought, 'There is something terrible -in this child,' but immediately he had crushed the -qualm, thinking, 'By this recovery, if indeed it is to -be, I am a made man,' and thanking the fate that had -cast this unforeseen chance across his path. Finally -she heard his voice change from its earnest undertone -to its customary platitudinous flattery, and turning -round she saw that Julian had come into the room, his -eyes already bent with brooding scorn upon the emissary.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p> - -<h2>VI</h2> - -<p>She was silent that evening, so silent that Grbits, -the unobservant, commented to Kato; but after they -had dined, all four, by the fountain in the court, she -flung aside her preoccupation, laughed and sang, -forced Kato to the piano, and danced with reckless -inspiration to the accompaniment of Kato's songs. -Julian, leaning against a column, watched her bewildering -gaiety. She had galvanised Grbits into movement—he -who was usually bashful with women, especially -with Eve, reserving his enthusiasm for Julian—and -as she passed and re-passed before Julian in the grasp -of the giant she flung at him provocative glances -charged with a special meaning he could not interpret; -in the turn of her dance he caught her smile and the -flash of her eyes, and smiled in response, but his smile -was grave, for his mind ran now upon the crisis with -Herakleion, and, moreover, he suffered to see Eve so -held by Grbits, her turbulent head below the giant's -shoulder, and regretted that her gaiety should not be -reserved for him alone. Across the court, through the -open door of the drawing-room, he could see Kato at -the piano, full of delight, her broad little fat hands and -wrists racing above the keyboard, her short torso -swaying to the rhythm, her rich voice humming, and -the gold wheat ears shaking in her hair. She called to -him, and, drawing a chair close to the piano, he sat -beside her, but through the door he continued to stare -at Eve dancing in the court. Kato said as she played, -her perception sharpened by the tormented watch she -kept on him,—</p> - -<p>'Eve celebrates your victory of yesterday,' to which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> -he replied, deceived by the kindly sympathy in her -eyes,—</p> - -<p>'Eve celebrates her own high spirits and the -enjoyment of a new partner; my doings are of the -last indifference to her.'</p> - -<p>Kato played louder; she bent towards him,—</p> - -<p>'You love her so much, Julian?'</p> - -<p>He made an unexpected answer,—</p> - -<p>'I believe in her.'</p> - -<p>Kato, a shrewd woman, observed him, thinking,—'He -does not; he wants to convince himself.'</p> - -<p>She said aloud, conscientiously wrenching out the -truth as she saw it,—</p> - -<p>'She loves you; she is capable of love such as is -granted to few; that is the sublime in her.'</p> - -<p>He seized upon this, hungrily, missing meanwhile -the sublime in the honesty of the singer,—</p> - -<p>'Since I am given so much, I should not exact more. -The Islands.... She gives all to me. I ought not to -force the Islands upon her.'</p> - -<p>'Grapes of thistles,' Kato said softly.</p> - -<p>'You understand,' he murmured with gratitude. -'But why should she hamper me, Anastasia? Are all -women so irrational? What am I to believe?'</p> - -<p>'We are not so irrational as we appear,' Kato said, -'because our wildest sophistry has always its roots in -the truth of instinct.'</p> - -<p>Eve was near them, crying out,—</p> - -<p>'A tarantella, Anastasia!'</p> - -<p>Julian sprang up; he caught her by the wrist,—</p> - -<p>'Gipsy!'</p> - -<p>'Come with the gipsy?' she whispered.</p> - -<p>Her scented hair blew near him, and her face was -upturned, with its soft, sweet mouth.</p> - -<p>'Away from Aphros?' he said, losing his head.</p> - -<p>'All over the world!'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span></p> -<p>He was suddenly swept away by the full force of -her wild, irresponsible seduction.</p> - -<p>'Anywhere you choose, Eve.'</p> - -<p>She triumphed, close to him, and wanton.</p> - -<p>'You'd sacrifice Aphros to me?'</p> - -<p>'Anything you asked for,' he said desperately.</p> - -<p>She laughed, and danced away, stretching out her -hands towards him,—</p> - -<p>'Join in the saraband, Julian?'</p> - -<p class="space-above">She was alone in her room. Her emotion and excitement -were so intense that they drained her of physical -strength, leaving her faint and cold; her eyes closed -now and then as under the pressure of pain; she yawned, -and her breath came shortly between her lips; she -sat by the open window, rose to move about the -room, sat again, rose again, passed her hand constantly -over her forehead, or pressed it against the base of -her throat. The room was in darkness; there was no -moon, only the stars hung over the black gulf of the -sea. She could see the long, low lights of Herakleion, -and the bright red light of the pier. She could hear -distant shouting, and an occasional shot. In the room -behind her, her bed was disordered. She wore only -her Spanish shawl thrown over her long nightgown; -her hair hung in its thick plait. Sometimes she formed, -in a whisper, the single word, 'Julian!'</p> - -<p>She thought of Julian. Julian's rough head and -angry eyes. Julian when he said, 'I shall break you,' -like a man speaking to a wild young supple tree. (Her -laugh of derision, and her rejoicing in her secret fear!) -Julian in his lazy ownership of her beauty. Julian -when he allowed her to coax him from his moroseness. -Julian when she was afraid of him and of the storm -she had herself aroused: Julian passionate....</p> - -<p>Julian whom she blindly wanted for herself alone.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p> -<p>That desire had risen to its climax. The light of -no other consideration filtered through into her closely -shuttered heart. She had waited for Julian, schemed -for Julian, battled for Julian; this was the final battle. -She had not foreseen it. She had tolerated and even -welcomed the existence of the Islands until she began -to realise that they took part of Julian from her. Then -she hated them insanely, implacably; including Kato, -whom Julian had called their tutelary deity, in that -hatred. Had Julian possessed a dog, she would have -hated that too.</p> - -<p>The ambitions she had vaguely cherished for him -had not survived the test of surrendering a portion of -her own inordinate claim.</p> - -<p>She had joined battle with the Islands as with a -malignant personality. She was fighting them for the -possession of Julian as she might have fought a woman -she thought more beautiful, more unscrupulous, more -appealing than herself, but with very little doubt of -ultimate victory. Julian would be hers, at last; more -completely hers than he had been even in those ideal, -uninterrupted days before Grbits and Kato came, the -days when he forgot his obligations, almost his life's -dream for her. Love all-eclipsing.... She stood -at the window, oppressed and tense, but in the soft -silken swaying of her loose garments against her limbs -she still found a delicately luxurious comfort.</p> - -<p>Julian had been called away, called by the violent -hammering on the house-door; it had then been after -midnight. Two hours had passed since then. No one -had come to her, but she had heard the tumult of many -voices in the streets, and by leaning far out of the -window she could see a great flare burning up from the -market-place. She had thought a house might be on -fire. She could not look back over her dispositions; -they had been completed in a dream, as though under<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> -direct dictation. It did not occur to her to be concerned -as to their possible miscarriage; she was too ignorant of -such matters, too unpractical, to be troubled by any -such anxiety. She had carried out Malteios' instructions -with intense concentration; there her part had ended. -The fuse which she had fired was burning.... If -Julian would return, to put an end to her impatience!</p> - -<p>(Down in the market-place the wooden school-buildings -flamed and crackled, redly lighting up the -night, and fountains of sparks flew upward against the -sky. The lurid market-place was thronged with sullen -groups of islanders, under the guard of the soldiers of -Herakleion. In the centre, on the cobbles, lay the body -of Tsigaridis, on his back, arms flung open, still, in the -enormous pool of blood that crept and stained the edges -of his spread white fustanelle. Many of the islanders -were not fully dressed, but had run out half-naked -from their houses, only to be captured and disarmed -by the troops; the weapons which had been taken -from them lay heaped near the body of Tsigaridis, the -light of the flames gleaming along the blades of knives -and the barrels of rifles, and on the bare bronzed chests -of men, and limbs streaked with trickles of bright red -blood. They stood proudly, contemptuous of their -wounds, arms folded, some with rough bandages about -their heads. Panaïoannou, leaning both hands on the -hilt of his sword, and grinning sardonically beneath -his fierce moustaches, surveyed the place from the -steps of the assembly-room).</p> - -<p>Eve in her now silent room realised that all sounds -of tumult had died away. A shivering came over her, -and, impelled by a suddenly understood necessity, she -lit the candles on her dressing-table and, as the room -sprang into light, began flinging the clothes out of the -drawers into a heap in the middle of the floor. They -fluttered softly from her hands, falling together in all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> -their diverse loveliness of colour and fragility of texture. -She paused to smile to them, friends and allies. She -remembered now, with the fidelity of a child over a -well-learnt lesson, the final words of Malteios, 'A boat -ready for you both to-night, secret and without delay,' -as earlier in the evening she had remembered his other -words, 'Midnight, at the creek at the back of the -islands ...'; she had acted upon her lesson mechanically, -and in its due sequence, conscientious, trustful.</p> - -<p>She stood amongst her clothes, the long red sari -which she had worn on the evening of Julian's first -triumph drooping from her hand. They foamed about -her feet as she stood doubtfully above them, strangely -brilliant herself in her Spanish shawl. They lay in a -pool of rich delicacy upon the floor. They hung over -the backs of chairs, and across the tumbled bed. They -pleased her; she thought them pretty. Stooping, she -raised them one by one, and allowed them to drop -back on to the heap, aware that she must pack them -and must also dress herself. But she liked their butterfly -colours and gentle rustle, and, remembering that -Julian liked them too, smiled to them again. He found -her standing there amongst them when after a knock -at her door he came slowly into her room.</p> - -<p>He remained by the door for a long while looking -at her in silence. She had made a sudden, happy -movement towards him, but inexplicably had stopped, -and with the sari still in her hand gazed back at him, -waiting for him to speak. He looked above all, mortally -tired. She discovered no anger in his face, not even -sorrow; only that mortal weariness. She was touched; -she to whom those gentler emotions were usually foreign.</p> - -<p>'Julian?' she said, seized with doubt.</p> - -<p>'It is all over,' he began, quite quietly, and he put -his hand against his forehead, which was still bandaged, -raising his arm with the same lassitude; 'they landed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> -where young Zapantiotis was on guard, and he let them -through; they were almost at the village before they -were discovered. There was very little fighting. They -have allowed me to come here. They are waiting for -me downstairs. I am to leave.'</p> - -<p>'Yes,' she said, and looked down at her heap of -clothes.</p> - -<p>He did not speak again, and gradually she realised -the implication of his words.</p> - -<p>'Zapantiotis....' she said.</p> - -<p>'Yes,' he said, raising his eyes again to her face, -'yes, you see, Zapantiotis confessed it all to me when -he saw me. He was standing amongst a group of -prisoners, in the market-place, but when I came by -he broke away from the guards and screamed out to me -that he had betrayed us. Betrayed us. He said he -was tempted, bribed. He said he would cut his own -throat. But I told him not to do that.'</p> - -<p>She began to tremble, wondering how much he knew. -He added, in the saddest voice she had ever heard,—</p> - -<p>'Zapantiotis, an islander, could not be faithful.'</p> - -<p>Then she was terrified; she did not know what was -coming next, what would be the outcome of this quietness. -She wanted to go towards him, but she could -only remain motionless, holding the sari up to her -breast as a means of protection.</p> - -<p>'At least,' he said, 'old Zapantiotis is dead, and will -never know about his son. Where can one look for -fidelity? Tsigaridis is dead too, and Grbits. I am -ashamed of being alive.'</p> - -<p>She noticed then that he was disarmed.</p> - -<p>'Why do you stand over there, Julian?' she said -timidly.</p> - -<p>'I wonder how much you promised Zapantiotis?' he -said in a speculative voice; and next, stating a fact, -'You were, of course, acting on Malteios' suggestion.'</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p> -<p>'You know?' she breathed. She was quite sure now -that he was going to kill her.</p> - -<p>'Zapantiotis tried to tell me that too—in a strange -jumble of confessions. But they dragged him away -before he could say more than your bare name. That -was enough for me. So I know, Eve.'</p> - -<p>'Is that all you were going to say?'</p> - -<p>He raised his arms and let them fall.</p> - -<p>'What is there to say?'</p> - -<p>Knowing him very well, she saw that his quietness -was dropping from him; she was aware of it perhaps -before he was aware of it himself. His eyes were losing -their dead apathy, and were travelling round the room; -they rested on the heap of clothes, on her own drawing -of himself hanging on the wall, on the disordered bed. -They flamed suddenly, and he made a step towards her.</p> - -<p>'Why? why? why?' he cried out with the utmost -anguish and vehemence, but stopped himself, and -stood with clenched fists. She shrank away. 'All -gone—in an hour!' he said, and striding towards her -he stood over her, shaken with a tempest of passion. -She shrank farther from him, retreating against the -wall, but first she stooped and gathered her clothes -around her again, pressing her back against the wall -and cowering with the clothes as a rampart round her -feet. But as yet full realisation was denied her; she -knew that he was angry, she thought indeed that he -might kill her, but to other thoughts of finality she was, -in all innocence, a stranger.</p> - -<p>He spoke incoherently, saying, 'All gone! All gone!' -in accents of blind pain, and once he said, 'I thought -you loved me,' putting his hands to his head as though -walls were crumbling. He made no further reproach, -save to repeat, 'I thought the men were faithful, and -that you loved me,' and all the while he trembled with -the effort of his self-control, and his twitching hands<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> -reached out towards her once or twice, but he forced -them back. She thought, 'How angry he is! but he -will forget, and I shall make up to him for what he has -lost.' So, between them, they remained almost silent, -breathing hard, and staring at one another.</p> - -<p>'Come, put up your clothes quickly,' he said at last, -pointing; 'they want us off the island, and if we do -not go of our own accord they will tie our hands and -feet and carry us to the boat. Let us spare ourselves -that ludicrous scene. We can marry in Athens -to-morrow.'</p> - -<p>'Marry?' she repeated.</p> - -<p>'Naturally. What else did you suppose? That I -should leave you? now? Put up your clothes. Shall -I help you? Come!'</p> - -<p>'But—marry, Julian?'</p> - -<p>'Clearly: marry,' he replied in a harsh voice, and -added, 'Let us go. For God's sake, let us go now! I -feel stunned, I mustn't begin to think. Let us go.' -He urged her towards the door.</p> - -<p>'But we had nothing to do with marriage,' she -whispered.</p> - -<p>He cried, so loudly and so bitterly that she was -startled,—</p> - -<p>'No, we had to do only with love—love and rebellion! -And both have failed me. Now, instead of love, we -must have marriage; and instead of rebellion, law. -I shall help on authority, instead of opposing it.' He -broke down and buried his face in his hands.</p> - -<p>'You no longer love me,' she said slowly, and her -eyes narrowed and turned slightly inwards in the way -Malteios had noticed. 'Then the Islands....'</p> - -<p>He pressed both hands against his temples and -screamed like one possessed, 'But they were all in all -in all! It isn't the thing, it's the soul behind the thing. -In robbing me of them you've robbed me of more than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> -them—you've robbed me of all the meaning that lay -behind them.' He retained just sufficient self-possession -to realise this. 'I knew you were hostile, how -could I fail to know it? but I persuaded myself that -you were part of Aphros, part of all my beliefs, even -something beyond all my beliefs. I loved you, so you -and they had to be reconciled. I reconciled you in -secret. I gave up mentioning the Islands to you because -it stabbed me to see your indifference. It destroyed the -illusion I was cherishing. So I built up fresh, separate -illusions about you. I have been living on illusions, -now I have nothing left but facts. I owe this to you, -to you, to you!'</p> - -<p>'You no longer love me,' she said again. She could -think of nothing else. She had not listened to his bitter -and broken phrases. 'You no longer love me, Julian.'</p> - -<p>'I was so determined that I would be deceived by -no woman, and like every one else I have fallen into -the trap. Because you were you, I ceased to be on my -guard. Oh, you never pretended to care for Aphros; -I grant you that honesty; but I wanted to delude myself -and so I was deluded. I told myself marvellous tales -of your rarity; I thought you were above even Aphros. -I am punished for my weakness in bringing you here. -Why hadn't I the strength to remain solitary? I -reproach myself; I had not the right to expose my -Islands to such a danger. But how could I have known? -how could I have known?'</p> - -<p>'Clearly you no longer love me,' she said for the -third time.</p> - -<p>'Zapantiotis sold his soul for money—was it money -you promised him?' he went on. 'So easily—just for -a little money! His soul, and all of us, for money. -Money, father's god; he's a wise man, father, to serve -the only remunerative god. Was it money you promised -Zapantiotis?' he shouted at her, seizing her by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> -arm, 'or was he, perhaps, like Paul, in love with you? -Did you perhaps promise him yourself? How am I to -know? There may still be depths in you—you -woman—that I know nothing about. Did you give -yourself to Zapantiotis? Or is he coming to-night for -his reward? Did you mean to ship me off to Athens, -you and your accomplices, while you waited here in -this room—<i>our</i> room—for your lover?'</p> - -<p>'Julian!' she cried—he had forced her on to her -knees—'you are saying monstrous things.'</p> - -<p>'You drive me to them,' he replied; 'when I think -that while the troops were landing you lay in my arms, -here, knowing all the while that you had betrayed me—I -could believe anything of you. Monstrous things! -Do you know what monstrous things I am thinking? -That you shall not belong to Zapantiotis, but to me. -Yes, to me. You destroy love, but desire revives, -without love; horrible, but sufficient. That's what -I am thinking. I dare say I could kiss you still, and -forget. Come!'</p> - -<p>He was beside himself.</p> - -<p>'Your accusations are so outrageous,' she said, -half-fainting, 'your suggestions are obscene, Julian; -I would rather you killed me at once.'</p> - -<p>'Then answer me about Zapantiotis. How am I to -know?' he repeated, already slightly ashamed of his -outburst, 'I'm readjusting my ideas. Tell me the -truth; I scarcely care.'</p> - -<p>'Believe what you choose,' she replied, although -he still held her, terrified, on the ground at his feet, -'I have more pride than you credit me with—too much -to answer you.'</p> - -<p>'It was money,' he said after a pause, releasing her. -She stood up; reaction overcame her, and she wept.</p> - -<p>'Julian, that you should believe that of me! You -cut me to the quick—and I gave myself to you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> -with such pride and gladness' she added almost -inaudibly.</p> - -<p>'Forgive me; I suppose you, also, have your own -moral code; I have speculated sufficiently about it, -Heaven knows, but that means very little to me now,' -he said, more quietly, and with even a spark of detached -interest and curiosity. But he did not pursue the -subject. 'What do you want done with your clothes? -We have wasted quite enough time.'</p> - -<p>'You want me to come with you?'</p> - -<p>'You sound incredulous; why?'</p> - -<p>'I know you have ceased to love me. You spoke of -marrying me. Your love must have been a poor flimsy -thing, to topple over as it has toppled! Mine is more -tenacious, alas. It would not depend on outside -happenings.'</p> - -<p>'How dare you accuse me?' he said,' You destroy and -take from me all that I care for' ('Yes,' she interpolated, -as much bitterness in her voice as in his own—but all -the time they were talking against one another—'you -cared for everything but me'), 'then you brand my love -for you as a poor flimsy thing. If you have killed it, -you have done so by taking away the one thing....'</p> - -<p>'That you cared for more than for me,' she completed.</p> - -<p>'With which I would have associated you. You -yourself made that association impossible. You hated -the things I loved. Now you've killed those things, -and my love for you with them. You've killed everything -I cherished and possessed.'</p> - -<p>'Dead? Irretrievably?' she whispered.</p> - -<p>'Dead.'</p> - -<p>He saw her widened and swimming eyes, and added, -too much stunned for personal malice, yet angry because -of the pain he was suffering,—</p> - -<p>'You shall never be jealous of me again. I think I've -loved all women, loving you—gone through the whole<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> -of love, and now washed my hands of it; I've tested -and plumbed your vanity, your hideous egotism'—she -was crying like a child, unreservedly, her face -hidden against her arm—'your lack of breadth in everything -that was not love.'</p> - -<p>As he spoke, she raised her face and he saw light -breaking on her—although it was not, and never would -be, precisely the light he desired. It was illumination -and horror; agonised horror, incredulous dismay. Her -eyes were streaming with tears, but they searched him -imploringly, despairingly, as in a new voice she said,—</p> - -<p>'I've hurt you, Julian ... how I've hurt you! Hurt -you! I would have died for you. Can't I put it right? -oh, tell me! Will you kill me?' and she put her hand -up to her throat, offering it. 'Julian, I've hurt you -... my own, my Julian. What have I done? What -madness made me do it? Oh, what is there now for -me to do? only tell me; I do beseech you only to tell -me. Shall I go—to whom?—to Malteios? I understand -nothing; you must tell me. I wanted you so -greedily; you must believe that. Anything, anything -you want me to do.... It wasn't sufficient, to love -you, to want you; I gave you all I had, but it wasn't -sufficient. I loved you wrongly, I suppose; but I -loved you, I loved you!'</p> - -<p>He had been angry, but now he was seized with a -strange pity; pity of her childish bewilderment: the -thing that she had perpetrated was a thing she could -not understand. She would never fully understand.... -He looked at her as she stood crying, and remembered -her other aspects, in the flood-time of her joy, careless, -radiant, irresponsible; they had shared hours of -illimitable happiness.</p> - -<p>'Eve! Eve!' he cried, and through the wrenching -despair of his cry he heard the funeral note, the tear of -cleavage like the downfall of a tree.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p> -<p>He took her in his arms and made her sit upon the -bed; she continued to weep, and he sat beside her, -stroking her hair. He used terms of endearment towards -her, such as he had never used in the whole course of -their passionate union, 'Eve, my little Eve'; and he -kept on repeating, 'my little Eve,' and pressing her -head against his shoulder.</p> - -<p>They sat together like two children. Presently she -looked up, pushing back her hair with a gesture he -knew well.</p> - -<p>'We both lose the thing we cared most for upon -earth, Julian: you lose the Islands, and I lose you.'</p> - -<p>She stood up, and gazed out of the window towards -Herakleion. She stood there for some time without -speaking, and a fatal clearness spread over her mind, -leaving her quite strong, quite resolute, and coldly -armoured against every shaft of hope.</p> - -<p>'You want me to marry you,' she said at length.</p> - -<p>'You must marry me in Athens to-morrow, if possible, -and as soon as we are married we can go to England.'</p> - -<p>'I utterly refuse,' she said, turning round towards -him.</p> - -<p>He stared at her; she looked frail and tired, and with -one small white hand held together the edges of her -Spanish shawl. She was no longer crying.</p> - -<p>'Do you suppose,' she went on, 'that not content -with having ruined the beginning of your life for you—I -realise it now, you see—I shall ruin the rest of it as -well? You may believe me or not, I speak the truth -like a dying person when I tell you I love you to the -point of sin; yes, it's a sin to love as I love you. It's -blind, it's criminal. It's my curse, the curse of Eve, -to love so well that one loves badly. I didn't see. I -wanted you too blindly. Even now I scarcely understand -how you can have ceased to love me.—No, don't -speak. I do understand it—in a way; and yet I don't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> -understand it. I don't understand that an idea can be -dearer to one than the person one loves.... I don't -understand responsibilities; when you've talked about -responsibilities I've sometimes felt that I was made of -other elements than you.... But you're a man, -and I'm a woman; that's the rift. Perhaps it's a -rift that can never be bridged. Never mind that. -Julian, you must find some more civilised woman than -myself; find a woman who will be a friend, not an -enemy. Love makes me into an enemy, you see. Find -somebody more tolerant, more unselfish. More maternal. -Yes, that's it,' she said, illuminated, 'more maternal; -I'm only a lover, not a mother. You told me once that -I was of the sort that sapped and destroyed. I'll admit -that, and let you go. You mustn't waste yourself on -me. But, oh, Julian,' she said, coming close to him, -'if I give you up—because in giving you up I utterly -break myself—grant me one justice: never doubt -that I loved you. Promise me, Julian. I shan't love -again. But don't doubt that I loved you; don't argue -to yourself, "She broke my illusions, therefore she never -loved me," let me make amends for what I did, by -sending you away now without me.'</p> - -<p>'I was angry; I was lying; I wanted to hurt you -as you had hurt me,' he said desperately. 'How can I -tell what I have been saying to you? I've been dazed, -struck.... It's untrue that I no longer love you. -I love you, in spite, in spite.... Love can't die in an -hour.'</p> - -<p>'Bless you,' she said, putting her hand for a moment -on his head, 'but you can't deceive me. Oh,' she -hurried on, 'you might deceive yourself; you might -persuade yourself that you still loved me and wanted -me to go with you; but I know better. I'm not for you. -I'm not for your happiness, or for any man's happiness. -You've said it yourself: I am different. I let you go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> -because you are strong and useful—oh, yes, useful! so -disinterested and strong, all that I am not—too good -for me to spoil. You have nothing in common with me. -Who has? I think I haven't any kindred. I love you! -I love you better than myself!'</p> - -<p>He stood up; he stammered in his terror and -earnestness, but she only shook her head.</p> - -<p>'No, Julian.'</p> - -<p>'You're too strong,' he cried, 'you little weak thing; -stronger than I.'</p> - -<p>She smiled; he was unaware of the very small reserve -of her strength.</p> - -<p>'Stronger than you,' she repeated; 'yes.'</p> - -<p>Again he implored her to go with him; he even -threatened her, but she continued to shake her head and -to say in a faint and tortured voice,—</p> - -<p>'Go now, Julian; go, my darling; go now, Julian.'</p> - -<p>'With you, or not at all.' He was at last seriously -afraid that she meant what she said,</p> - -<p>'Without me.'</p> - -<p>'Eve, we were so happy. Remember! Only come; -we shall be as happy again.'</p> - -<p>'You mustn't tempt me; it's cruel,' she said, -shivering. 'I'm human.'</p> - -<p>'But I love you!' he said. He seized her hands, -and tried to drag her towards the door.</p> - -<p>'No,' she answered, putting him gently away from -her. 'Don't tempt me, Julian, don't; let me make -amends in my own way.'</p> - -<p>Her gentleness and dignity were such that he now -felt reproved, and, dimly, that the wrong done was by -him towards her, not by her towards him.</p> - -<p>'You are too strong—magnificent, and heartbreaking,' -he said in despair.</p> - -<p>'As strong as a rock,' she replied, looking straight -at him and thinking that at any moment she must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> -fall. But still she forced her lips to a smile of -finality.</p> - -<p>'Think better of it,' he was beginning, when they -heard a stir of commotion in the court below.</p> - -<p>'They are coming for you!' she cried out in sudden -panic. 'Go; I can't face any one just now....'</p> - -<p>He opened the door on to the landing.</p> - -<p>'Kato!' he said, falling back. Eve heard the note -of fresh anguish in his voice.</p> - -<p>Kato came in; even in that hour of horror they saw -that she had merely dragged a quilt round her shoulders, -and that her hair was down her back. In this guise her -appearance was indescribably grotesque.</p> - -<p>'Defeated, defeated,' she said in lost tones to -Julian. She did not see that they had both involuntarily -recoiled before her; she was beyond such considerations.</p> - -<p>'Anastasia,' he said, taking her by the arm and -shaking her slightly to recall her from her bemusement, -'here is something more urgent—thank God, you will -be my ally—Eve must leave Aphros with me; tell her -so, tell her so; she refuses.' He shook her more violently -with the emphasis of his words.</p> - -<p>'If he wants you....' Kato said, looking at Eve, -who had retreated into the shadows and stood there, -half fainting, supporting herself against the back of -a chair. 'If he wants you....' she repeated, in a stupid -voice, but her mind was far away.</p> - -<p>'You don't understand, Anastasia,' Eve answered; -'it was I that betrayed him.' Again she thought she -must fall.</p> - -<p>'She is lying!' cried Julian.</p> - -<p>'No,' said Eve. She and Kato stared at one another, -so preposterously different, yet with currents of truth -rushing between them.</p> - -<p>'You!' Kato said at last, awaking.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span></p> -<p>'I am sending him away,' said Eve, speaking as -before to the other woman.</p> - -<p>'You!' said Kato again. She turned wildly to Julian. -'Why didn't you trust yourself to me, Julian, my -beloved?' she cried; 'I wouldn't have treated you so, -Julian; why didn't you trust yourself to me?' She -pointed at Eve, silent and brilliant in her coloured -shawl; then, her glance falling upon her own person, -so sordid, so unkempt, she gave a dreadful cry and -looked around as though seeking for escape. The -other two both turned their heads away; to look at -Kato in that moment was more than they could -bear.</p> - -<p>Presently they heard her speaking again; her self-abandonment -had been brief; she had mastered herself, -and was making it a point of honour to speak with -calmness.</p> - -<p>'Julian, the officers have orders that you must leave -the island before dawn; if you do not go to them, they -will fetch you here. They are waiting below in the -courtyard now. Eve,'—her face altered,—'Eve is right: -if she has indeed done as she says, she cannot go with -you. She is right; she is more right, probably, than she -has ever been in her life before or ever will be again. -Come, now; I will go with you.'</p> - -<p>'Stay with Eve, if I go,' he said.</p> - -<p>'Impossible!' replied Kato, instantly hardening, and -casting upon Eve a look of hatred and scorn.</p> - -<p>'How cruel you are, Anastasia!' said Julian, making -a movement of pity towards Eve.</p> - -<p>'Take him away, Anastasia,' Eve murmured, shrinking -from him.</p> - -<p>'See, she understands me better than you do, and -understands herself better too,' said Kato, in a tone of -cruel triumph; 'if you do not come, Julian, I shall send -up the officers.' As she spoke she went out of the room,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> -her quilt trailing, and her heel-less slippers clacking on -the boards.</p> - -<p>'Eve, for the last time....'</p> - -<p>A cry was wrenched from her,—</p> - -<p>'Go! if you pity me!'</p> - -<p>'I shall come back.'</p> - -<p>'Oh, no, no!' she replied, 'you'll never come back. -One doesn't live through such things twice.' She shook -her head like a tortured animal that seeks to escape from -pain. He gave an exclamation of despair, and, after -one wild gesture towards her, which she weakly repudiated, -he followed Kato. Eve heard their steps upon the -stairs, then crossing the courtyard, and the tramp of -soldiers; the house-door crashed massively. She stooped -very slowly and mechanically, and began to pick up the -gay and fragile tissue of her clothes.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p> - -<h2>VII</h2> - -<p>She laid them all in orderly fashion across the bed, -smoothing out the folds with a care that was strangely -opposed to her usual impatience. Then she stood for -some time drawing the thin silk of the sari through her -fingers and listening for sounds in the house; there were -none. The silence impressed her with the fact that she -was alone.</p> - -<p>'Gone!' she thought, but she made no movement.</p> - -<p>Her eyes narrowed and her mouth became contracted -with pain.</p> - -<p>'Julian ...' she murmured, and, finding some -slippers, she thrust her bare feet into them with sudden -haste and threw the corner of her shawl over her -shoulder.</p> - -<p>She moved now with feverish speed; any one seeing -her face would have exclaimed that she was not in -conscious possession of her will, but would have shrunk -before the force of her determination. She opened the -door upon the dark staircase and went rapidly down; -the courtyard was lit by a torch the soldiers had left -stuck and flaring in a bracket. She had some trouble -with the door, tearing her hands and breaking her nails -upon the great latch, but she felt nothing, dragged it -open, and found herself in the street. At the end of the -street she could see the glare from the burning buildings -of the market-place, and could hear the shout of military -orders.</p> - -<p>She knew she must take the opposite road; Malteios -had told her that. 'Go by the mule-path over the hill; -it will lead you straight to the creek where the boat will -be waiting,' he had said. 'The boat for Julian and me,'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> -she kept muttering to herself as she speeded up the path -stumbling over the shallow steps and bruising her feet -upon the cobbles. It was very dark. Once or twice as -she put out her hand to save herself from falling she -encountered only a prickly bush of aloe or gorse, and -the pain stung her, causing a momentary relief.</p> - -<p>'I mustn't hurry too much,' she said to herself, -'I mustn't arrive at the creek before they have pushed -off the boat. I mustn't call out....'</p> - -<p>She tried to compare her pace with that of Julian, -Kato, and the officers, and ended by sitting down for a -few minutes at the highest point of the path, where it -had climbed over the shoulder of the island, and was -about to curve down upon the other side. From this -small height, under the magnificent vault studded with -stars, she could hear the sigh of the sea and feel the -slight breeze ruffling her hair. 'Without Julian, without -Julian—no, never,' she said to herself, and that one -thought revolved in her brain. 'I'm alone,' she thought, -'I've always been alone.... I'm an outcast, I don't -belong here....' She did not really know what she -meant by this, but she repeated it with a blind conviction, -and a terrible loneliness overcame her. 'Oh, stars!' -she said aloud, putting up her hands to them, and again -she did not know what she meant, either by the words -or the gesture. Then she realised that it was dark, and -standing up she thought, 'I'm frightened,' but there was -no reply to the appeal for Julian that followed immediately -upon the thought. She clasped her shawl round her, -and tried to stare through the night; then she thought -'People on the edge of death have no need to be frightened,' -but for all that she continued to look fearfully about her, -to listen for sounds, and to wish that Julian would come -to take care of her.</p> - -<p>She went down the opposite side of the hill less rapidly -than she had come up. She knew she must not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> -overtake Julian and his escort. She did not really know -why she had chosen to follow them, when any other part -of the coast would have been equally suitable for what -she had determined to do. But she kept thinking, as -though it brought some consolation, 'He passed along -this path five—ten—minutes ago; he is there somewhere, -not far in front of me.' And she remembered how -he had begged her to go with him. ' ... But I couldn't -have gone!' she cried, half in apology to the dazzling -happiness she had renounced, 'I was a curse to him—to -everything I touch. I could never have controlled my -jealousy, my exorbitance.... He asked me to go, -to be with him always,' she thought, sobbing and -hurrying on; and she sobbed his name, like a child, -'Julian! Julian! Julian!'</p> - -<p>Presently the path ceased to lead downhill and -became flat, running along the top of the rocky cliff -about twenty feet above the sea. She moved more -cautiously, knowing that it would bring her to the little -creek where the boat was to be waiting; as she moved -she blundered constantly against boulders, for the path -was winding and in the starlight very difficult to follow. -She was still fighting with herself, 'No, I could not go -with him; I am not fit.... I don't belong here....' -that reiterated cry. 'But without him—no, no, no! -This is quite simple. Will he think me bad? I hope -not; I shall have done what I could....' Her complexity -had entirely deserted her, and she thought in -broad, childish lines. 'Poor Eve!' she thought suddenly, -viewing herself as a separate person, 'she was very -young' (in her eyes youth amounted to a moral virtue), -'Julian, Julian, be a little sorry for her,—I was cursed, -I was surely cursed,' she added, and at that moment -she found herself just above the creek.</p> - -<p>The path descended to it in rough steps, and with a -beating heart she crept down, helping herself by her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> -hands, until she stood upon the sand, hidden in the -shadow of a boulder. The shadows were very black and -hunched, like the shadows of great beasts. She listened, -the softness of her limbs pressed against the harshness -of the rocks. She heard faint voices, and, creeping forward, -still keeping in the shadows, she made out the -shape of a rowing-boat filled with men about twenty -yards from the shore.</p> - -<p>'Kato has gone with him!' was her first idea, and at -that all her jealousy flamed again—the jealousy that, -at the bottom of her heart, she knew was groundless, -but could not keep in check. Anger revived her—'Am -I to waste myself on him?' she thought, but immediately -she remembered the blank that that one word 'Never!' -could conjure up, and her purpose became fixed again. -'Not life without him,' she thought firmly and unchangeably, -and moved forward until her feet were -covered by the thin waves lapping the sandy edge of -the creek. She had thrown off her shoes, standing -barefoot on the soft wet sand.</p> - -<p>Here she paused to allow the boat to draw farther -away. She knew that she would cry out, however strong -her will, and she must guard against all chance of rescue. -She waited at the edge of the creek, shivering, and -drawing her silk garments about her, and forcing herself -to endure the cold horror of the water washing round -her ankles. How immense was the night, how immense -the sea!—The oars in the boat dipped regularly; by now -it was almost undistinguishable in the darkness.</p> - -<p>'What must I do?' she thought wildly, knowing the -moment had come. 'I must run out as far as I can....' -She sent an unuttered cry of 'Julian!' after the boat, -and plunged forward; the coldness of the water stopped -her as it reached her waist, and the long silk folds became -entangled around her limbs, but she recovered herself -and fought her way forward. Instinctively she kept<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> -her hands pressed against her mouth and nostrils, and -her staring eyes tried to fathom this cruelly deliberate -death. Then the shelving coast failed her beneath her -feet; she had lost the shallows and was taken by the -swell and rhythm of the deep. A thought flashed through -her brain, 'This is where the water ceases to be green and -becomes blue'; then in her terror she lost all self-control -and tried to scream; it was incredible that Julian, who -was so near at hand, should not hear and come to save -her; she felt herself tiny and helpless in that great surge -of water; even as she tried to scream she was carried -forward and under, in spite of her wild terrified battle -against the sea, beneath the profound serenity of the -night that witnessed and received her expiation.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center">GLASGOW: W. COLLINS SONS AND CO. LTD.</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Challenge, by Vita Sackville-West - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHALLENGE *** - -***** This file should be named 61925-h.htm or 61925-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/9/2/61925/ - -Produced by Tim Lindell, Martin Pettit and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This -book was produced from images made available by the -HathiTrust Digital Library.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - - -</pre> - -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/61925-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/61925-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d182f7a..0000000 --- a/old/61925-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/61925-h/images/logo.jpg b/old/61925-h/images/logo.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 02ee0b4..0000000 --- a/old/61925-h/images/logo.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/61925-h/images/title.jpg b/old/61925-h/images/title.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d182f7a..0000000 --- a/old/61925-h/images/title.jpg +++ /dev/null |
