GIFT OF 
 Elin Kardell Petersen 
 
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ANDRONIKE 
 
ANDRONIKE 
 
 Cfje Jerome of tlje d&reek JRetoolutum 
 
 BY 
 
 STEPHANOS THEODOROS XENOS 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL GREEK 
 
 BY 
 
 EDWIN A. GROSVENOR 
 
 PROFESSOR OF EUROPEAN HISTORY IN AMHERST COLLEGE 
 AND AUTHOR OF "CONSTANTINOPLE" 
 
 BOSTON 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS 
 
 1897 
 
Copyright, 1897, 
 By Roberts Brothers. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 GIFT 
 
 John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. 
 
PA 5*6 lO 
 
 9T|jtj5 GErattglatton fe Betu'cateto 
 
 TO 
 
 MY THREE SONS 
 
 M77fJ867 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2008 with funding from 
 
 Microsoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/andronikheroinOOxenorich 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Never was the attention of mankind more turned to 
 Greece than during the year that is closing. With 
 feverish interest and anxiety, millions the world over have 
 watched her brief desperate struggle against fearful odds. 
 Her hopes and her future now seem crushed. She is a 
 victim, bound and laid upon the altar, overcome by the 
 superior strength of the Ottomans and by the hostility of 
 the European powers. Her antagonist, the Ottoman Em- 
 pire, is to-day stronger and more formidable than it has 
 been at any time since the Battle of Navarino, seventy 
 years ago. 
 
 This book is a romance of love and adventure with its 
 scene laid in Greece. As the plot develops, the reader 
 seems treading Greek soil, breathing Greek air, and liv- 
 ing among the Greeks. Though Andronike the heroine, 
 Thrasyboulos her lover, and the renegade Barthakas, the 
 evil genius of the story, are actors in the Greek revolu- 
 tion of 1821, they might be reckoned characters of to-day. 
 That revolution, with its mingled heroism and shame, 
 does not differ greatly from this last war, itself an episode 
 in the ceaseless struggle between the Christian and the 
 Mussulman, the Greek and the Turk. This story is a 
 succession of instantaneous photographs, revealing, with 
 photographic accuracy, phases of life in the Balkan penin- 
 sula. No other book in so realistic manner describes the 
 birth throes of modern Greece. No other portrays more 
 
viii Preface 
 
 vividly the political and moral medley and chaos of the 
 East. 
 
 Hurrying on in the excitement of the tale, the reader 
 scarcely realizes how historic truth is interwoven with 
 the romance. The holy communion and execution of the 
 patriarch Gregory and his bishops, the rise of the Hetairia, 
 the battles and sea-fights described, innumerable other 
 scenes and events in the narrative lose not one whit of 
 interest in that they are historic fact made tributary to 
 fiction. 
 
 It would have been easy to load the page with notes 
 and explanations, but I have judged it better to let the 
 tale, in its gradual unwinding, be its own interpreter. 
 Some passages I have omitted in translation, and some- 
 times I have tempered oriental exuberance of style. Yet, 
 while clothing the expression in the forms of English 
 speech, I have constantly striven to preserve unmodified 
 the body and soul of this greatest romance of contem- 
 porary Greece. 
 
 EDWIN A. GROSVENOR. 
 
 Amherst College, Amherst, Mass., U. S. A. 
 October the twenty-third, 1897. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 BOOK I 
 
 CHAPTER TA.GE 
 
 I. The Holy Communion 1 
 
 II. The Diamond Snuff-Box 7 
 
 III. A Frightful Scene 10 
 
 IV. The Fate of the Bishops 15 
 
 V. The Departure 17 
 
 VI. Thrasyboulos and Andronike 20 
 
 VII. The Oath and the Betrothal 30 
 
 VIII. Barthakas 36 
 
 IX. The Scourged Bridegroom 42 
 
 X. The Escape 47 
 
 XI. The Hermit of Saint Elias 51 
 
 XII. The Sixth of April, 1821 57 
 
 XIII. The Meeting 61 
 
 XIV. Diakos and Odysseus 66 
 
 XV. The Terrible Tidings 68 
 
 XVI. The Modern Battle of Thermopylae ... 73 
 
 XVII. The Corycian Cave 77 
 
 XVIII. DlAMANTO CARRETO 84 
 
 XIX. The Inn of Gravias 91 
 
 XX. Vasileios Caravias . 95 
 
 XXI. The Dream 100 
 
 XXII. The Battle of Dragatzana 108 
 
 XXIH. Christian or Mussulman 115 
 
 BOOK II 
 
 I. Ali Pasha of Yanina 123 
 
 II. The Escape of Carreto 129 
 
 III. The Place of Safety 131 
 
x Contents 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 IV. What the Teacher is, the Scholar is . . 135 
 
 V. The Prediction Fulfilled 141 
 
 VI. The Prisoners 150 
 
 VII. The Prison of Munkacs 154 
 
 VIII. The Flight 158 
 
 IX. The Invitation 163 
 
 X. The Trap 167 
 
 XI. A New Home 169 
 
 XII. Scio 175 
 
 XIII. LOULA AND ANDRONIKE 179 
 
 XIV. A Plain Conversation 187 
 
 XV. The Cafe* of the Latins 190 
 
 XVI. The Interview 193 
 
 XVII. Ibrahim Agha 197 
 
 XVIII. The Funeral 201 
 
 BOOK III 
 
 I. The Festival of Parthenion 206 
 
 II. Antonios Vournias 212 
 
 III. The Arrest of Kyrios Phrancoulis .... 213 
 
 IV. DlAMANTO AND PANTELIS 217 
 
 V. The Destruction of the City 219 
 
 VI. Torn Asunder 222 
 
 VII. The Marriage in the Cave 224 
 
 VIII. Setting Sail 228 
 
 IX. The Jail on the Flagship 233 
 
 X. Ramazan on the Flagship 236 
 
 XI. Divine Vengeance 243 
 
 XII. Thrasyboulos and Kyra R 254 
 
 XIII. Gouras and Odysseus 262 
 
 XIV. The Bulwark of Greece 268 
 
 XV. The Fortunate Meeting 273 
 
 XVI. The Traitor's Son 277 
 
 XVII. A Soldier's Funeral 286 
 
Contents 
 
 XI 
 
 I. 
 
 ir. 
 
 in. 
 
 IV. 
 
 v. 
 
 VI. 
 
 VII. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 IX. 
 
 x. 
 
 XI. 
 
 XII. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 XV. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 XX. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 I. 
 
 II. 
 
 III. 
 
 IV. 
 
 V. 
 
 VI. 
 
 VII. 
 
 BOOK IV 
 
 PAGS 
 
 The Slave Market 290 
 
 Evening Diversions 296 
 
 Arnaout Pasha and the Slave 299 
 
 The Oar Again 304 
 
 What the Oar Meant 308 
 
 Chivalry 311 
 
 A False Prophet 313 
 
 Lord Byron 322 
 
 Drawing Nearer 327 
 
 Totis and Sass 329 
 
 Kyra R at Misolonghi 333 
 
 The Death of Lord Byron 335 
 
 All Things Meet Except the Mountains . 341 
 
 The Civil Wars . 344 
 
 The Political Ideas of that Day .... 348 
 
 On the Outside *. . 352 
 
 The Remission of Sins 355 
 
 The Governor of Lesros ........ 360 
 
 Modern Heroism 362 
 
 A Woman's Protection 366 
 
 A Bath 371 
 
 The Hegoumenos Benjamin 374 
 
 A Fine Story 383 
 
 Odysseus and Gouras Again 388 
 
 Love becomes Friendship 397 
 
 BOOK V 
 
 The Third Siege of Misolonghi 400 
 
 The Surgical Operation 405 
 
 Lethargy 409 
 
 The Illusion a Reality 413 
 
 The Coming of Ibrahim 417 
 
 The Hares of Misolonghi 421 
 
 The Council of War 427 
 
xii Contents 
 
 CHAPTED PAGE 
 
 VIII. Misdirected Zeal 430 
 
 IX. The Blood Covenant 435 
 
 X. From a Friend 442 
 
 XI. Holy Misolonghi 446 
 
 XII. The Precious Box 451 
 
 XIII. The Battle of Cleisova . . .' 457 
 
 XIV. The Atheist t 462 
 
 XV. The Hunt for Crows 466 
 
 XVI. Pluto's Realm 471 
 
 XVII. The Four Ages 476 
 
 XVIII. The Fall of Misolonghi 481 
 
 XIX. The Fugitives 488 
 
 XX. The Shade of the Patriarch Gregory . . 493 
 
 XXI. The Finger of the Lord 497 
 
 XXII. The Word of Honor 500 
 
 XXIII. The Battle of Navarino 506 
 
 XXIV. The Beyond . . . \ 522 
 
ANDRONIKE 
 
 THE HEROINE OF THE GREEK REVOLUTION 
 
 BOOK I 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE HOLY COMMUNION 
 
 On the left bank of the Golden Horn, in the quarter of 
 Phanar, there once stood a small female monastery. This 
 was raised to the rank of a cathedral in 1614 by that patri- 
 arch Timotheos who came from Cyzicus and thus replaced 
 Sancta Sophia, which the Ottomans had seized on the 
 capture of Constantinople. In memory of the grand edifice 
 of Justinian, long before converted into a mosque, the new 
 patriarchate was called " The Great Church." 
 
 In the frightful rebellion against Sultan Moustapha II in 
 1701 the rioters destroyed this building and carried off its 
 treasures. The patriarchate which one sees to-day on the 
 former site, was raised by Jeremiah III of Patmos ten years 
 afterward, and again thoroughly restored by Gregory V one 
 hundred years ago. 
 
 In outer appearance it is a structure with wooden roof, 
 built on the ancient walls of the city, and provided with 
 monastic cells and apartments for the Holy Synod. In 
 the hallowed enclosure stands the Church of Saint George, 
 whose most precious possessions are the ancient throne of 
 the patriarchs, the pulpit of Chrysostom, and half of the 
 marble column on which Christ was bound and scourged. 
 
 About midnight on Good Friday in 1821, when the dark- 
 ness was heaviest, an old man of eighty, wearing the priestly 
 robes of the Orthodox Church and accompanied by a comely 
 
 l 
 
2 Andronike 
 
 youth, descended from the rooms of the patriarch and entered 
 the Church of Saint George. He was a person of ordinary- 
 height. His eyes were dark; his countenance emaciated, 
 but full of life and expression; his beard and hair gray 
 and scanty. 
 
 " Let us come before his face with confession, and make a 
 joyful noise unto him with psalms/' said the old man, stop- 
 ping in front of the bema. Then he made the sign of the 
 cross three times, and went in. Soon he came out and gave 
 the young man some church vessels, wrapped in silk. His 
 companion kissed them, kissed the hand of the priest, and 
 then concealed them under his ample cloak. " I am ready," 
 he added. "Follow then, my child," murmured the old 
 man. Together they left the church and the patriarchate. 
 
 The two persons advanced a considerable distance, and 
 did not stop until they reached Ouzoun Kapou, the gate of 
 the seraglio near the bostanji prison. u Who is there ?" in 
 a loud voice cried a ferocious janissary. " I have permision 
 to enter the prison where the bishops are," said the old 
 man in Turkish ; then he showed the written order of the 
 grand vizir. "Wait until I ask my officer," replied the 
 guard, respectfully kissing the order. The officer came, and 
 after a few questions himself conducted them to the prison. 
 
 Within a half-subterranean cell, dimly lighted by a candle 
 attached to the wall, there lay upon the ground in chains, 
 without beds, covered with dirt and with gaping wounds, 
 the bishops Dionysios of Ephesus, Gregory of Derkon, 
 Athanasios of Nicomedia, Joseph of Thessalonica, Doro- 
 theos of Adrianople, and several other ministers of the 
 Orthodox Church. The wrinkled face, the snowy head, and 
 the wretched condition of each inspired sympathy and pro- 
 found respect. 
 
 " Our most reverend patriarch," exclaimed the Archbishop 
 of Ephesus, as the old man appeared. All made a feeble 
 effort to rise. 
 
 " I am indeed with you," said the great prelate in a trem- 
 ulous tone, bestowing the benediction with his right hand. 
 Then turning to the officer and dismissing him kindly, he 
 added, " I have permission from the grand vizir to remain 
 alone with the prisoners." 
 
 The officer gave an angry glance, but withdrew, muttering 
 some indistinct words. 
 
 " He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh : the Lord 
 
The Holy Communion 3 
 
 shall have them in derision. Then shall he speak unto 
 them in his wrath, and vex them in his sore displeasure." 
 These words the patriarch Gregory uttered as he pointed 
 at the departing officer, and his eyes filled with tears at the 
 pitiful condition of the bishops. 
 
 " What necessity, father, beloved of God, brings you here 
 at such an hour ? " asked the Bishop of Nicomedia. 
 
 "The most imperative of all. This." Taking from his 
 breast a letter, written in the secret dialect of the Hetairia, 
 the patriarch read as follows : " My kinsman, who has ac- 
 cess to the sultan, informs me that the sultan is furious at 
 the progress of the Hetairia. Being informed that the 
 bishops are members of it, he has determined to put to 
 death all now in prison. I write this to you, the patriarch. 
 At once inform the ambassadors of England, France, and 
 Russia." 
 
 " This letter was not necessary to tell us that death is 
 near. None are placed in this bostanji prison except per- 
 sons condemned to death," said the Bishop of Thessalonica. 
 
 " We are waiting for it calmly," interrupted Gregory of 
 Derkon. "Would that our blood might suffice for the ac- 
 complishment of the great undertaking! Yea, Lord God, 
 deliver this Christian people, like another Daniel, from the 
 merciless hands of the Mussulmans." "Amen," all re- 
 sponded in a low tone. 
 
 Then after a long silence the patriarch spoke : " Reverend 
 fathers, aged martyrs of this holy struggle, forerunners of 
 the deliverance of the glorious Greek nation. The hour 
 has struck. The bitter cup, at which even our Lord was 
 moved, is not far from us. Let us drink it bravely. Our 
 death shall inspire indignation and heroism in all the 
 Greeks. I have a frightful story to tell. Last Tuesday I 
 was summoned to the palace of the grand vizir, Benderli 
 Ali, near Alai Kiosk. There I found the chief interpreter 
 of the Ottoman Porte, Constantine Mourouzis and his 
 brother Nicolas. They were on their knees, bareheaded, 
 barefooted, their hands crossed on their breasts. The 
 vizir, restless as a panther, with a wild look, was noisily 
 pacing the hall, knocking down the furniture and terrifying 
 all who were present. 'Take these rascals and confess 
 them before I hang them. Give them some of that wine, 
 which you call blood of your prophet/ he added mockingly 
 as soon as I entered. 
 
4 Andronike 
 
 "I listened without reply. I sent my deacon to bring 
 the consecrated emblems from the nearest church. Then, 
 taking the two princes to one end of the hall, I administered 
 the communion, being interrupted only by the scoffs of the 
 Mussulmans present. 
 
 " Then the now slain Constantine whispered to me : 
 1 Most reverend, save thyself and the Synod if thou canst. 
 The sultan intends to put you all to death to terrify the 
 rebels/ 
 
 " That very moment the grand vizir grasped my shoulder. 
 ' What secret have you here ? ' he cried. 
 
 " i Father forgive them, for they know not what they do/ 
 I repeated to myself. 
 
 " Constantine Mourouzis was taken from the palace of 
 the vizir. Sultan Mahmoud sat at the window of Alai 
 Kiosk. I approached one of the windows, and I saw the 
 unfortunate Constantine kneeling before the executioner. 
 He turned his head and looked at me. Afterward, direct- 
 ing his gaze toward the monarch, he cried in a stern voice : 
 ' Bloodthirsty tyrant, the last hour of thy kingdom has 
 sounded. God shall avenge my nation. Thou shalt be 
 punished for thy crimes.' Before he finished, his head 
 fell under the sword of the executioner. A ferocious shout 
 from a thousand Ottomans accompanied the horror. Then, 
 on the same mound, under the eyes of Mahmoud II, was 
 beheaded Nicolas Mourouzis." 
 
 " May his memory be everlasting ! May his memory be 
 everlasting ! " repeated the bishops. 
 
 " To-day, just after I received the letter which I read to 
 you, I was called to the grand vizir," continued the patri- 
 arch. "He was milder this time. He pointed to a seat 
 on the sofa and offered me a pipe. I have accurate in- 
 formation that the bishops in the prison are members of 
 the Hetairia,' he said ; l nevertheless, I suppose that you 
 are faithful to the sultan.' I inclined my head slightly 
 without uttering a word. 
 
 " ' The padishah and I have need of your assistance. You 
 alone can deliver the surviving Greeks from otherwise cer- 
 tain death. Hasten to the prison and receive the confession 
 of the bishops. Whatever you learn, communicate it to 
 his majesty. See, he sends you this diamond snuff-box as a 
 token of his boundless esteem.' " 
 
 The patriarch Gregory showed them the costly box. 
 
The Holy Communion 5 
 
 "You see," he added, "the thirty pieces of silver which 
 were given ine to betray you." 
 
 " After I returned to the patriarchate I remembered the 
 words of Prince Mourouzis. I at once understood that the 
 sultan's decision to put you to death had already been 
 announced. Nevertheless, as he fears our coreligionist 
 Russia, he seeks to make a tool of me. He wishes me to 
 declare in writing that you are traitors, so that he can 
 show the document to Count Strogonoff. Do you remember, 
 reverend father," turning to the Bishop of Derkon, " when 
 your friend, a few days before Alexander Ypsilantis crossed 
 the Pruth, in a full meeting of the Synod, advised me to 
 abdicate the patriarchal throne and go to the Peloponnesus 
 that I might escape death ? Do you remember my answer ? 
 'I know/ I said, 'that the fishes of the Bosphorus will 
 devour my body. Nevertheless I, and all the clergy of 
 Constantinople, ought to die here for the common safety. 
 Our blood will arouse the sympathy of Europe against the 
 tyrant and will inspire heroism in the Greeks. Should we 
 escape, the sultan will be the more exasperated and will 
 slaughter every Christian/ 
 
 " The hour has come," added the patriarch Gregory, 
 directing his clear glance toward the bishops. " This 
 hour is the last in which I meet you upon earth. 
 
 "Come, my reverend children, let us partake of the 
 sacrament and administer confession to each other. Let 
 us lift our minds to him who trieth the hearts and the 
 reins. Let us thank him that he has vouchsafed us such 
 a glorious death. Come, Thrasyboulos, come, my child," he 
 called to the young man, who was listening with eyes full 
 of tears. 
 
 The youth approached with the sacred vessels. The 
 afflicted bishops, close to each other in the prison cell, par- 
 took of the Last Supper. 
 
 This dramatic scene had hardly finished, when young 
 Thrasyboulos, who will be one of the principal characters 
 of this story, unable to master his emotion, drew a Damas- 
 cus blade which he had hidden under his capacious cloak, 
 and sprang into the midst of the bishops, crying with a 
 husky voice, " Holy men, bless my sword." 
 
 The priests looked at the young man. His face shone in 
 the dim light of the prison, beautiful as the archangel 
 Gabriel. 
 
6 Andronike 
 
 "Blessed and strong be thy sword, my son," said the 
 patriarch Gregory. " Thou art an honorable and a manly 
 youth. May the Lord make thee one of the foremost 
 pillars of the nation. May no weapon of the enemy smite 
 thee. May fear never come upon thy heart. Mayst thou 
 reach thy tomb only when thou hast seen thy country and 
 thy religion delivered." 
 
 " Amen," all responded. 
 
 "Amen," answered Thrasyboulos. "May this blessed 
 sword be my talisman ! As long as my arm holds it, death 
 will not dare come near me." Kissing it tenderly, he 
 thrust it into the scabbard. 
 
 The patriarch was now ready to leave the prisoners, but 
 the Bishop of Adrianople, Dorotheos, began to speak. He 
 was a man well known for his attainments in science and 
 philosophy. 
 
 "Blessed patriarch, most reverend bishops and holy 
 fathers, my fellow-prisoners, ' Upon the wicked he shall 
 rain snares, fire and brimstone, and a horrible tempest : 
 this shall be the portion of their cup. For the righteous 
 Lord loveth righteousness,' saith the prophet-king David. 
 Lifting our minds to this holy word, we, the shepherds of 
 the Christian Church, must await death without murmuring. 
 In order that the fountain of Grace, of which we have 
 just partaken, may continue, it must find your hearts 
 cheerful and untroubled. 
 
 "If there lingers in you a holy longing to behold the 
 deliverance of the Greek nation out of its present afflictions, 
 that longing is permitted by the Almighty, for he aims at 
 the emancipation of the churches and of the places among 
 which Christ was born. He seeks the removal of sacrilege, 
 murder, and violence from this country, which gave light 
 to the nations now enlightened, and which is capable of 
 again becoming one of the foremost. 
 
 " Let no other feeling, reverend fathers, enter your hearts. 
 Banish all hatred of your tyrants. Only entreat the Most 
 High to forgive them. And with reason, for he who 
 overthrew many nations and slew mighty kings, he will 
 chastise them and strengthen the weak Christians against 
 their oppressors. Our death, holy fathers, is more glorious 
 than that of the martyrs under Nero and Severus. They 
 died for the spread of Christianity ; we fall that it may be 
 delivered from thrice-barbarous Islam." 
 
The Diamond Snuff-box 7 
 
 Afterwards, raising his fettered hands as far as he could 
 toward heaven, he prayed : " Lord Jesus Christ, thou Lamb 
 of God, who wast crucified for the nations and to free man- 
 kind from sin, intercede with thy Father for us sinners." 
 
 "Amen, amen, amen," said they all. 
 
 "Ye shall be blessed forever, my children," said the 
 patriarch. " It is time for me to leave you. I do not say 
 farewell, because soon we shall meet where no power will 
 be able longer to separate us." 
 
 Three times he gave the benediction to the bishops. 
 " Follow me, my son," he said to Thrasyboulos. Then he 
 left the prison and the prisoners. 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE DIAMOND SNUFF-BOX 
 
 Before the patriarch and the youth had gone far from 
 the stifling dungeon in which the bishops were confined, 
 the sun was tinting the sky of Constantinople with rosy 
 dawn, each ray, like an artist's brush, imparting new color 
 and new shadow to that splendid picture. 
 
 As they traversed the city, the patriarch felt compelled 
 to stop and gaze for a moment at the seven hills, the Golden 
 Horn crowded with shipping, and the winding channel of 
 the Bosphorus, which like a noiseless cataract empties one 
 sea into another and was opened, as if by the rod of Moses, 
 that Europe and Asia should nevermore be joined together. 
 He cast a glance toward the glowing sky, where a few stars, 
 dropped from the robe of vanishing night, were fading into 
 dawn. He turned toward the fair promontory of Scutari, 
 where mint and roses were pouring forth fragrance like 
 myrrh and cassia, and sprinkling with dew whoever was 
 astir at such an early hour. 
 
 Then he said to Thrasyboulos, " See, my child, how mag- 
 nificent are those skies which he who was hanged upon the 
 cross has spread above this sinful city. Constantinople, my 
 son, in spite of its physical beauty, is to-day like a foul 
 abyss. Satan and his hosts dwell here. He is full of joy 
 as he sees his followers tormenting and destroying the 
 
8 Andronike 
 
 Christians. As soon as we reach the patriarchate, set out, 
 my child, to Odessa. I will recommend you to some mer- 
 chants there, who are our fellow countrymen. In that city 
 you can complete your studies and afterwards enter into 
 business." 
 
 "I set out, most holy father, to Odessa! I become a 
 merchant ! I, who bear a sword which has been blessed 
 by your holiness and by fifteen other chiefs of the Church ! 
 I will gladly go there to be enrolled in the Sacred Legion. 
 I ask only for a letter of recommendation to Alexander 
 Ypsilantis. Do you know, my uncle, that ever since your 
 sacred confession in the prison I feel myself changed ! It 
 seems to me that my head has been anointed by holy oil 
 and my whole body made invulnerable by that blessing. Oh, 
 when shall I bare my sword ! Oh, when shall I fall upon 
 the unbelievers ! " 
 
 "Speak lower. Remember that you are in Constanti- 
 nople. I hear steps behind us." 
 
 At that moment a voice was heard crying, " Father, 
 father ! " Turning, they saw a poor Greek running toward 
 them. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " asked Thrasyboulos. 
 
 "Two Turks are chasing me," said the Greek, panting. 
 Hardly had he finished when two Ottoman soldiers 
 appeared. 
 
 The patriarch, although unrecognized, was able by his 
 mild manner and a little money to send them off. 
 
 "You must know how all the Christians are persecuted," 
 said Thrasyboulos. " Why, then, do you go out when the 
 streets are empty ? " 
 
 "From poverty, sir. I have so many children to 
 support." 
 
 " So many children ! But you appear very young. What 
 is your business ? " the patriarch inquired. 
 
 " I am a caiqueji. Excuse me, my master, but if I am 
 not mistaken you are our most venerable patriarch," said 
 the Greek, recovering from his fear and uncovering his 
 head. 
 
 "Yes, my son. Take this," said the patriarch, giving 
 him some money. 
 
 " Thank you ! Thank you ! Our Christ has sent you to 
 me. I have to help so many people. You must know that 
 during these days my small caique has rescued many whom 
 
The Diamond Snuff-box 9 
 
 I have carried to Russian ships. I am so early in the 
 streets because just now I went out to get food for a family 
 which I have hidden in my house. Night before last they 
 fled with almost no clothing from the hands of the 
 janissaries." 
 
 The patriarch looked at him with wonder. "Do you 
 know the name of the family ? " 
 
 " Yes, most venerable. It is that of Demetrios Mourouzis. 
 They are relatives of Constantine and Nicolas, whom the 
 sultan put to death. I carried them some wine, and they 
 intoxicated the guards and escaped." 
 
 At these words of the boatman the aged patriarch was 
 not able to control his emotion. " Blessings upon you, my 
 good Christian !•" he exclaimed. " May .the Lord give you 
 the riches of Abraham and Isaac, for you will spend them 
 in good works." Taking out the diamond-studded snuff-box 
 of the sultan as well as all the money he had with him, he 
 added, " Take this to help support your children and also 
 to assist the family to which you have given a shelter in 
 your house." 
 
 " You cannot mean to give me all this," said the poor 
 boatman, looking at him with astounded eyes. 
 
 " Yes, yes ; I give it to you, my good man." 
 
 "Stop, stop, most reverend patriarch," said the Greek, 
 rubbing his eyes and sitting on the ground. "These 
 brilliants are like a dream. That box is a fortune. I can 
 open my own shop in the bazar." 
 
 " Once more I recommend you to look out for the Chris- 
 tians whom you have at your house," repeated the patriarch 
 as he said good-by. 
 
 " I will sacrifice my life for them," he replied. " I was 
 not always a boatman. My father was formerly in easy 
 circumstances." 
 
 "The sultan's snuff-box could not have better fortune. 
 By means of it the family of Mourouzis will be saved," 
 said Thrasyboulos, shortly afterward. 
 
 " Nothing takes place in the world unless it has first been 
 written there," said the patriarch, pointing to heaven, as he 
 entered the gate of the patriarchate. 
 
 All the Saturday before Easter he passed in meditation and 
 prayer. In the evening he said to Thrasyboulos : " Take this 
 recommendation, which you desired, to Alexander Ypsilantis. 
 Here are also two other letters for two leading merchants 
 
10 Andronike 
 
 of Odessa, and here is a sum of money for your expenses. 
 
 Also here is this letter for Messrs. and Co. In it I tell 
 
 them that in case of my death they are to acknowledge you 
 as heir to the property which I have in their hands. Now 
 leave the patriarchate and Constantinople as quickly as you 
 can. Hurry to the harbor and embark on the first Russian 
 boat which sails to-night." 
 
 " I cannot leave until I know what is to become of you 
 yourself and of the bishops." 
 
 " That is madness. Whether we live or die, you cannot 
 help us in any way. You are in danger of destroying your- 
 self, and then what ? Think of your aged father and of 
 your betrothed Andronike." 
 
 "My father! My mother! My darling and beautiful 
 Andronike ! Let me add, my country and my religion," cried 
 the young man, passionately. " It is true ; I must leave 
 Constantinople. Farewell, most reverend patriarch. Bless 
 me once more. Our destiny is unknown ; but if you go to 
 heaven first, intercede for me." 
 
 Then tearfully, after some incoherent words, he kissed 
 the right hand of the patriarch and speedily set out for the 
 Golden Horn. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 A FRIGHTFUL SCENE 
 
 Easter came with clouds. The sky was black, the at- 
 mosphere heavy, and rain seemed about to fall in torrents. 
 Continuous thunder and lightning echoed and flashed from 
 east to west. Despite all this the sea was calm. Not a 
 breath of air stirred. The salutes from the Christian 
 vessels in the harbor, incessant on other Easters, were on 
 this day rare and at long intervals. Nature herself foretold 
 that this Greek Easter was to end in horror. 
 
 The patriarch Gregory rose very early. Before descend- 
 ing to the Church of Saint George to celebrate the resurrec- 
 tion of our Lord, he was plunged in profound melancholy. 
 At last he robed himself in the royal saccos and the gilded 
 and bordered stole. He placed upon his head the diamond- 
 
A Frightful Scene 11 
 
 studded mitre, and attached the epigonation to his side. 
 Then, attended by Gabriel, his faithful deacon, he pro- 
 ceeded to the church and took his seat upon the throne of 
 Chrysostom. 
 
 The Christians present were gloomy and silent. Each 
 felt the absence of the bishops, and bitterly reflected upon 
 their sufferings in prison. Yet when the patriarch Gregory 
 raised his pastoral staff and intoned, "Let God arise and let 
 his enemies be scattered," one common response agitated 
 the ranks of the men. 
 
 "Let the nation arise. Let Christianity arise," they 
 murmured, and a new life appeared on the faces of all. 
 
 After the liturgy the patriarch returned to the patriar- 
 chate and received the visits of the Greeks. At that very 
 hour one of the officers of the grand vizir arrived and 
 ordered him to go to his master. 
 
 The patriarch found the vizir, Benderli Ali, in ill humor 
 and enveloped in clouds of smoke. 
 
 " At last ! " said the representative of the Sublime Porte. 
 " I expected you yesterday. My all-powerful master ex- 
 pected the confession of the bishops." 
 
 " It was our High Saturday, and it was my duty to pass it 
 in prayer and meditation." 
 
 " It would have been better for you to spend your time in 
 prayer and meditation upon the command of your sovereign 
 and master Sultan Mahmoud, upon whom your head de- 
 pends. Then, according to your statement, you did not have 
 time to take down in writing the confession of the prisoners." 
 
 "The entire day I passed in prayer and meditation," re- 
 peated the aged patriarch. 
 
 The vizir began to be enraged at his calmness. " Tell me 
 then orally what the prisoners confessed." 
 
 The pontiff crossed his hands upon his breast, cast down 
 his eyes, and remained silent. 
 
 "Will you not speak?" 
 
 Gregory maintained the same silence. 
 
 " Very well. Hear what our Koran says : * We have led 
 man to the path in which he will show whether he is thank- 
 ful or thankless/ 'And verily for unbelievers we have 
 prepared chains and iron rings and burning fire,' it says 
 somewhere else." 
 
 Beckoning to him, he added in a low tone : " Yet there is 
 mercy for you and the archbishops now in chains. Let 
 
12 Andronike 
 
 them return to the padishah and I will deliver you all from 
 death." 
 
 u . One man cannot deliver another from death," said the 
 patriarch. "Does not your own Koran say, 'We are all 
 from God and to him we shall return'?" 
 
 "Hold! That saying is only for Mussulmans," cried the 
 now infuriated Benderli Ali. "You shall see whether I 
 have power to slay you or to release you." 
 
 " Thou couldest have no power against us except it were 
 given thee from above," in the very words of Jesus he 
 calmly replied to this Ottoman Pilate. 
 
 " Thankless and accursed nation," shouted the grand vizir 
 with intense anger, as he sprang from his sofa into the 
 middle of the room. " You accursed and worthless slaves, 
 whom so magnanimously we have exalted to the same height 
 as ourselves ! You to whom we have granted the free ex- 
 ercise of your foul religion ! Now you seek to trample on 
 our own necks ! No ! no ! By the Prophet, by the angels 
 who separate truth from falsehood, by the day of judgment, 
 I will hang you all ! " Clapping his hands, he shouted still 
 more loudly, " Come here ! come here ! " 
 
 Two officers entered. 
 
 "Make haste and order the bishops at the patriarchate to 
 choose another patriarch within an hour. This one I am 
 going to hang. But stop ! Por the last time I ask you : 
 Will you tell me the confession of the prisoners ? " 
 
 The patriarch uttered not a word. He held his eyes 
 fixed upon the ground. 
 
 Benderli then signed to the officers to depart, and ordered 
 his guards to carry the old man to the bostanji prison. 
 
 As soon as the news spread that the ecumenical patri- 
 arch was to be hanged, the streets and squares filled with 
 people. All sought the place in which this inhuman sacri- 
 fice was to be made. 
 
 The Jews, who usually on Easter Sunday wear their 
 worst clothes, to-day put on their diamonds and ornaments. 
 Mingling with the Ottomans, they inflamed them against 
 the unfortunate Christians. The latter, foreseeing the 
 tempest, entreated the earth to open and hide them. 
 
 Then the executioner entered to bind the hands of 
 Gregory, who was waiting absorbed in prayer. He ordered 
 him to follow. A shudder convulsed the aged form. Who 
 could remain unmoved at such a moment ? Did not Christ 
 
A Frightful Scene 13 
 
 himself say, when praying prostrate on the o^fcher side of 
 the brook Kedron, " Father, if it be possible, let this cup 
 pass from me " ? 
 
 The patriarch followed the executioner. As he walked 
 slowly and with dignity, the fierce Nubian pushed him. 
 " Go faster," he said. " You are not the only one I have to 
 despatch." 
 
 " I do not walk slowly, my man, in order to hinder you 
 in your work," the martyr replied with a smile. " I am 
 almost eighty years old, and I am unable to go faster." 
 
 The quarter of the patriarchate was packed with janis- 
 saries and with an Ottoman and Jewish mob. The crowds 
 elbowed each other to obtain the best place. The masts 
 of the Ottoman fleet and every high spot accessible were 
 covered with countless people. The hills, the windows, and 
 the minarets of the mosques presented a loathsome spectacle 
 of general exultation. 
 
 At almost that very hour when Gregory was being 
 brought upon a skiff to Phanar by the executioners and 
 guards, Eugenios, the newly consecrated patriarch, entered 
 the gateway of the patriarchate with unusual pomp. 
 
 The bishops and the other high clergy in his train, seeing 
 the gibbet and their former chief smeared with blood, with 
 torn clothing and bound as a malefactor, mingled with the 
 psalm-singing of the new enthronement their secret prayers 
 for the repose of the soul of him who had been three times 
 elected to the patriarchal throne. 
 
 "Now, traitor, if you wish to beg the mercy of the 
 padishah, it is too late," said the secretary of the Reis 
 Effendi, who had been expressly sent for the degradation 
 and removal of the patriarch. 
 
 " I shall beg the mercy of the Most High for you and 
 for your impious masters. I die now, but you will die 
 that death which sooner or later awaits every man. Turn 
 and behold these crowds. All are creatures, made by the 
 Lord your God. Woe unto him who wrongs or puts to 
 death one of these ! " 
 
 The chief secretary and the hangman looked at each 
 other. 
 
 " Become a Mussulman," whispered the former, " and at 
 once I will let you go." 
 
 " A Mussulman ! a Mussulman ! " the patriarch replied, 
 regarding him with contempt. " May God forgive you for 
 
14 Andronike 
 
 the blasphemy you have uttered. May Jesus Christ, now 
 so shamefully persecuted, rescue your sinful souls from 
 the hands of Satan. Execute your master's command. 
 Remember, if you do not hasten, your own head will fall 
 before sunset." 
 
 He pointed toward the fiery ball of the sun, here and 
 there parting the cloudy and darksome sky, seeming in 
 truth like the Holy Spirit, which the children of the Ortho- 
 dox Church still believe then descended upon the head of 
 its great martyr. 
 
 " Finish with the giaour," cried the chief secretary to the 
 executioner, madly stamping his foot. 
 
 The latter seized Gregory by the beard, threw his priestly 
 cap in mockery to the ground, and fastened round his neck 
 the fatal cord. The eyes of the patriarch, raised toward 
 heaven, involuntarily fell upon the windows of the patri- 
 archate. There he saw the young Thrasyboulos, overcome 
 with grief. The calm of the patriarch, till then unbroken, 
 was at once changed into bitterness of soul. He suffered 
 what Socrates himself suffered when before his death he 
 saw his weeping and distressed disciples. 
 
 " God forgive you," he uttered for the last time, and his 
 eyes closed forever. 
 
 Such, on the twenty-second of April, in the year 1821, 
 was the martyrdom of Gregory V, two hundred and eighty- 
 sixth Patriarch of Constantinople, reckoning from Andrew 
 the Apostle, who here first preached the word of God and 
 erected the ecclesiastical throne of this ancient metropolis. 
 
 An hour afterward the grand vizir arrived, accompanied 
 by janissaries and officials. Sitting on a bench opposite 
 the sacred remains, he smoked and joked about them with 
 his men. Next he placed upon the breast of the dead a 
 paper with the inscription, "A traitor to the kingdom," 
 and fastened the decree upon the gate of the patriarchate. 
 
The Fate of the Bishops 15 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE FATE OF THE BISHOPS 
 
 A large boat left the quay of the seraglio under the 
 eyes of the sultan, and headed toward the Bosphorus. In 
 addition to the boatmen, the helmsman, and a few janis- 
 saries, it carried the bishops whom we have seen in the 
 bostanji prison. 
 
 The boat might be called the bark of Charon, for it was 
 conveying these holy fathers to the other world. Above 
 the helmsman the swarthy executioner stood erect. He 
 was an active old man, with a rough white beard, with fiery 
 eyes rolling in deep orbits, and with strength unconquered 
 by age. With his impassive bearing he resembled mar- 
 vellously that unshaken son of Night and Erebus, the 
 mythologic, gloomy-browed Charon. 
 
 The boatmen sang a Turkish love-song in derision of the 
 priests, who were intoning their funeral hymn and praying 
 and exchanging their last embraces, repeating, " Blessed is 
 the road over which we journey to-day.'' 
 
 At last they reached Baluk Bazar Kapou, that is, the 
 Fish Gate of Galata. 
 
 " Get up ! " cried the hangman, kicking the venerable 
 Archbishop of Ephesus. " Shame to an old man like you 
 to fear death ! Get up ! Here is your place," he said, as 
 he sprang upon the wooden landing. 
 
 The archbishop rose and followed him. "0 God, after 
 winter thou makest peace. After sorrow and tears, thou 
 grantest joy. Inscrutable are thy judgments. Infinite is 
 the depth of thy counsels." Then to his fellow priests he 
 murmured, " Forgive me, brethren, and may God forgive 
 you." But before he ended the experienced executioner 
 had finished his task. 
 
 The boat now kept on higher up toward Parmak Kapou, 
 and the songs of the boatmen grew more merry. 
 
 " It is your turn now," said the hangman in a threatening 
 voice to the Bishop of Mcomedia, as he lighted a pipe and 
 then began to drink a glass of lemonade. " Do you see ? I 
 take this cooling drink that I may finish you off without 
 trouble." 
 
16 Andronike 
 
 The aged bishop, whom the death of the Archbishop of 
 Ephesus had completely unnerved, fainted at these inhuman 
 words, and died before the boat touched the pier. 
 
 " Get up ! " said the hangman, giving him a kick ; then, as 
 he did not move, he kicked him again more violently in the 
 side. 
 
 " Kise, reverend father of Nicomedia," said the Bishop of 
 Anchialos, in a firm voice; "collect your strength to climb 
 this short ladder to the Most High. A moment more and, 
 reaching the top, you will reach paradise." 
 
 The words were spoken only to lifeless remains. His 
 soul had already joined those of the patriarch and the 
 Bishop of Ephesus. 
 
 " Let us use force, since kindness does no good," said a 
 janissary. " But see, he is dead," he added, with a sneer on 
 approaching the body. " He is doing it on purpose. These 
 giaours are like foxes, and pretend to be dead when they 
 can't run away ; so one is deceived and lets them go." 
 
 "Living or dead," said the hangman, "I'll not humor 
 him. I'll fix him with my precious little rope," fastening 
 his cord to the neck of the bishop and leaving him hanging 
 at Parmak Kapou. 
 
 Then the boat approached the other end of Galata, and 
 the executioner in the same brutal fashion bade the Bishop 
 of Anchialos follow. So he, too, disembarked, and slowly 
 and unmoved approached the gallows. 
 
 Our hand can linger no longer on this harrowing but 
 truthful recital. The suffering bishops of Tirnova and 
 Adrianople were hanged a few days later at Arnaoutkeui, 
 the Bishop of Thessalonica at Yenikeui, and the Bishop of 
 Derkon at Therapia. The virtuous Kyril, a former ecumeni- 
 cal patriarch, then living retired in Adrianople, was put to 
 death in that city. Many others of the high clergy were 
 likewise slain in other parts of Sultan Mahmoud's empire. 
 Already had begun one of the most fearful tragedies which 
 the human race has ever seen. 
 
 The ambassadors of England, France, and Eussia pre- 
 sented remonstrances to the sultan on account of the 
 murders of the patriarch and bishops. He replied that, as 
 an absolute and independent sovereign, he was responsible 
 only to God, from whom he received his empire. Then he 
 ordered the Ottomans to unsheathe the sword and cut down 
 the Christians. 
 
The Departure 17 
 
 Whenever Islam has gained a victory over Christianity, 
 it has been merciless. Now, however, when it clearly saw 
 itself tottering, it plunged the sword into the bodies of 
 babes and women with the same frenzy as into the men by 
 whom it felt itself threatened. Discharges of firearms, 
 wild and infuriate cries, groans, and laments, and destruc- 
 tive conflagrations overhung by clouds of smoke, prevailed 
 for many days in different quarters of the city. 
 
 Can the Christian refrain from emotion at the fate of 
 this queen city, once triumphant under its Christian 
 Emperors ! 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE DEPARTURE 
 
 Thrastboulos left the patriarchate by night, and went 
 to the pier of Phanar without being seen. Three days 
 before, on quitting the patriarch, he had crossed to a cafe 
 in Galata which Greek sailors frequented and there made 
 the acquaintance of Nicolas Sclavos, captain of an Ionian 
 ship which on Easter Monday was to sail for Odessa. That 
 same evening he had gone on board the vessel. When on 
 the following day he learned of the deposition of Gregory, 
 he landed at once and ran to the patriarchate. There he 
 witnessed the death of his uncle. 
 
 He was not able to depart immediately, for the slaughter 
 had already commenced and none of the Christian vessels 
 were permitted to weigh anchor. It was the sultan's de- 
 sign that Europe should know nothing of what was going 
 on until after the last execution. 
 
 Arriving at the pier, Thrasyboulos sought for some means 
 of reaching the ship of Nicolas Sclavos, which was not far 
 off. He meant to persuade the captain to take the remains 
 of the patriarch on board and carry them to Odessa for 
 burial there. Finding no boat, he stripped off his clothes, 
 plunged into the water, and swam to the vessel. 
 
 " You have got the start of us," said the captain. " We 
 ourselves had the same plan. We mean to take down the 
 sacred remains from the gallows if we can." After Thra- 
 syboulos had made arrangements with the captain, the ship's 
 boat carried him to land. 
 
18 Andronike 
 
 Approaching the patriarchate in the dim light afforded 
 by the lamp over the gateway, he saw shadows of two men, 
 moving slowly and cautiously not far from the soldiers who 
 were guarding the corpse. 
 
 " What are you doing here ? " asked Thrasyboulos, when 
 near them. 
 
 u Is it you yourself, sir ? Don't you know me ? I came 
 to see if I could save the patriarch's body from injury. 
 The gentleman with me is the younger son of Prince Mou- 
 rouzis." 
 
 In the indistinct light Thrasyboulos recognized the Greek 
 boatman to whom the patriarch Gregory the day before his 
 death had given the diamond snuff-box of the sultan. " I 
 want," he said, " to get down the body, now that the streets 
 are somewhat free from the janissaries, and to carry it to 
 my house, so it may escape insult, and afterwards take it to 
 the church." 
 
 Thrasyboulos thanked him. Then he told him the plan 
 he and the captain had made for the following night. They 
 agreed therefore to come the next night, and also that the 
 family of Mourouzis should embark on the same ship. 
 
 The designs of Thrasyboulos were frustrated by new 
 commands of the grand vizir. 
 
 Benderli Ali ordered the remains of the patriarch and of 
 the bishops to be given to the populace and dragged through 
 the streets. The minister of the Sublime Porte supposed 
 that by such sacrilege he could overawe the Greeks, who 
 were seeking to break their chains. 
 
 Thrasyboulos was in his chamber when he learned that 
 the mob was engaged in this foul pastime. He ran down 
 into the street. There he saw a crowd, dragging the body 
 of Gregory over the rough pavements of Phanar. They 
 had also stolen the icons and sacred vessels from the chief 
 churches of the capital. These they had broken to pieces 
 and were hurling them at the houses of the Christians, aim- 
 ing at every man's head which appeared in a window. 
 
 It was useless to follow such a maddened multitude. He 
 returned to the patriarchate and threw himself upon his 
 couch, a prey to sickening despair. When the mob grew 
 weary of pulling the dead body about, they threw it into 
 the Golden Horn. 
 
 That evening Thrasyboulos was on his way to the harbor, 
 hoping at last to quit the city of so many horrors, when 
 
The Departure 19 
 
 again the boatman stood before him. " Ah, glory to God ! 
 Do you know that I have been able to hide the patriarch's 
 remains ! " 
 
 " It is impossible ! How could you do it ? " 
 
 " While the crowd was dragging the body, I followed them 
 at a distance. Christ blinded their eyes and they cast it 
 into the water near my boat. As soon as it was night, I 
 and the sailors of Captain Sclavos dived for it again and 
 again, and at last we found it, for the wretches had tied a 
 heavy stone round the neck." 
 
 " Is it very much disfigured ? " 
 
 "How can it be otherwise? The vile ruffians pulled it 
 about so long." 
 
 "Where is it now?" 
 
 "In the ship. As soon as we found it, we covered it 
 with a straw matting until it should be very dark. Then 
 we carried it to the ship of Captain Sclavos." 
 
 "One moment, and I will be with you again," said Thra- 
 syboulos, and he flew to the patriarchate. He seized the 
 few things necessary for his journey and returned. 
 
 "What is your name, my good man ? " he asked the boat- 
 man, putting some pieces of gold into his hand. 
 
 " Lampikis : my father was once a wealthy diamond 
 merchant. The Turks cut off his head, took all his property, 
 and I became a boatman." 
 
 " My name is Thrasyboulos. In this world it is only the 
 mountains that never meet, but men see each other again. 
 Good-by. Do not forget me. I believe I shall see you 
 again in happier times." 
 
 " A good journey to you, my master. God and the bless- 
 ing of the patriarch be with you," said the boatman, kissing 
 the hand of Thrasyboulos. 
 
 From the Russian journals of that day we know how rev- 
 erently the patriarch's remains were received at Odessa, and 
 with what magnificence they were committed to the tomb. 
 
 The very day he set foot in Odessa, Thrasyboulos sent the 
 following brief letter to Andronike, the Peloponnesian 
 maiden, his betrothed : — 
 
 My beloved Andronike, — I have escaped as by miracle. As 
 soon as I am rested a little, I shall tell you all about the sad death 
 of the patriarch and the bishops. My darling, in the midst of 
 everything I think of you. Probably the Peloponnesus is now tho 
 centre of terrible events. 
 
20 Andronike 
 
 May God place his protecting hand on your head ; my beautiful, 
 my best beloved Andronike. May he rescue you from the dan- 
 gers that threaten every Christian. To-morrow I shall write you 
 fully. 
 
 Your loving Thrasyboulos. 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THRASYBOULOS AND ANDRONIKE 
 
 In Arcadia, that fair and healthful district of Pelopon- 
 nesus, that tiny Greek Switzerland full of lofty mountains 
 and running brooks, where to-day, as in ancient times, 
 Diana and Pan receive the quiet devotion of the inhabi- 
 tants, one finds, not far from the river Alphaeus, the little 
 city of Demetzana, the birthplace of the murdered Patri- 
 arch Gregory V. 
 
 Let us transport ourselves to Demetzana, or rather to 
 Arcadia, almost two years before the cruel scenes which 
 we have described. 
 
 One summer day, in 1819, as the almost setting sun 
 gilded the wooded crests of Mounts Cyllene and Parasios, 
 a beautiful shepherdess led her little flock down from a 
 height to one of those refreshing valleys which lie at the 
 mountain's foot. She sat down, not far from a crystal 
 spring which lost itself with gentle murmur in the pebbles 
 and sands. 
 
 Her figure was tall, comely, robust, yet supple as that of 
 the gazelle. Her long, luxuriant hair was ebon black. 
 Her dark and almond eyes shone like glowing coals. The 
 complexion of her oval face was clear and lily-white; but 
 when her anger was roused, her cheeks purpled, so dark 
 was their crimson. 
 
 She was indeed the true type of those huntresses who 
 once roamed after golden-horned stags with Diana over 
 those same slopes. In other words, she was a Greek 
 beauty ; not one of those whom the traveller can find to- 
 day silk-robed and corseted in drawing-rooms, but such as 
 may be met wandering with their sheep over the mountains 
 and groves of Arcadia, like the nymphs, or on the plains 
 of Messenia, like Rebecca drawing water from the well. 
 
Thrasyboulos and Andronike 21 
 
 She unfastened a small wallet from her shoulders; then, 
 taking from it a little bread, she cried, " Here, my chil- 
 dren, come here ! " 
 
 Her sheep, as well as two great shepherd dogs, sur- 
 rounded her. 
 
 u Here, Agriope , this bit is for you. You, Galateia, take 
 that. You, Euridike, that; and you, Calathaea, that." So 
 she divided the bread among her sheep, to each of whom 
 she had given the name of a dryad or an oread or a nymph 
 of Parnassus. 
 
 Soon the sheep and dogs stretched themselves out upon 
 the grass. Then, resting her two hands on her shepherd's 
 staff, she began to sing this hymn of Rhegas : — 
 
 " O my children, 
 
 O my orphans, 
 Scattered here and there ; 
 
 Insults bearing, 
 
 Persecuted 
 By men everywhere, 
 
 From your labor 
 
 In each village 
 All you gain is bread. 
 
 Serfs of tyrants, 
 
 Tools of masters, 
 
 Lift each slavish head ! 
 Wake, my children ! Sounds the hour 
 When blest Freedom shows her power, 
 And for you her feast is spread ! " 
 
 Her silvery and expressive voice filled the valley with 
 melody. Like the piercing lament of Demeter, who once 
 in the same Arcadia, from the cave of Phigalia, woke the 
 rocks and waters to sympathy for her lost Persephone, her 
 song would have moved the heart of any traveller who 
 by chance might be wandering through enslaved Greece. 
 
 This hymn, however, did excite one human being, un- 
 seen at the farther end of the valley. It was the young 
 Thrasyboulos, whose acquaintance we have already made. 
 He was that day hunting on the mountains, and on his 
 way back to Demetzana had sat down on a stone to rest. 
 
 He sprang up, feeling a thrill of enthusiasm at the patri- 
 otic song, yet half believing it a trick of fancy. At the 
 first turn in the valley he found himself face to face with 
 the shepherdess. 
 
22 Andronike 
 
 As her dogs sprang at him, he said to the young woman, 
 "Do not be afraid; do not be afraid. I am not a man to 
 harm you." 
 
 "To do me harm!" she interrupted haughtily; "I am 
 not afraid of you. You are but one and I am one." 
 
 "Ah, shepherdess, I see that you are brave as you are 
 beautiful. But, my friend, unarmed as you appear to be, 
 what would happen if you should meet two or three 
 Turks ? " 
 
 "I am not unarmed," she replied, quieting her dogs. 
 " I have two pistols and a sharp dagger concealed here. 
 Besides, I have my two dogs and my feet, which are 
 swift." 
 
 The admiration of Thrasyboulos increased. "You 
 resemble Athena both in beauty and courage," he said in 
 a low tone. 
 
 "I am like one of the women who in the ancient times 
 lived on the other side of those mountains," she said, 
 pointing to the cloud-capped summits of the Spartan 
 Taygetus. 
 
 "By my soul, beautiful shepherdess, your words move 
 to tears and ecstasy. What is your name ? " 
 
 "Ask the wolves and the birds. They all know my 
 name." 
 
 "Stop a moment, shepherdess," Thrasyboulos cried to 
 the girl as she turned to depart. "Pardon me for the 
 question, but do you know how to read ? " 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! Pardon me for my laughter, but can you 
 yourself understand this book ? " she retaliated, taking a 
 small volume from under her mantle and showing it to the 
 youth. "By the Panaghia, 1 Diogenes, if he had found the 
 man he sought with his lantern , would not have been so 
 astounded. Farewell, best of mortals, as this divine 
 Homer says," she added with a merry laugh. "The sun 
 is setting and I must leave you." Turning, she called to 
 her dogs: "Gome, my children; come, Melampos and 
 ActsBon, let us go ; " and in a twinkling she was far from 
 the spot. 
 
 Thrasyboulos became more and more excited. The 
 shepherdess seemed to him like the beautiful Atalanta, the 
 heroine of the Caledonian hunt, whom in mythologic days 
 the same Arcadia had brought forth. 
 
 "No! By my soul, you shall not escape me," said Thra- 
 i The Holy Virgin. 
 
Thrasyboulos and Andronike 23 
 
 syboulos, as she was about to vanish from his sight. Rous- 
 ing from the intoxication into which she had plunged him, 
 he ran at full speed after her. 
 
 In a few moments he had the delight of seeing her from 
 a distance enter a tower which rose near the entrance to 
 the valley. Then he slackened his steps, and by the time 
 the stars came out on the vault of heaven he was near the 
 tower. 
 
 " Whom does that tower belong to , Frank ? " Thra- 
 syboulos demanded of a little 'man, dressed in European 
 costume, — a style exceedingly rare in Greece at that 
 period, — who with arms folded behind him, was walking 
 in front of the gate. 
 
 "The demogeront Athanasiades," he replied dryly. 
 
 "What is the demogeront ? Rich or poor ? Married or 
 single ? " 
 
 " Rich ; a widower with two children, a son and a daugh- 
 ter beautiful as the Vasilike of Ali Pasha. I have the 
 honor to be her professor." 
 
 "Ah, Frank; you are the teacher of the beautiful daugh- 
 ter of the demogeront, " said Thrasyboulos. 
 
 " Her professor, sir ! " 
 
 " And what do you teach her ? " 
 
 " Greek. I have taught her all the poets. She knows 
 by heart Homer and Pindar. She has a wonderful memory 
 for history and mythology." 
 
 H Kyrios 1 Prof essor, I begin to suspect that the young 
 woman must love you very much," said Thrasyboulos, 
 naively. 
 
 " How have you found that out ? " asked the teacher, 
 staring with open eyes. 
 
 "If a young woman is intelligent and admires great 
 men, she cannot remain insensible in daily intercourse to 
 a man who teaches her about great men. It seems that 
 you do not understand your position, Kyrios Professor. A 
 man who teaches about great men is himself taken for a 
 great man." 
 
 "Hunter, you are right. As I observe that you are a 
 clever man, I ought not to hide from you that the beautiful 
 Andronike loves me as passionately as I worship her." 
 
 Thrasyboulos felt an involuntary pang of jealousy. He 
 glanced at the man, and under the clear sky he saw a long, 
 narrow, sallow, middle-aged face, with a thick nose and 
 
 1 Mister. 
 
24 Andronike 
 
 long ears. The head was sunken in his shoulders, and his 
 eyes were small and fixed. His right side was deformed, 
 and he was bow-legged. 
 
 " What is your name, happy mortal ? " asked Thra- 
 syboulos. 
 
 "Barthakas, sir." 
 
 " Barthakas. I want, Kyrios Barthakas, to see this angel. 
 I fear that your lively fancy exaggerates. Men often be- 
 come infatuated with plain faces, and from constant inter- 
 course think them beautiful as the Aphrodite of Apelles." 
 
 " From what part of the Peloponnesus are you, sir ? " 
 
 "From Demetzana, where my father is a shoemaker." 
 
 " You shall see this Aphrodite of Apelles. Shall I tell 
 you the truth ? If you were not a shoemaker's son I would 
 never present you. You are handsome and enterprising, 
 and might play me tricks. But a shoemaker ! You have 
 to do with proud people. Andronike and her father are 
 very haughty, and I do not fear you. Have you any game 
 in your little bag ? " 
 
 "A little." 
 
 "Pretend that you want to sell it. Follow me." 
 
 The demogeront was a tall, large-framed man with grey 
 hair and lustrous eyes. He united the Greek type with 
 something of Turkish stateliness. 
 
 Andronike had discarded her veil and shepherdess cos- 
 tume for a house dress. Thus attired, she seemed ten 
 times more entrancing to Thrasyboulos than when he met 
 her in the valley. She recognized him, blushed, and on 
 some pretext left the room as he entered. 
 
 " What do you ask for your game ? " asked the 
 demogeront. 
 
 "Nothing, sir; but can you let me have a chamber or 
 a loft, where I may pass the night ? When coming down 
 the mountain, I hurt my knee and am unable to continue 
 my way to the city." 
 
 Barthakas opened his little eyes and regarded him 
 sharply. 
 
 "Yes, my pallikari," said the demogeront; "gladly will 
 I give you a chamber, and, moreover, we will dine on your 
 game." 
 
 "Andronike," he called, "the gentleman here will dine 
 with us and sleep in our tower, since he hurt his foot, and 
 is unable to return to Demetzana." 
 
Thrasyboulos and Andronike 25 
 
 The young girl silently and in surprise bowed to Thra- 
 syboulos, took the game, and, according to the custom of 
 the place, went out to attend to the rites of hospitality. 
 
 The teacher began to be uneasy. " Do you know that 
 the demogeront takes you for a gentleman ? " he said to 
 Thrasyboulos; "but don't be troubled. I will not tell 
 him that you are the son of a shoemaker." 
 
 "I intend to tell him myself," he answered calmly. 
 
 Quickly he took off his hunting-clothes, performed his 
 toilet, and put on an elegant light pelisse loaned him by 
 the demogeront; then he came in to dinner, where the 
 father, the daughter, and the teacher were waiting for 
 him. 
 
 It is a saying of Lavater, the famous reader of faces, 
 that the first years of youth indicate the history of a man. 
 In truth, if any one had studied the countenance of Thra- 
 syboulos that night, when he was barely twenty, he would 
 have been sure that his future career was full of promise. 
 
 His forehead was square, slightly depressed in the 
 middle. His eyes, deep blue and of ordinary size, were 
 not unusually expressive nor inquisitive; yet they pene- 
 trated the thoughts of others, and exerted a mysterious in- 
 fluence on whomever they were fixed. The expression of 
 his face aroused sympathy and inspired confidence. His 
 figure was tall, sinewy, and slender; his gait quick, ener- 
 getic, and sometimes impatient. 
 
 Thrasyboulos was wont to observe and examine, while 
 Andronike observed and felt. He was gentle and affable, 
 but cautious in speech; she was haughty, careless, and 
 always frank. 
 
 With an imagination kindled by mythology, history, and 
 classic poetry, the only study for which she cared, without 
 other intimates than her father and brother, Andronike 
 had created in her heart an ideal world. She felt as if in 
 roaming over Arcadia she would meet the nymphs and 
 heroes of antiquity. 
 
 Yet, sometimes waking from her dreams in these same 
 mountains and valleys, she realized with sharp transition 
 the present condition of her country. She saw clearly the 
 servitude around her and abhorred the despots. Often she 
 burst into tears, and changed her pastoral songs into 
 national laments and, like a Spartan maiden, prayed that 
 all might die or Greece be delivered. 
 
26 Andronike 
 
 As for her teacher, Barthakas, he had dwelt five years in 
 her father's house. She had grown accustomed to him, and 
 treated him with the kindness which the superior grants 
 to the inferior. Inasmuch as her proud and illiterate 
 father esteemed Barthakas a man of profound knowledge 
 and well acquainted with Europe, Barthakas mistook the 
 daughter's kindness for sympathy, and thought he had 
 gained her heart. So he assiduously courted the father, 
 that sooner or later he might attain the hand of Andronike. 
 Such was the state of affairs when Thrasyboulos came to 
 dine at the tower. 
 
 " Kindly tell me your name, hunter," said the demogeront 
 as they sat at table. 
 
 "Thrasyboulos, sir." 
 
 "Thrasyboulos! Pray, then, have you ever thought of 
 delivering your native country from the thirty tyrants ? " 
 cried Andronike. 
 
 " What thirty tyrants ? " her father interrupted gravely. 
 
 "I ought to have said the ten thousand tyrants," replied 
 the girl. "I mean the Turks." 
 
 "Andronike! Andronike! Be more careful of your 
 words! " said the teacher, assuming a serious manner, and 
 eyeing his plate. 
 
 " Do not be afraid of me, gentlemen," said Thrasyboulos. 
 " I am a Christian with a Greek heart. This young lady's 
 question is the question of a true Greek girl. Liberty is 
 no longer a banished word. All our hearts whisper it." 
 
 "You are mistaken, sir," interposed Barthakas. "I am 
 sure that no thoughtful, well-to-do person wants to endan- 
 ger his position." 
 
 "Everybody is thinking about freedom, except people 
 who tremble at the sound of a gun and are afraid of losing 
 their repose," cried Andronike, levelling her great eyes at 
 the teacher. 
 
 The tutor grew red. "Andronike, I — " 
 
 "Keep quiet, teacher. I know you well enough. You 
 turn like a windmill. Don't bandy words. The gentle- 
 man here will understand you." 
 
 The sallow countenance of Barthakas grew dark. An- 
 dronike's manner had shown Thrasyboulos that she had 
 not a particle of love in her heart for him. Nevertheless 
 Barthakas skilfully concealed his displeasure, and, forcing 
 a laugh, said to Thrasyboulos : " In my counsels to that 
 
Thrasyboulos and Andronike 27 
 
 young lady, Kyrios Thrasyboulos, I am like the general 
 Phocion, who knew that any sensible advice he gave the 
 Athenians would be rejected ; so when they applauded him 
 once, he said, * Surely I have said something wrong.' " 
 
 " You remember, Kyrios Thrasyboulos, that according to 
 Plutarch Phocion neither wept nor laughed," remarked 
 Andronike. " Therefore, when my teacher laughs so loud, 
 we can say that he resembles iEsop, who laughed with 
 every bod}^. Ah, Kyrios Barthakas," she added with irony, 
 " if your comparisons are so inapt, you will lose our esteem 
 for your learning." 
 
 "We have these quarrels often," said the demogeront to 
 Thrasyboulos, regarding his excited daughter with pleasure. 
 
 The crafty mind of the tutor surmised that the excited 
 mood of his pupil was due to the presence of Thrasyboulos. 
 Besides, he felt that in comparing him to iEsop she was 
 thinking of his body as well as of his mind, so, to destroy 
 the handsome hunter in her opinion, he said with a certain 
 pride: " What esteem I enjoy is my own. I have lived in 
 the great world of Europe, and there everybody knows me. 
 I am not obliged to introduce myself to any one; nor, by 
 our Holy Easter, should I greatly fear the opinion of this 
 gentleman, who is neither a king's son nor any great 
 person himself." 
 
 "It is true," said Thrasyboulos, unblushingly ; "the 
 individual now enjoying your hospitality is no great 
 person." 
 
 The demogeront bowed and added, " Men are well enough 
 known by their faces." 
 
 Andronike, at the young man's glance and smile, expe- 
 rienced a hitherto unknown sensation in her heart. 
 
 " Yes, my lord. My father, though wealthy, is a shoe- 
 maker at Demetzana," continued Thrasyboulos, with the 
 same calmness. 
 
 The little eyes of Barthakas darted with pleasure and 
 triumph from father to daughter. 
 
 "A shoemaker! You are joking," said the demogeront. 
 
 "Not at all, my lord. My father is a shoemaker. 
 Nevertheless, being a lover of letters, instead of taking me 
 into his trade, he sent me to school in Demetzana, and 
 there I learned a little." 
 
 At once the manner of the demogeront changed. At 
 that epoch men of his class were more supercilious than 
 
28 Andronike 
 
 the Ottomans themselves. Even the daughter opened her 
 dark eyes. Her pale countenance flushed. The liberal- 
 minded and intelligent girl was troubled, not so much at 
 the humble rank of this man, who had begun to creep into 
 her heart, as at the unaffected and careless way with which 
 he revealed it. 
 
 A prolonged silence took the place of conversation. 
 
 "The wise man does not consider whence men come, 
 but what they attain," said the teacher, resuming the 
 thread of the general conversation. "In the present state 
 of Greece," he added, "the rulers and the opulent and we 
 too, the professors and poets, are not slaves of the Turks. 
 Who knows what you with your talents and external ad- 
 vantages may become, though the son of a shoemaker ? 
 What says the proverb: * The clove is black, but it sells by 
 the ounce.' For example, many of our leading men have 
 arisen from the humblest families." 
 
 "It 's true. An example is my own uncle Gregory, who, 
 sprung from our lowly house, is to-day Ecumenical 
 Patriarch." 
 
 " The patriarch Gregory your uncle ! " exclaimed the 
 demogeront, arresting his fork. His haughtiness had 
 passed away like a cloud. 
 
 "He is my mother's brother," said the young man, with 
 unabated indifference. "My last letters from his holiness 
 summon me to Constantinople to complete my studies 
 there, and enter upon a profession somewhat higher than 
 my father's." 
 
 The demogeront now recollected that the patriarch 
 Gregory was born of poor parents in the town of Demet- 
 zana, but that his learning and virtue had caused the 
 mitre to be placed upon his head. 
 
 During that night three persons did not close their eyes. 
 They were Thrasyboulos, already in love with Andronike; 
 Andronike, who for the first time met one worthy of her 
 dreams ; and Barthakas, who cursed the hour in which he 
 introduced the hunter to the house. 
 
 On the following morning Andronike took Thrasyboulos 
 all over the house to show him her treasures. " What are 
 these ? " he asked on entering a room the walls of which 
 were covered with skins. 
 
 " They are the skins of animals which I have killed on 
 the mountains." 
 
Thrasyboulos and Andronike 29 
 
 "I pray you, young lady, relieve my anxiety. Do you 
 always go about alone, as yesterday, in these desert 
 places ? " 
 
 "Not alone. I have my flock and my two dogs." 
 
 " Does not your father or brother or teacher ever accom- 
 pany you ? " 
 
 " Are the many shepherd girls who tend their flocks on 
 our hills accompanied, that I need a companion ? " she 
 answered haughtily. " Besides, my father has his public 
 affairs to attend to. My brother looks after our lands, 
 and Kyrios Barthakas is too timid. Then, too, his feet 
 are too crooked to follow," she added with a laugh. 
 
 " Have you never had an accident ? Have you never 
 met robbers or other rascals ? " 
 
 " I always avoid the thick woods, and I go only where it 
 is open. My dogs are always quick to show me the tracks 
 of men and beasts. Once, however, I encountered a Turk, 
 who sprang upon me from a hiding-place, but it was un- 
 lucky for him. My dogs mangled him, and I hurt him 
 with my knife. I escaped and fled, leaving him in a bad 
 condition. I do not know what became of him." 
 
 " Forgive me one other question. How does your father 
 let you lead such a life ? " 
 
 " My father loves me, and cannot prevent my doing as I 
 wish. He knows that I should not live ten days if my 
 manner of life changed. Then I have made such excur- 
 sions ever since I was a child, and he has become accus- 
 tomed to them. When a person is once for all accustomed 
 to danger, he never imagines that any harm can come out 
 of it." 
 
 " Did not Kyrios Barthakas ever ask to go with you ? " 
 
 "Only once. Not being able to keep up, he fell into a 
 chasm, and it took him two days to find the way home. 
 Since then my tutor has been so panic-stricken that, much 
 as he wishes, he never dares to go with me." 
 
 At that very moment the teacher entered. He had been 
 hunting for them everywhere. The conversation changed, 
 and Thrasyboulos soon left the tower; but the demogeront 
 invited him to visit them again. 
 
 The father of the beautiful Arcadian had conceived the 
 idea of uniting his daughter with the nephew of the 
 patriarch. 
 
30 Andronike 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE OATH AND THE BETROTHAL 
 
 Thbasyboulos and Andronike met more than once upon 
 the mountains. Soon the shepherdess of Arcadia became 
 as unhappy as Calypso if a single day passed without her 
 seeing Thrasyboulos. With him she traversed the ancient 
 places of Arcadia, The thought of the past and of liberty 
 inflamed them to enthusiasm. They sang their heroic and 
 mournful songs, and amid these surroundings recalled the 
 grand events of Greek history, the only education either of 
 them possessed. 
 
 One evening, six months after their first meeting, 
 Andronike informed him that she planned to visit one of 
 her aunts, who lived at Mazi, a village near the ancient 
 fountain Cleitor. Andronike indeed desired to spend a 
 few days with this aunt, but her principal object was with 
 Thrasyboulos to visit Mavroneri, or the ancient Styx, 
 which is not far from that village. She told him that when 
 there she was going to intrust him with an important 
 secret. 
 
 The day after reaching Mazi they went to Naucria, a 
 village on the site of the ancient city Nonacrios. The 
 fountain-head of the infernal river was close by. 
 
 "You are sober, Thrasyboulos," said Andronike, as they 
 sat opposite the Styx. " This is the first time I see you 
 so. In all the way you have not spoken to me ten words." 
 
 "I was trying to make out, dearest, what you have to 
 tell me, and at the same time I was thinking of what I 
 have to tell you," he said with a sad smile. 
 
 " You have something to tell me ! " 
 
 " Yes ; forgive me for telling my secret first. Next week, 
 Andronike, we must part! " 
 
 "We must part!" 
 
 "For several months my uncle in Constantinople has 
 been writing to me to come there. Up to the present I 
 have put off my journey, under one pretext and another. 
 But the letters of the patriarch have already become so 
 urgent that day before yesterday my father definitely 
 ordered me to set out next week. The patriarch has 
 
The Oath and the Betrothal 31 
 
 written to hini that, if he does not wish to send me he 
 should inform him, so that he may adopt another of our 
 relatives who eagerly desires the place. My father knows 
 nothing of our love for each other. Your father must 
 have already learned it from Barthakas, from whose evil 
 soul nothing is hidden. We have all to-day before us. 
 Let us study how we can make our happiness lifelong." 
 
 "My happiness will end the moment you set out for 
 Constantinople," said Andronike, pale and anxious. 
 "When you reach that great capital as nephew of the 
 patriarch, will you any longer remember a poor Arcadian 
 girl ? " 
 
 " Andronike, your words are bitter ! Tell me, my dar- 
 ling," said he, taking her hand while the tears dropped 
 from her eyes, " have you ever heard a falsehood from my 
 lips ? " 
 
 "I am ashamed of myself to cry so, just like a child," 
 Andronike said, paying no attention to his words. 
 
 "My soul, Andronike! Listen to what I say to you. 
 Do you think I am a man who is able to keep his word ? " 
 
 " If I did not suppose you were, I would not have let 
 myself love you." 
 
 "Then I say to you that I will not step outside of 
 Arcadia until we are formally betrothed. Do you think 
 that your father will consent to our marriage ? " 
 
 "A few days ago I had a long conversation with my 
 father on this subject," said Andronike, blushing slightly. 
 "He is good, of high character, but proud and ambitious. 
 Unfortunately he is greatly influenced by Barthakas. The 
 wretch has put into his mind some strange ideas; among 
 others, that, though you are the nephew of the patriarch, 
 the patriarch has recognized none of his kindred since he 
 reached the throne, and that you use his name only to 
 deceive my father, who is rich, and to marry me. He 
 calls the letters of the patriarch, which at different times 
 you have showed me, so many forgeries." 
 
 "His soul is like his body," said Thrasyboulos, calmly. 
 "I will tell my parents of our love. I will write to the 
 patriarch, and I do not doubt that my uncle will approve 
 our betrothal." 
 
 "What you say to me, Thrasyboulos, is like the sun in 
 winter. It gives light, but no warmth," she added with 
 a sad smile. 
 
32 Andronike 
 
 "I do not understand you." 
 
 "My friend, I must tell you everything to-day, because, 
 though I lose all the rest, if you are left me, I shall be 
 happy." Taking his arm, and pointing to the extended 
 horizon which lay before them, she continued in a low 
 voice: "Do you not hear from every city, from every 
 village, from every hilltop in Greece, the wild war-cry 
 which fills the air ? Do you not hear the clash of already 
 broken chains and the clang of arms ? A few months, and 
 you will see this land deluged in blood." 
 
 " Do you mean a revolution ? " interrupted Thrasyboulos. 
 
 " I mean a holy struggle for the cross and the fatherland, 
 and the progress of the Hetairia is such that we are not far 
 from it." 
 
 " Of what Hetairia ? " 
 
 " That is the secret of which I intended to inform you. 
 Listen. After the frightful death of Rhegas, the Philo- 
 mousos Hetairia was founded at Vienna. At its head was 
 Yannis Capodistrias. Its design was to diffuse education 
 among the enslaved Greeks, and by this means gradually 
 to prepare them for freedom. The Philike Hetairia 
 is a consequence Six years ago three immortal men, 
 Scouphas, Tsacaloff, and Anagnostopoulos, conceived the 
 daring and desperate idea of preparing every Greek for 
 freedom, not by letters but by arms; in other words, to 
 rouse from their lethargy the inhabitants of enslaved 
 Greece. After incredible sacrifices and labor, after being 
 at first mocked at as fools on account of their great 
 undertaking, these three indomitable men succeeded in 
 their design; that is, they founded a Hetairia, divided 
 into seven grades, and having symbols, passwords, oaths, 
 and a cypher like the freemasons. The richest and most 
 capable men of our nation, who are to direct our holy 
 struggle, are connected with it. There is not a city nor 
 a village, Thrasyboulos, which the Hetairia has not 
 reached. For you to realize on how firm foundations 
 this undertaking rests, I may say that your uncle the 
 patriarch knows all about it. I believe his purpose in 
 sending for you is to have you enter on this limitless 
 career of glory." 
 
 " How have you learnt all this ? " asked Thrasyboulos, 
 in astonishment. 
 
 " In a strange way. Some days ago, as you remember, I 
 
The Oath and the Betrothal 33 
 
 went to Hermione with my father. After our arrival 
 there I went out to see the ruins of the temples of Demeter 
 and Persephone. I had hardly sat down in the recess of 
 a rock, when I heard pistol-shots close by. They were 
 followed by a groan and the words, ' You have killed me, 
 you dogs ! ' I rose up in terror; but before I could take a 
 step a man rushed in front of me, pale and trembling. 
 
 " * Who are you, wretch ? % I cried, drawing my pistol. 
 After I had escaped from the hollow, I saw another man 
 coming who was weeping. * We are not bad men,' said the 
 first, still trembling. 4 If we had not killed that Iscariot, 
 he would have ruined the whole nation. 9 Then he showed 
 me at a little distance a dark man, with square shoulders 
 and beard and moustache, lying dead on the ground. 
 
 "I remember that I was so terrified that I started to fly 
 to Hermione. The two men ran after me, and falling on 
 their knees besought me to listen. Their manner assured 
 me that they were not villains, and I stopped. ' Before we 
 tell you who that dead man is and who we are, ' said one, 
 ' tell us, have you a Greek heart ? ' ' Greek ! \ I exclaimed 
 with my usual but perhaps senseless enthusiasm. * I detest 
 the Turks, and I mourn night and day at the slavery of 
 Greece.' * Then we have nothing to fear from this girl,' 
 said the men to each other. Afterwards one of them 
 continued, * My name is Tsacaloff, and the dead man is 
 Nicolas Galatis of the island of Ithaca.' 
 
 " Tsacaloff told me about the Hetairia and its progress. 
 I learned the names of its most distinguished members. 
 1 The killed Nicolas Galatis, ' he continued, ' also belonged 
 to the Hetairia, but he was a man of vile disposition. He 
 wanted to squander the money of the Hetairia, and threat- 
 ened, if they did not give him what he asked, to betray 
 them all to the Turks. He started one day to go to Chaled 
 Effendi and confess everything, but by divine Providence 
 he was met by another man from Ithaca and prevented. 
 The labors and sacrifices of so many people through so 
 many years would be brought to naught if we permitted 
 this man to live. Our tears show that we are not assassins. 
 We have done what Brutus did to his own son. But since 
 unluckily you have been a witness of this scene, you must 
 either become a member of the Hetairia, or, if you do not 
 desire to do so, you must keep this execution secret, at 
 least one month, until we are far from Argolis ! } 
 
 3 
 
34 Andronike 
 
 " Since that time I have been a member of the Hetairia, 
 and I swore that for at least one month I would not utter a 
 word to any one concerning this affair. That is why up 
 to the present I have said nothing to you. To-day I am 
 absolved from my oath, and I have brought you here to 
 tell you about it." 
 
 " Is your father a member of the Hetairia ? " asked 
 Thrasyboulos, raising his head, which, a prey to conflict- 
 ing emotions, he leaned upon his arms. 
 
 "No," said Andronike. "However, he has some knowl- 
 edge of it, because in its progress it has affected all the 
 Greeks. I think Barthakas has advised him to remain 
 faithful to the Turks so as not to lose his property." 
 
 " I suspected as much. It is best to say nothing to him," 
 said Thrasyboulos. " Otherwise family dissensions would 
 begin. But, Andronike, here you are a woman taking part 
 in this grand undertaking, and do you wish me, a young 
 and healthy man, whose arm can do something, to remain 
 a stranger to it until the last moment ? How should I 
 then ever be worthy of your love? I now well understand 
 why the patriarch so earnestly desires me to come to 
 Constantinople." 
 
 "If you knew in what gloomy thoughts I am living, 
 Thrasyboulos, you would pity me. I foresee a violent 
 storm, in which we shall either be protected or be flung far 
 apart. And now, when you say that you must leave for 
 Constantinople, I feel myself still more unhappy. My 
 mind is full of the idea that in that city either you will for- 
 get me or be plunged into mad dangers. Nevertheless I see 
 that, if I hinder your departure, I become an obstacle to 
 your career. Go, Thrasyboulos. As for myself, know that 
 I shall love you devotedly as long as I live and breathe." 
 
 Tears poured down the cheeks of Andronike as she 
 spoke. 
 
 "And I shall worship you to the end of my life, my 
 darling, my soul, my Andronike," cried Thrasyboulos. 
 " Listen, dearest ! I will not leave Arcadia unless the patri- 
 arch and my father decide upon our marriage or at least 
 our betrothal." 
 
 "If your uncle does not approve of our union, then, that 
 I may find rest, I will throw myself from that top of 
 Mount Typaios from which in ancient times so many 
 women hurled themselves to death." 
 
The Oath and the Betrothal 35 
 
 "Andronike, let us banish these gloomy ideas. You 
 love me; I love you. Our firm and mutual resolution 
 cannot be overcome by any one who would undertake to 
 separate us. Give me your hand. Raise your eyes to 
 yonder cataract, pouring headlong from that lofty rock, to 
 the Styx before us, in whose ice-cold water our ancient 
 Olympian gods were wont to take their fearful oaths. Let 
 whichever of us two shall betray or forget the other fall 
 speechless and lifeless ! " 
 
 "Amen," said Andronike reverently, as if she were in a 
 holy place. "Let whoever shall forget the other fall 
 speechless. Let us exchange rings, Thrasyboulos. As 
 long as one of us keeps the other's ring, he is bound by 
 this oath. I was different before I knew you. I was 
 happy, happy as one of my lambs, and yet I did not know 
 it. I thought that something was wanting. I thought 
 that in my heart there was an empty place which some one 
 must fill. I met you. You entered that empty place, and 
 at once I found myself as it were strangely transformed. 
 To-day I am like the flower called * Aphrodite's Looking- 
 glass.' When it sees the sun it opens and flourishes, but 
 when the sun is hidden it closes and fades. But I will 
 not hinder your voyage, Thrasyboulos. Do you see those 
 hyacinths, symbols of our first impressions ? Do you see 
 that acacia flower, symbol of our blameless love?" She 
 pointed to the flowers which in wild luxuriance bloomed 
 on the splendid crag. " Those flowers are to me the spices 
 which the phoenix, feeling a presentiment of its approach- 
 ing death, gathers upon the mountain-top to die upon 
 them." 
 
 "Andronike, my own beautiful Andronike, who has 
 taught you to talk thus of presentiments ? Our separation 
 is hard, but nothing is yet decided, nor has the last minute 
 come. Do you not hear me, my beloved?" a.nd in his 
 agony for the first time he pressed his trembling lips to the 
 glowing cheek of the shepherdess. 
 
 The mountain girl, whose hand no other mortal had up 
 to that time pressed, whose heart had always seemed like 
 iron, was now like the glowing metal which softens only 
 in the fire. 
 
 Suddenly a groan, followed by a slight rustling in the 
 leaves, startled Thrasyboulos. 
 
 "Our dogs must have scented game in those thick 
 
36 Andronike 
 
 shrubs," he said, leaping to his feet. "See how they wag 
 their tails." 
 
 The dogs of Andronike had thrust their heads into the 
 dense mass of fir-trees at the entrance of the forest. They 
 had scented Barthakas, whose sight and hearing nothing 
 escaped; but they recognized him and did not bark. As 
 soon as he realized that the attention of his rival was 
 directed upon the thicket, he plunged farther into the 
 woods. 
 
 One month after this oath the patriarch approved their 
 betrothal. Then, a month later, Thrasyboulos, in the 
 deepest grief, set out for Constantinople. There he be- 
 came a member of the Hetairia, followed a course of studies, 
 and a year later witnessed the frightful death of his 
 uncle. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 BARTHAKAS 
 
 Barthakas was from an ignoble Samian family. He 
 had studied a little at Smyrna, and then on a Greek wheat- 
 ship had sailed to Liverpool to make his fortune. Being 
 unsuccessful, he had left England on the same vessel. 
 While sailing round the coast of Messenia, he was ship- 
 wrecked. Afterward, wandering over the Peloponnesus, 
 he met the demogeront, who employed him as a teacher. 
 
 The little French, Italian, and German which he had 
 studied, and the still less English which he had picked up 
 at Liverpool, gave him such reputation in the neighbor- 
 hood that when English or French travellers arrived they 
 were always directed to him. 
 
 The demogeront and the other chiefs of the Pelopon- 
 nesus, the majority of whom could not write their own 
 language, considered him a man of the profoundest learn- 
 ing. Inasmuch as he related his marvellous adventures 
 with unblushing falsehood, all who heard him thought he 
 equalled the old man of the sea in wisdom. 
 
 Whatever he read he said he had seen. What he related 
 he told with so much confidence as to persuade himself 
 that he had seen it. Steamers did not exist. The Pelo- 
 
Barthakas 37 
 
 ponnesus had little communication with the world. Who 
 in that state of general ignorance was able to expose the 
 shameless charlatan, as he declared that at Manchester 
 he had watched a machine into which, if one threw his 
 shirt, it was at once converted into paper, was printed with 
 the writings of whatever author one wished, and then fell 
 from the other side of the machine a bound, gilt-edged 
 book ? In short , at the house of the demogeront Barthakas 
 enjoyed a comfortable income. Not only was he liberally 
 paid, but he received generous sums from travellers and 
 magistrates, for whom he wrote out various details or 
 reports to the local authorities. 
 
 Andronike alone was lacking to his happiness. This 
 prize might perhaps have been his, had not fate reversed 
 the position of affairs. The father of Andronike desired 
 to unite her to this graceless, deformed, but learned man. 
 Seeing, however, her manifest antipathy, he put off their 
 union, thinking that daily intercourse would accustom her 
 to him. 
 
 The teacher, loving her madly, and studying her ro- 
 mantic and upright disposition, in the absence of a rival 
 made slow but gradual progress. He was persuaded that 
 his pretended mildness and submission to all her wishes 
 and his silent and pensive ways would overcome her 
 repugnance. 
 
 The first jealous moments of an unloved lover, when he 
 sees another suddenly coming to rob him of what after a 
 long-continued struggle he hoped to win, are moments of 
 frenzy and madness. Into what a fiery furnace is his 
 breast not converted ? His mind is full of suspicion. 
 Every moment he becomes in intention guilty and criminal. 
 While a prey to harrowing anxiety, he forms vivid pictures 
 of the delights which at that very moment he fancies the 
 loved one and his rival are enjoying. If the jealous per- 
 son be virtuous, noble, and experienced, perhaps he tries 
 to conquer his affection and to control his sufferings. If, 
 however, he has a foul heart and believes he can attain the 
 longed-for object by falsehood and hypocrisy, then he is 
 capable of doing everything to prevent the happiness of 
 his rival or to take revenge on her whom he has so desper- 
 ately loved. 
 
 Unhappily the miserable teacher belonged to the second 
 class, Physiognomists always attribute to deformed and 
 
38 Andronike 
 
 distorted creations of nature an enlarged benevolence or 
 malevolence. Barthakas possessed the latter. 
 
 We resume our story at the time when with his own ears 
 he learned about the Hetairia, and heard the oath sworn 
 opposite the Styx, and saw the exchange of rings by the 
 lovers. 
 
 He returned to the tower in a state of mental and bodily 
 fever, and for days did not once leave his chamber. Sick- 
 ness again seized him when the formal betrothal took 
 place, nor did his convalescence begin until Thrasyboulos 
 was far from Arcadia. 
 
 On the third of March, 1821 , the following conversation 
 took place after dinner between the demogeront and the 
 teacher. 
 
 "Tell me, my wise man, you who have journeyed all 
 over the world," said the father of Andronike, with an 
 anxious face, " do you think that Russia will aid the in- 
 surrection ? Is there any hope of our being freed from the 
 Turks?" 
 
 "Hatch your eggs, my lord," answered Barthakas, 
 lighting a small pipe. " We will confess each other like 
 father and son. Let us see if we can save your neck." 
 
 "My neck!" 
 
 "Yes, my lord. Learn from my mouth that not only 
 your goods and mine, but that your head and mine and 
 that of the good Andronike, will to-morrow morning not be 
 in their places." 
 
 " What do you say ? " said the demogeront, springing up 
 in panic. 
 
 " Sit down ; sit down ; be patient. I have not begun my 
 story yet. You could not commit a greater folly, sir, than 
 betrothing your daughter to the nephew of the patriarch." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because on account of this relationship they will kill 
 us all to-morrow." 
 
 "No joking, teacher; but in truth I never saw your face 
 so full of fear." 
 
 " I told you yesterday about the Hetairia. I told you 
 that the patriarch is a member of it. Things are grow- 
 ing black. You know the Turks. They don't take words 
 or deeds into account. How many heads of prominent 
 people have they cut off at Constantinople! The big ships 
 are swamped in such a tempest j how then shall we sail our 
 
Barlhakas 39 
 
 little boats ? The Turk, as soon as the pasha relaxes the 
 reins a little, goes and lodges wherever he finds barley 
 for his horse and gold for himself. Have you not received 
 to-day an invitation to go to Tripolitsa, my lord ? " 
 
 "Yes," said the demogeront, in astonishment. "How 
 did you know it ? " 
 
 "We do not learn letters to eat straw," the teacher said 
 soberly. "Hear about the Turks of Tripolitsa. They 
 have pretended ignorance of the preparations of the Greeks. 
 Yet to-day they have imprisoned the archbishops of Chris- 
 tianopolis, Androusa, Corinth, Lacedsemon, Nauplia, Olene, 
 and Demetzana, and also all the demogeronts who met at 
 the capital of Peloponnesus in order to verify their 
 accounts. As this is not enough, they have summoned 
 Petro Bey to Tripolitsa. He pretended to be sick, and sent 
 his son Anastasios as hostage." 
 
 "It is true," said the demogeront, becoming pallid. 
 "Yon are a magician, teacher. All that you tell me I 
 know. Therefore I shall not go to Tripolitsa." 
 
 Concealing a laugh, the teacher drew a packet of letters 
 from his breast and added: "Listen to this sentence, which 
 the Eparch of Calavryta writes me : ' Tell our friend, the 
 demogeront Athanasiades, not to go to Tripolitsa, because 
 as soon as he arrives there the Turks will cut off his head 
 as a kinsman of the patriarch. ' " 
 
 The demogeront began to go over the packet of letters. 
 All were forgeries prepared beforehand by the foul -minded 
 teacher. In them he learned of various executions, which 
 had taken place in Constantinople before the death of the 
 patriarch. In order to cast his rope more securely around 
 the father of Andronike, Barthakas had forged a statement 
 that they likewise intended to imprison the patriarch and 
 Thrasyboulos, although at that time the Sublime Porte had 
 taken no decision and showed no suspicion against them. 
 
 "Then we are lost," said the demogeront. "In this 
 letter I read that to-morrow the Ottomans will come to 
 seize us. Tell me, my wise Barthakas, tell me, my only 
 friend, how can you and I and my beloved children be 
 saved?" 
 
 "What human being, my lord, can give counsel at such 
 a. time ? When a pack of wolves has once scented the 
 flock, then neither shepherd nor dogs nor shepherd's 
 crook is of use." 
 
40 Andro?iike 
 
 "Then no hope is left," said the demogeront, with quiv- 
 ering cheeks. "No hope is left! " 
 
 " I am racking my head for an idea, my lord. ' If one 
 has no candle, let him light what oil he has.' I would 
 give all my learning and my philosophy and my talents 
 for one small idea of safety," said the teacher, with a groan. 
 "But to my confusion and my shame as a Christian I 
 realize that I myself brought that hunter, that Thra- 
 syboulos into the tower. All our misfortunes to-day spring 
 from him." 
 
 " How is it your fault , my good man ? That came from 
 my bad luck. The world is so made that * God caresses a 
 man with one hand and beats him with the other.' I am 
 not thinking about money, but about our lives, about our 
 heads." 
 
 " Wait, my lord. The Panaghia loves you. I have an 
 idea! It is the only one that can save us." 
 
 "That can save us! Tell it quickly, you mine of 
 learning." 
 
 " It is somewhat hard for a father, but it is a choice of 
 evils. If you can act like a Eoman, that is, with the stern- 
 ness which I have told you the Eomans possessed, why, 
 then, we are saved." 
 
 " Come to the point, I beg. " 
 
 " Sing hallelujah ! Four things must be done this night 
 with the utmost speed. First, you must send a letter to 
 the pasha of Tripolitsa, stating that on account of your 
 health and age you resign the office of demogeront." 
 
 "Excellent." 
 
 " Second, send him a very valuable present, which will 
 both express your fidelity and aid your resignation." 
 
 "Admirable." 
 
 " Third and most important, before daybreak you must 
 marry Andronike to the first man you find, to show that 
 all connection with the patriarch has been broken off. 
 Fourth, after having in this way lulled the suspicions of 
 the Turks, you must in a few days get your property 
 together, get rid of your real estate, and then we will go 
 to Patras and sail from there to Marseilles." 
 
 "Solomon could not have given better advice," cried the 
 terrified demogeront; and beside himself with excitement, 
 he embraced the teacher, whose head hardly reached his 
 girdle. "It is all easy except the affair of Andronike." 
 
Barthakas 41 
 
 "That is the most difficult, the hardest of all. If, how- 
 ever, she is a good girl, she must sacrifice her personal 
 pleasure for the happiness of her father and brother. 
 Very likely the patriarch and her betrothed have been 
 already beheaded. If they are still alive, it is certain 
 that they have been deprived of their possessions and rank, 
 and have no longer any position. Therefore this connec- 
 tion amounts, my lord, to nothing. It is just the same 
 as if you had promised your daughter to the nephew of a 
 common priest." 
 
 "You are right," said the demogeront. "Shall I tell 
 you the truth ? I always had the intention, until this 
 relative of the patriarch appeared, to give you my daugh- 
 ter. In bestowing her upon a wise and virtuous man like 
 you, I know that, whatever may happen, my daughter will 
 not go hungry. You are the only person to whom to-night 
 I can marry Andronike." 
 
 The small eyes of the teacher opened to their fullest 
 extent. He stepped backward, and placing his hand upon 
 his heart, like those toy soldiers of lead which children 
 play with, he said, "1 marry Andronike! Never! " 
 
 " You do not wish to make me your father ? n 
 
 " But what other than you have I in the world ? " 
 
 " Then why do you refuse ? " 
 
 " In any other circumstance the proposition would fill 
 me with joy. But to-night, when I myself propose the 
 disappointment of your daughter's anticipated marriage! 
 For me myself to become her bridegroom! By Saint 
 George! Things are so turning upside down that I not 
 only encounter a great temptation but may also lose my 
 self-respect." 
 
 "Put the blame on me, my friend. If you hesitate, you 
 will make me believe that you love neither me nor 
 Andronike." 
 
 "Do not speak to me thus," said the wretch, with false 
 tears, embracing the demogeront. " You know whether I 
 love you or not. And Andronike! Andronike! She is the 
 rose which I have nurtured, watered, cared for, and pas- 
 sionately loved. I thought her almost mine. Suddenly 
 I saw that, instead of adorning my own life, she preferred 
 to adorn that of a prince. I did not complain or become 
 jealous or angry. She was fitter for a crown than for my 
 poor self. But now, when all things are changed and the 
 
42 Andronike 
 
 crown destroyed, what joy, what honor, that she should 
 come again to me ! If I seem to you still hesitating, there 
 is one other cause. Andronike herself. She has not a 
 particle of love for me." 
 
 "That is nothing. l Time converts the sea-plant into 
 coral, ? " said the demogeront. " I will send at once for the 
 priest of the nearest church." 
 
 " My lord, may you be blessed with a long life ! Before 
 you send, think over the matter a little more. Let us call 
 your son and tell him what we are discussing. If he 
 agrees, then we three will throw ourselves at the feet of 
 Andronike and entreat her to save us by this marriage." 
 
 The son of the demogeront was called in, and the in- 
 famous Barthakas pictured the danger in still livelier 
 colors. 
 
 Father, brother, and bridegroom agreed that, either by 
 persuasion or force, the marriage should take place before 
 dawn. 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE SCOURGED BRIDEGROOM 
 
 It was nearly midnight. Andronike in dejection had 
 gone to her chamber early. That very day she had re- 
 ceived a letter from Thrasyboulos, describing the entrance 
 of Alexander Ypsilantis into Wallachia and the insurrec- 
 tion of the Wallachians. He also gave her an alarming 
 picture of the condition of things at Constantinople. 
 
 The danger which her lover incurred at the Turkish 
 capital gave her far more anxiety than her own. That 
 evening, therefore, while Barthakas was entangling the 
 terrified demogeront in his cunning net, she in her chamber 
 was writing a full and pathetic letter to Thrasyboulos, 
 wherein she likewise described affairs in the Peloponnesus. 
 
 The tower in which she lived had been rebuilt from 
 unsightly ruins about ten years previously. It stood at 
 the entrance of an extended plain, under a steep hill which 
 protected it from the cold north wind. A wall had been 
 prolonged to enclose the garden, in which grew majestic 
 trees. This garden was cut from east to west by a brook, 
 
The Scourged Bridegroom 43 
 
 half hidden by thick green grass and reeds, dry during part 
 of summer but full of water in winter and spring. It 
 flowed under arches beneath the eastern and western wall, 
 and thence issued into the valley. 
 
 The tower formed a three-storied building, crowded 
 with a strange medley of Persian carpets, Venetian mirrors, 
 and Byzantine and Oriental furniture. The chamber of 
 Andronike was used also as a reception-room, as at that 
 time were most of the rooms in Greek and Turkish houses. 
 A spacious cupboard inside the wall, shut off by a door, 
 contained the mattresses and pillows which at night were 
 placed upon the floor and formed the bed. The walls 
 were hung with skins and costly weapons. 
 
 Andronike had unfastened her black hair, and was pre- 
 paring to undress, when her father, brother, and tutor 
 suddenly and unceremoniously burst in, and cast them- 
 selves at her feet, crying, " Save our lives ! " 
 
 " What is the matter ? " she exclaimed in astonishment. 
 
 " The Turks are going to hang all of us to-morrow ! " 
 
 "Who says so ? But get up, I beg you." 
 
 "Official letters announce it, and you are the cause. 
 Your connection with the patriarch has ruined us. To- 
 morrow the tower will be full of Turks ! " 
 
 " The mountains belong to us, my father ! Let us get 
 all our precious things together and hide them in the 
 ground. Let us take a few necessary things, and on the 
 mountains, where there are so many armatoli, let us wait 
 with our guns on our shoulders for the hour of safety. 
 Get up ! get up ! Teacher, what does this position mean % h 
 she cried with indignation. " At least tell me what you 
 are crying about! " The miserable Barthakas had covered 
 his face with his hands and pretended to weep. 
 
 "Ask me, my child," interrupted her father. "You are 
 a fool to say that we will run like klepts to the woods. 
 Can I, an old man, endure that sort of life ? Besides, I 
 should leave property, worth thousands of florins, in the 
 hands of the Turks. They would confiscate it, declaring 
 me a traitor to the sultan. No! That is not the way to 
 save us ! n 
 
 " Then what way is there ? Speak ! Rise, my father I 
 By the Panaghia, if you do not rise, I will throw myself 
 out of the window," she added, stepping toward one of the 
 windows. 
 
44 Andronike 
 
 " You must break off your engagement to Thrasyboulos ," 
 said her father, getting up. 
 
 "The Turks must know that all relations with the 
 patriarch have ceased," added her brother. 
 
 Andronike remained a few moments lost in consterna- 
 tion. Then, after a profound silence, she said, "Very 
 well. Announce to-morrow in the church that my engage- 
 ment to the nephew of the patriarch has been broken. 
 Thrasyboulos and I do not need an engagement to each 
 other to remain faithful." 
 
 " Mere words will make no impression upon the Turks. 
 To save our lives, and not for the sake of our property, 
 you must this day not only break off your engagement to 
 the nephew of the patriarch but marry some one else." 
 
 "Are you crazy, my father!" Then, with an insane 
 laugh, she cried, "I to give up my longed-for Thra- 
 syboulos ! " 
 
 " I am not sure, dearest one, that Thrasyboulos is still 
 alive," said the teacher, with pretended grief. "Both he 
 and the patriarch have been thrown into prison." 
 
 " What are you saying! Thrasyboulos in prison ! " mur- 
 mured the daughter of the demogeront. " A letter came 
 to me to-day from Thrasyboulos, telling me all that has 
 happened at Constantinople. Here it is. It is only seven 
 days old." 
 
 The teacher recoiled at the unexpected sight of the 
 letter. Nevertheless he said, with presence of mind, 
 " Would that my own were counterfeit ! The imprisonment 
 of the patriarch and Thrasyboulos has lain heavy on my 
 heart all day." 
 
 " Whether Thrasyboulos is in prison or not, my daugh- 
 ter, you must forget him. I do not speak as a father," said 
 the demogeront, raising his voice with affected sternness, 
 " but as a magistrate, impelled by my duty and by the oath 
 which I gave my master the sultan. You must marry 
 your wise and virtuous tutor. We have sent for the priest 
 to perform the ceremony." 
 
 Barthakas, through whom ran a thrill of alarm at these 
 pompous words of the demogeront, raised his clasped 
 hands to continue the scene, when Andronike cried with 
 anger and contempt : " Am I to marry this Thersites, this 
 Zaccheus ? I understand everything now. It is all an 
 intrigue of this scoundrel, Father, brother, don't you 
 
The Scourged Bridegroom 45 
 
 understand ? No one else has seen through this ourang- 
 outang so well as my Thrasyboulos. From the first moment 
 he saw you he knew that your soul was as crooked as your 
 body." 
 
 "Stop your shameless insolence," cried the demogeront, 
 with fury. "Don't be angry with her, my friend," he 
 added, turning to the teacher. " Love has made her blind, 
 and she does not know what she says." 
 
 "Do you think, my lord, that I shall be angry if this 
 angel abuses me ? By all the saints, I never saw my pupil 
 so beautiful as now." Then turning to the ineensed 
 Andronike, whose hair streamed over her shoulders and 
 breast, he continued with a smile : " Young lady, my calm- 
 ness at your insults shows that, if you plunged a sword 
 into my body, I should not feel angry with you. I know 
 that in body and face I resemble Thersites and Zaccheus. 
 I know it because, thank God, we have mirrors enough in 
 the tower. But that does not mean that my body does not 
 contain a soul which loves you madly, a soul which has 
 some virtue and which is stung at contempt. It is true 
 that I brought you up, and that my sympathy, or rather 
 my blameless love, increased as I saw you grow. But 
 heaven is my witness that I rejoiced at your betrothal with 
 Thrasyboulos. When I saw that you were to wed that 
 handsome and clever nephew of the patriarch, I stifled my 
 suffering like the philosopher I am, and rejoiced at your 
 fair destiny. I did not imagine that I had any claim to 
 you. To-day, when suddenly the master chose me to be 
 your husband, I refused." 
 
 " It is true. At first the wise man was unwilling to con- 
 sent," interrupted her father. "I compelled him, because 
 to-night this marriage must take place. It is the only 
 means of our escaping death. Is this the way, my daughter, 
 you love him who gave you life ? Can you not make this 
 small sacrifice to prolong my days ? Think what ruin you 
 are causing," continued the agitated father. 
 
 Andronike, perplexed by the hypocrisy of Barthakas and 
 the hopeless bearing of her father, remained silent and 
 overwhelmed. The teacher inferred that she had begun to 
 give way , and he began again more warmly : — 
 
 " Your father's plan for our safety does not contemplate 
 our remaining in Arcadia. This district is the centre of 
 Peloponnesus, and must become the centre of war. We 
 
46 Andronike 
 
 will go to Europe. There, young lady, you will under- 
 stand what the poor Zaccheus, the husband whom you will 
 choose, is worth. There men respect talents and learning, 
 and care little for size. There you will see yourself sur- 
 rounded by princes and grandees, for I may boast my inti- 
 mate relations with the principal personages of Europe. 
 Your beauty and your wit will make you the Aspasia of 
 Paris. They will more than admire you." 
 
 "Keep quiet, you accursed wretch! You are a worse 
 serpent than the one which deceived Eve. My father, if 
 this scene continues, I shall go mad. If I never saw 
 Thrasyboulos again, and if this fellow were the only man 
 in the world, I would rather hang myself than marry 
 him. 1 ' 
 
 " You shall not have your wish," cried the demogeront. 
 " Since kindness has no effect, force shall make you realize 
 our position. Call the priest," he added to his son. 
 " Come close to me, teacher. You shall see whether I will 
 have you married or not." 
 
 "My father! my father! Has the craft of this wretch 
 made you so drunk that you have not a particle of com- 
 passion?" cried Andronike, as her brother went out to call 
 the priest. 
 
 "What your father does, my darling Andronike, he 
 does for your good and for the good of us all. Marry me, 
 my beloved one, for form's sake merely, so the Turks may 
 hear your connection with the nephew of the patriarch is 
 broken and you shall never live with me as my wife. We 
 will convert our property into money and will flee from 
 the Peloponnesus. If I cannot win your heart in three 
 months, I promise you that then we will be divorced, and 
 that you shall marry Thrasyboulos if he is alive." 
 
 " Oh, you vile creature ! " cried Andronike, in frenzy. 
 Like lightning she sprang to the wall at the very moment 
 that the priest and her brother were entering, and took 
 down a gun with one hand and a whip with the other. 
 Springing back as quickly, she struck Barthakas a fearful 
 blow in the face, so that he fell writhing to the ground, 
 uttering a piercing shriek. 
 
 Turning to the others, she said, " Since you assert that 
 I am the cause of all your misfortune, I will this minute 
 put an end to my life and with this weapon deliver you." 
 
 " Stop ! stop ! " father, brother, and priest cried together. 
 
The Escape 47 
 
 "Stop, my daughter," said the priest, approaching her. 
 " I cannot marry you. I should commit a sacrilegious act, 
 gentlemen, if I married her by force. Therefore I bid 
 you good-night. As your confessor, I warn you to leave 
 this young woman in peace, for your own souls will be 
 punished forever if you force her to suicide." 
 
 Gradually her father and brother by solemn promises 
 succeeded in calming her. The teacher got up and up- 
 braided Andronike. Then he took all he had of value and 
 fled at once from the tower, declaring that he would not 
 remain another moment in that house, which on the mor- 
 row was to be the prey of the lawless Ottomans. But his 
 real reason for departure was his fear of the consequences 
 when his duplicity should be discovered. At the same 
 time he swore a deadly revenge upon her who had so inso- 
 lently spurned him. 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE ESCAPE 
 
 That same night the father, brother, and daughter, ter- 
 rified by the teacher's threats, concealed their most valua- 
 ble treasures in a safe place at a little distance from the 
 tower. They also sent rich presents to the Pasha of 
 Tripolitsa and a letter containing the resignation of the 
 demogeront. 
 
 When the day dawned, Andronike minutely questioned 
 her father upon the events of the past night, and unrav- 
 elled the plot of her teacher. 
 
 Ten days passed, and the inhabitants of the tower be- 
 came wholly reassured. The news from Constantinople 
 proved Barthakas a liar, and a very friendly reply arrived 
 from the Pasha of Tripolitsa. 
 
 On the fourteenth of March Andronike started for a walk 
 in the valley, when suddenly a mob of Albanian Laliots 
 appeared at the outer doors of the tower. At their head 
 was Barthakas, dressed like a Turk. 
 
 The unmanly teacher of Andronike had fled to this 
 thievish but warlike people, had become a Mussulman, 
 had inflamed their greed with accounts of the riches in the 
 
48 Andronike 
 
 tower, and had been able to put himself at the head of 
 about two hundred men. With them he came to carry off 
 the daughter of the demogeront. 
 
 The two dogs of Andronike were at once shot down. 
 The frightened demogeront unfortunately happened to be 
 in the garden. He was hurrying to the door of the tower 
 when, at the command of Barthakas, the bullet of one of 
 the Albanians stretched him dead. The brother of Andro- 
 nike, who was not far from his father, and the servants, 
 tried to defend themselves, but met the same fate. 
 
 Andronike witnessed the sudden death of her father and 
 brother. At first she tried to hide, but then remembered 
 that Barthakas was acquainted with every secret place in 
 the building. Meanwhile all the Laliots had entered the 
 garden and were advancing toward the tower. Seizing a 
 sword and pistol, she ran to escape by the small door at the 
 rear of the tower. The treacherous tutor, who had taken 
 every precaution, was watching there with three Albanians. 
 
 "Coward ! " cried Andronike, as soon as she saw him, and 
 discharged her pistol at him. The ball wounded the thigh 
 of an Albanian at his side. The three others fell upon her 
 with fury. Barthakas called out, " Take her alive, but do 
 not hurt her. Her ransom is two thousand florins." 
 Though the daughter of the demogeront was brave, the 
 contest could not last long. She was disarmed, and held 
 so tightly that she could not move. 
 
 "Kill me, wretch!" cried the unfortunate girl. "On 
 me alone you might have satisfied your revenge. "What 
 harm had my father and brother done you ? " 
 
 "It is useless to complain," replied Barthakas, with 
 indifference. " You caused all the trouble. I wanted to 
 marry you and then all of us escape together. Control 
 yourself! You will in time find in me husband, father, 
 brother, everything you have lost now." 
 
 " God, why does not the earth open and swallow him 
 up?" she cried again in anguish. "You who had on your 
 lips God, religion, duty!" 
 
 Barthakas gave a nervous laugh and shrugged his shoul- 
 ders. Then he turned to the men who held her, and, say- 
 ing, "Follow," led the way to the garden gate. 
 
 The horses of Aboukir Bey — such was the name Bar- 
 thakas had received on his conversion to Islam — were 
 waiting outside the garden, and his plan would infallibly 
 
The Escape 49 
 
 have succeeded had not divine Providence turned its wrath 
 upon him. 
 
 The crowd of wild Albanians came out of the tower just 
 as Andronike was captured. After careful search, not 
 having found the riches which Barthakas had promised, 
 they vented their anger on him. 
 
 "What lies have you told me, you dog! How much 
 time have we thrown away ! " cried their infuriated chief, 
 cutting off their retreat. "Not ten piastres have we 
 found ; not enough to pay for our powder." Then casting a 
 glance at the closely guarded Andronike, he shouted: 
 " Why ! That is the daughter of the demogeront. I will 
 take her myself!" Aiming his long gun at the teacher, 
 he said, " Let that woman go ; " and he added to the Alba- 
 nians who still held her, "Let her alone." 
 
 Barthakas saw himself by the same stroke of fortune 
 thrust not only outside his paradise but on the edge of a 
 frightful abyss. 
 
 A desperate plan flashed like lightning through the brain 
 of Andronike. "Captain," she cried boldly and with 
 presence of mind to the robber-chief, " I would a thousand 
 times rather become your wife than that of this scoundrel. 
 My father took him a beggar into our house. He made 
 him rich; but since I would not marry him, he ran away 
 and brought you to kill his benefactors. My father was 
 afraid something would happen, so a few days ago he hid 
 his treasures in the ground. I will show you where they 
 are and become your wife if you will rescue me from the 
 hands of this devil." 
 
 "You want me for your husband," said the Laliot chief, 
 in his coarse voice, "and you want the life of this fellow. 
 Get down," he said, approaching Barthakas and drawing 
 his scimetar, "and I will knock your head off with my 
 sword." 
 
 The cowardly Barthakas was convulsed with terror. 
 The gigantic Albanian gave the teacher a vigorous blow 
 with his fist to make him kneel down; but the latter 
 thought himself struck by the fatal sword and fell insen- 
 sible to the earth, rousing the derision of the ferocious 
 spectators. 
 
 "Do not kill him, captain, until I show you the treas- 
 ures of my father," said Andronike. "Follow me," she 
 added. Taking the lead, she brought them to the opposite 
 
 4 
 
50 Andronike 
 
 end of the garden, not far from the brook which intersected 
 the grounds of the tower, where, being commanded by the 
 hill on the north, the walls were thick and very high. This 
 part of the ground was covered with heaps of rubbish and 
 refuse, which had been thrown there from time to time. 
 
 "Under there," she said boldly, "are hidden one hun- 
 dred thousand florins and many precious stones. They 
 are buried deep. They are in boxes, and I will bring you 
 the keys, which we hid behind that tree ; " and she pointed 
 to a majestic sycamore near the banks of the brook. 
 
 The robbers began to dig with their hands, weapons, and 
 any tool they could find. They burrowed like dogs at the 
 mouth of a rabbit-hole. No suspicion that Andronike would 
 try to escape passed through their minds, as on that side 
 there was no gate and the walls were very high and inac- 
 cessible without ladders. 
 
 The young woman approached the sycamore with the 
 courage of despair. She passed behind, and noticed that 
 the thick trunk of the tree concealed her from the eyes of 
 the crowd. Noiselessly she glided like an eel into the 
 water of the brook, which during that month was very 
 deep. It was rapid, and covered, as we have said, with 
 grass and reeds. It fell with the noise of a tiny cataract 
 into the valley on passing from under the pointed arch. 
 Since at that period the flood had hidden the arch, it re- 
 sembled a marshy bed of floating weeds. Diving to the 
 bottom and holding her breath almost to suffocation, she 
 passed the arch and issued outside the wall and the garden. 
 Then she fell with a splash into the river Erymanthus. 
 Her fall caused a frightful dizziness like a blow on the 
 face. Soon the memory of Thrasyboulos and of all that 
 had happened recalled her strength, and she climbed out 
 from the river. Quickly she removed the greater part of 
 her drenched clothing, pressed the water from her shoes, 
 and hurried to reach the foot of the Bugged Mountain. 
 
 She argued, first, that the Albanians would not at once 
 suspect that she had passed outside the walls; therefore 
 they would seek her inside, and hence allow her time to 
 escape; second, perhaps they would think that in her 
 despair she had drowned herself; third, if they did dis- 
 cover that she had fled, it would be impossible for them 
 to climb the high walls without ladders and pursue. If 
 they went out by the garden and principal gate and so 
 
The Hermit of Saint Elias 51 
 
 reached the opposite side of the river, they would be 
 obliged to traverse a considerable distance before arriving 
 at the bridge; finally, should the Albanians follow her 
 example and enter the stream to give chase, their heavy 
 clothing would impede them, and besides their guns would 
 become wet and useless. 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE HERMIT OF SAINT ELIAS 
 
 Andronike ran with all her might for a long distance, 
 without once turning her head to see if she were pursued. 
 Not till reaching the foot of the mountain opposite did she 
 stop to take breath ; then she looked back and saw the 
 tower enveloped with smoke and flames. 
 
 She could see no one coming after her. Little by little 
 her fear subsided, but the recollection of her father's and 
 brother's tragic death became still more vivid. The reali- 
 zation of her affliction crowded upon her with full force. At 
 the sense of her loneliness a cry burst from her, which 
 echoed in the solitude : " I am left an orphan ! In the 
 whole world I have only Thrasyboulos. Help us, O God, 
 to meet again ! " 
 
 At the sound of her voice a great eagle flew up with flap- 
 ping wings. It alighted on a bald and solitary rock close 
 by. Never had morbid terror so filled her heart as at that 
 moment. Her nervous system was all unstrung, and at the 
 slightest noise she was ready to believe herself again in the 
 hands of the .Albanians. 
 
 As soon as the bird flew away, she recalled how often 
 she had wandered over the mountains. But then she had 
 arms and suitable clothing, with her two fierce dogs as 
 protectors ; now, half-naked, defenceless, without food, she 
 was at the mercy of the wild beasts. 
 
 The lofty pine-clad tops of Menalos, the centre of the 
 mountain system of Arcadia, Laconia, and Argolis, were 
 already obscured in the thick shades of night. She hur- 
 riedly climbed the hill near the village of Lycouresi, at the 
 top of which then rose and still rises to-day the little chapel 
 of Saint Elias. 
 
52 Andronike 
 
 It was then inhabited by a very aged and infirm hermit, 
 whom she knew and to whom in other days she had often 
 brought food and clothing. She knocked at the cell of the 
 monk. 
 
 " Who is there ? " asked the old man, coming with a 
 candle to the door. 
 
 "An unhappy woman who entreats the compassion of 
 Saint Elias." 
 
 The old man opened the door, but, seeing the unveiled 
 face of Andronike, he imagined that the devil had assumed 
 a mortal form to trouble him ; so he cried, " Get behind me, 
 Satan," and spat on his breast. 
 
 " Do you not recognize me, father ? I am the daughter 
 of the demogeront Athanasiades. It is not the devil of the 
 Bible who has reduced me to this condition. It is a human 
 devil worse than Satan. He led the Turks to the tower, 
 and they killed my father and my brother." 
 
 The old man recognized the shepherd girl, who had often 
 visited him with Thrasyboulos. Placing the candle on the 
 table, he went for a wrap, which he threw upon the 
 shoulders of the girl, as she sat crouching on the ground. 
 Then he brought her something to eat, and with intense 
 sympathy listened to her tale. 
 
 "The fog is thickest, my daughter, just before light 
 comes," said the old man, shaking his snowy head. " Just 
 so it is with Greece. Slavery and fanaticism have become 
 so dense that we must expect the light of liberty to drive 
 them away. A courier passed by here to-night for Patras. 
 He carries the news that the priests and demogeronts have 
 been imprisoned at Tripolitsa. Alexander Ypsilantis has 
 crossed the Pruth and has raised an insurrection in Moldo- 
 Wallachia. In all the districts of the Peloponnesus nothing 
 is heard but the word 'Hetairia.' This will be the third 
 attempt to break the chains of slavery. Yet I fear that, 
 before I die, I shall witness more tragic scenes than those 
 of 1769 and 1791." 
 
 " Do you remember the insurrection of 1769 ? " asked 
 Andronike. " Can you tell me where the Turks slaughtered 
 most, — in Constantinople or in the Morea ? " 
 
 " In which did they not ? Constantinople suffered most, 
 for it was nearer the padishah. But, my daughter, why 
 are you so anxious about that ? " 
 
 "Father, my betrothed, my noble Thrasyboulos, that 
 
The Hermit of Saint Elias 53 
 
 young man who came with me so often to your cell, the 
 only person left me on earth, is now at Constantinople. He 
 is a nephew of the patriarch Gregory. Do you think it 
 probable that he and the patriarch will be maltreated ? " 
 
 "Perhaps the Lord will for once have compassion on the 
 Greeks," said the old man, after a slight hesitation. " Per- 
 haps he will blind the barbarians, and Christians may succeed 
 in escaping from their clutches." 
 
 " Oh, father, I feel a presentiment that now I am going to 
 lose the only one I have in this world," said Andronike. 
 
 " Your wof ul state makes you have this presentiment. 
 What the Lord has foreordained for your lover, he has 
 written in heaven and not in your heart or mine. Count- 
 less such presentiments I have myself had in my long 
 life of ninety-three years, but none has ever been realized. 
 Take heart and hope and pray to God, and he will have 
 compassion on you." 
 
 " Was the insurrection of 1769 very bloody, father ? 
 Were there then as many murders as have already begun 
 in all the cities of Greece ? " 
 
 " You ask me a question, my daughter, which to answer 
 clearty will compel me to tell you how this beard of mine 
 first became white. But you and your betrothed are young, 
 and my joy at the prospect of this insurrection is immense, 
 so I am going to give some details whereby you may have 
 an idea of your country and of the foes with whom you 
 have to fight to-day." 
 
 The old man lit a coarse candle, sat down opposite 
 Andronike, and began as follows: "The history of Greece 
 since it was subjugated by the Ottomans, although written 
 by many Europeans, is a chaos into which the mind finds 
 it impossible to enter. The outer world is only superficially 
 acquainted with the misdeeds of the Ottoman government. 
 But we, who have learned the truth from our fathers' 
 lips, know more about the outrages and crimes of our 
 conquerors. 
 
 " It is possible, my daughter, that you have run across 
 my name in some corner of history. I am called Papazo- 
 glou, and I was born in Thessaly at Larissa. I served a 
 number of years in the Russian artillery with that noble 
 and brave general of Catherine II, Gregory Orloff, with 
 whom also I became intimate. 
 
 " Realizing his influence over Catherine, whom he had 
 
54 Andronike 
 
 assisted in dethroning Peter III, — an influence which made 
 her build palaces in his honor and strike medals with the 
 device, ' Such sons Russia brings forth/ — I entreated him 
 to persuade his mighty sovereign to assist the Greeks in 
 breaking their chains. My prayer was heard. In 1766 I 
 was ordered by Russia to go to the Peloponnesus with 
 various presents for the churches. 
 
 " Alexis and Theodore Orloff, brothers of Gregory, cruised 
 round the maritime cities of Italy to open communication 
 with the Greek merchants who resided there. 
 
 "When Sultan Moustapha III declared war against 
 Russia at the instigation of France in behalf of the Poles, 
 Catherine was able openly to send assistance to the insur- 
 rection of Greece. We came and captured Mistra. There 
 we set up a provisional Greek government. But since 
 Russia sent insufficient forces, hordes of Albanians poured 
 into the Peloponnesus, defeated the Greeks, and put them 
 to death. 
 
 "Patras and Tripolitsa saw the bloodiest scenes. The 
 latter became the graveyard of about three thousand 
 persons. 
 
 " Alexis Orloff besieged Corone, but he was incapable, 
 and being totally unsuccessful withdrew to Navarino. 
 
 u This crest of Saint Elias then became our refuge. 
 From this little chapel we resisted the attack of about three 
 hundred Turkish soldiers, and we repulsed them twice. 
 The third time they advanced as far as this point and 
 pressed us harder and harder. Christ was with us. We 
 drove them as far as the precipice, which rises in that 
 direction, and tumbled them down the rocks. 
 
 " Then I left the hill and hurried to Navarino to embark 
 on the Russian fleet, but on the way I was made prisoner 
 and carried to Constantinople. Nobody recognized me. 
 According to common report I had fallen in battle, though 
 some persons said that I was safe on the Russian ships. 
 Had the Turks known who I was, they would have flayed 
 me alive. 
 
 " Meanwhile the Ottoman government, to revenge itself 
 on me, wreaked its fury on Larissa, my birthplace. Un- 
 fortunately the demon of discord had divided the citizens 
 into two parties, that of Demakis and that of Triccaios. As 
 each made complaints against the other to the governor of 
 the city, one day he ordered each leader to bring as many 
 
The Hermit of Saint Elias 55 
 
 of his followers as he could to the court, so that he might 
 make an examination and find out who was in the wrong. 
 More than three thousand men assembled in the great 
 courtyard of the palace of justice, some shouting for 
 Demakis and some for Triccaios. The bloodthirsty gover- 
 nor had followed the maxim of Alaric, that where the grass 
 is thickest, it is easiest to cut. Firearms and the sword 
 began their work at once on the innocent citizens. All 
 who escaped from the court were butchered in the streets. 
 So many were slaughtered that the river Peneus was red 
 with blood." 
 
 The old man could not keep back his tears. He trembled 
 with impotent rage as he narrated the massacre of March 9, 
 1770. Finally he added, — 
 
 " After my escape from prison I went to Tenedos and 
 thence to Peloponnesus. I hoped to return to Russia, but 
 circumstances kept me always in Greece." 
 
 "How many years, father, have you been an inmate of 
 this chapel ? " 
 
 " As many as a babe needs to become a man, or a priest 
 to forget his life in the world. I came to this chapel thirty 
 years ago." 
 
 " Go on, go on, my father. Your words for a moment 
 carry me away from myself." 
 
 " After the failure of the insurrection of 1769 the yoke 
 became even heavier. The Ottomans were afraid that the 
 Greeks would a second time shake their chains, and they 
 drew the fetters tighter. They imposed severer taxes, 
 robbed more mercilessly, and compelled us like African 
 slaves to satisfy their desires. Life in the plains was un- 
 endurable, and our young men took themselves to the 
 mountains. Thus the famous klepts of Greece were de- 
 veloped, and to them is due the present effort after liberty. 
 Organized in bands, they enabled the inhabitants of the 
 cities to enjoy some tranquillity. Finally the klepts adopted 
 a more flattering name. Each leader was a ' capitanos,' 
 each soldier a ' pallikari/ and they were all called ' arma- 
 toli.' Each Greek mountain became the habitation of 
 these wild and restless warriors, who, following the customs 
 of their ancestors, checked the outrages of the Turks, and 
 boasted that they never paid them tribute. 
 
 " The patriotic songs of Rhegas were then beginning to 
 reach Ossa and Olympus. Not only did the klepts sing 
 
56 Andronike 
 
 his words, but his tales, his dramas, his songs, expressed in 
 the dialect of the common people, have had a vast share in 
 the uprising of our day. 
 
 "When I was about sixty years of age, I resolved to 
 abandon a worldly life, from which up to that time I had 
 never gained anything but disappointment and chagrin. 
 So I came here to Saint Elias, to the spot where first I had 
 fought for freedom, and I became a hermit in hope of par- 
 don for my sins. I have buried with these hands all the 
 monks who were here before me, and last February I com- 
 pleted the thirtieth year of my sojourn here. All my life, 
 my daughter, up to yesterday appeared to me as an ill- 
 remembered dream. Yet, as soon as the cry of liberty 
 again fell upon my ear, imagination, memory, all my 
 bodily powers, were restored. Let me live to see the resur- 
 rection of my Greece and then let me die. My death will be 
 sweeter than that of the aged Diagoros, who died of joy at 
 the Olympian games on seeing the victory of his sons. 
 
 " I have given you my personal history to-night only for 
 two reasons : first, because my joy at seeing the dream 
 of my life realized in the present insurrection is more than 
 I can bear and I must speak and tell my story or I shall 
 die. Second, I have told you these things to show you 
 that, if God ordains your betrothed to live, death cannot 
 touch him. How many times I myself escaped death ! If 
 He has appointed him to die, the evil is not great. There 
 is another kingdom, which is not far from this, which is 
 eternal, and in which all men shall meet. Show yourself 
 like an ancient Greek maiden, ready to sacrifice father, 
 brother, husband, every one whom you love, for your 
 country." 
 
 " You have poured balm on my wounds, my confessor," 
 said Andronike, breathing more freely. " So may it be! 
 Let Greece be delivered, even if we all die ! n Soon the 
 stricken girl withdrew to a corner of the chapel, seeking to 
 forget her sorrows in sleep. 
 
The Sixth of April, 1821 57 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE SIXTH OF APRIL, 1821 
 
 Andronike's place of refuge was not safe. The summit 
 of Saint Elias was a natural fortress, and so advantageous 
 a position was sure to be contended for by Greeks and 
 Turks as soon as the war began. So, following the advice 
 of the hermit, on the next day she departed. Just before 
 she bade him good-by, a courier passed, carrying to Patras 
 the news of the destruction of the tower and the death of 
 the demogeront. He also stated that the Laliots had gone 
 to Demetzana. 
 
 Barthakas, after the escape of Andronike, led the Laliots 
 to that city, apparently believing that Andronike had taken 
 refuge with the kindred of Thrasyboulos. 
 
 The next night she reached the spot where the valuables 
 of the demogeront were buried, and from which she expected 
 to obtain money, arms, and clothing, and then to set out 
 for Patras. Thence by sea, if possible, she would start to 
 Constantinople to her lover. She found the treasures safe 
 in their place of concealment, though nothing was left of 
 the tower except the main walls. She took out a suit of 
 man's clothing, embroidered in gold, put it on, and con- 
 tinued her journey. 
 
 The effendi or gentleman, into whom the maiden had 
 been thus transformed, deserves special description. 
 
 The jacket was of purple velvet, embroidered with flowers 
 and bosses in gold thread. All the minor articles, belt, 
 leggings, garters, were of the same material. Prom her 
 waist hung the snowy fustanella with its countless folds. 
 On her head was a high fez, drooping over the right ear, 
 with a deep-blue tassel fastened with a golden buckle. A 
 brace of pistols, a yataghan, and a dirk, all mounted in gold 
 and silver, were attached to the belt. On the shoulder was 
 carried a long gun, inlaid with silver. 
 
 If Andronike had found a less striking costume among 
 the treasures of her father, she would have preferred it, 
 but only their most precious things had been concealed. 
 But many other armed gentlemen of the day dressed with 
 the same magnificence. In fact, all had certain resemblance 
 
58 Andronike 
 
 to the heroes of the Iliad, the moderns being more arrogant 
 and always pretending that they had taken their gilded and 
 splendid arms as booty from the pashas and beys whom 
 they had slain. 
 
 The height of Andronike, unusual for a woman, was no 
 more than ordinary, after her transformation into a young 
 man. Her figure would have delighted any painter as his 
 model. No longer showing timidity, she now set out on 
 her journey like a bold warrior, inspired by faith and 
 love. 
 
 Near daybreak she entered the little village of Thoa, 
 built on the ruins of Pallantion, from which tradition 
 asserts Evandros removed his dwelling-place to the Tiber. 
 This obscure hamlet occupies the spot where the so-called 
 mother of Rome once stood. 
 
 The villagers surrounded the richly dressed effendi. 
 Greece was then in such a condition that every one had 
 to be cautious in what he said and did. As yet nobody 
 knew who were real patriots and who were Ottoman spies. 
 A man's life was sometimes endangered by a chance word. 
 Andronike, like everybody else, had to conform to circum- 
 stances, and often let the truth slumber. 
 
 " Where do you come from, my dainty gilded gentle- 
 man ? " she was asked by a tall, elderly, sun-burned Pelo- 
 ponnesian, armed to the teeth, who strode toward her 
 through the crowd. 
 
 "From where they speak your language and believe in 
 your religion," she answered boldly. 
 
 " Bravo, my pallikari ! Kindly tell me your name." 
 
 " Andronikos." 
 
 "Andronikos, — that is a Christian name. You belong 
 to us then. Where are you going?" 
 
 "Where the air bears the birds, and good fortune the 
 heroes," she replied, complacently touching her pistols. 
 
 "Bravo, my fine gentleman, bravo ! I see you are brave. 
 But you are wrong to travel over wild places all alone and 
 wearing such costly things." 
 
 " I am not alone. I have some brave fellows at a little 
 distance. I came here on purpose to get ten pallikaris. 
 They say that in your village the men know how to shoot. 
 I will give twenty piastres and bread to whoever will 
 follow me to Patras." 
 
 " Take me," many of the bystanders shouted. 
 
The Sixth of April, 1821 59 
 
 " Wait a little, gentlemen. Effendi, before you hire any 
 of our pallikaris, tell us whether you fight for the Greeks 
 or the Turks." 
 
 " That is my own affair. If any one does not like the 
 place where I take him, let him point his gun at me," she 
 said, stroking her upper lip with her left hand as a man 
 does his moustache. 
 
 "Ah, effendi, you have pluck," said the old armatolos, 
 admiringly. " You are a captain who has smelt powder. I 
 have grown old myself fighting on the tops of the mountains. 
 I have been an armatolos for forty years, but if you like, 
 I will go with you." 
 
 " I will tell you how I shall choose my pallikaris," said 
 Andronike. " I shall put up a mark eighty paces distant. 
 Whoever shoots better than I is my man." 
 
 " The mark ! The mark ! " cried the armed men, and 
 they set up a splinter of white marble. 
 
 Andronike, like a confidant hussar, shifted her talagani 
 to the left, and pressed firmly the concave butt of her gun 
 against her right shoulder. Then she pulled the trigger. 
 
 " Panaghia ! " they all shouted. " He has hit it in the 
 middle." 
 
 The old armatolos came next to the shot of Andronike, 
 though the others were not far behind. 
 
 "We must be your servants, effendi," said the armatolos. 
 "You can hit a hair with a ball. You must have been 
 planting balls all the years of your life," he added. 
 
 Andronike chose ten pallikaris to accompany her to 
 Patras. By her confident air she inspired obedience and 
 respect. She placed the old armatolos, named Lampros, at 
 the head of the troop. After they had breakfasted they 
 began their march. 
 
 In a few days they reached the Ladon, the river in which 
 Hercules captured the Arcadian stag. On April second 
 they climbed the lofty and glittering mountains of Eryman- 
 thus, where Hercules slew the Erymanthian boar. One 
 branch of the Erymanthus bounds on the east the Cyllenian 
 mountains, where Hermes was born, and another branch on 
 the west the mountains of Olenos and Pholoe. 
 
 This mythology-haunted mountain range forms the defi- 
 nite boundary of Arcadia, Elis, and Achaia. 
 
 There they encamped that night. Whoever knew well 
 the ancient world could not gaze from that splendid out- 
 
60 Andronike 
 
 look without emotion. All Grecian history seemed spread 
 out below. In front was Elis with Olympia, and the river 
 Alphgeus under its modern name of Roufias. Not far away 
 was the robber tower of Lala, whose inhabitants had brought 
 such ruin on her family. On the other side was Achaia, 
 the last torch-bearer of Greece, the country of Aratos 
 and Philopoemen. There was the plain where the Roman 
 Mummius buried Greece for twenty centuries. 
 
 Three couriers passed by, one after the other. The first 
 covered the route from Patras to Tripolitsa, which was then 
 the capital of the Morea. The second was going from 
 Tripolitsa to Patras, and the third from Calavryta to the 
 same city. The first brought news that the Turks, scent- 
 ing the insurrection of the Greeks, had begun to plunder 
 the houses of Patras. The second, that the general Colo- 
 cotronis and Mavromichalis, Prince of Mana, with his 
 brother Kyriacoulis and his son Elias and many other 
 leaders, at the head of an army of about five thousand men, 
 were marching to surprise the Turks of Calamata. The 
 third, that the Greeks had already fallen upon the Turks 
 at Calamata and beaten them. 
 
 Andronike did not know which road to take. Patras 
 was already the scene of war. She could not return, for 
 behind her the conflagration was even fiercer. She con- 
 tinued therefore toward Patras, for two-thirds of its twenty 
 thousand inhabitants were Christians. 
 
 On the sixth of April, Annunciation Sunday, the day 
 appointed by the Philike Etairia as the birthday of the 
 Greek revolution, while descending the mountains, she 
 came upon Germanos, Archbishop of Patras, the generals 
 Lontos and Za'imis, and a great multitude of Greeks, who 
 were raising the flag of liberty. 
 
 The spectacle was awe-inspiring and dramatic. 
 
 The bishop was not aged, hoary-headed, and infirm like 
 the patriarch Gregory and the archbishops at Constanti- 
 nople, but a robust man with broad, square shoulders, 
 thick dark beard and moustache, fiery eyes and warlike 
 countenance, lit by the fire of freedom. He stood, wear- 
 ing his episcopal robes with the gold cross on his breast, 
 one hand extended toward heaven and the other toward 
 the standard of the cross. He was not only a priest but 
 also a mighty orator in the midst of the Achaians, who 
 were bidding farewell to their wives, embracing their chil- 
 
The Meeting 61 
 
 dren, and madly trampling the horse-tails of the barbarians 
 under their feet. 
 
 On that same soil of Achaia, where centuries before un- 
 happy Greece was enslaved, this priestly general on a day 
 which the tiny kingdom of Greece annually commemorates, 
 preached thus to his people : — 
 
 " Greeks ! the yoke of slavery has become unendurable. 
 Rise and demand your rights ! All the Christian powers 
 will recognize the justice of your cause. Not only will 
 they remove obstacles from your way, but will themselves 
 assist you, remembering what your ancestors have done for 
 humanity. Greeks ! appear not inferior to your fathers ! " 
 
 " Liberty or death ! " shouted they all. They clashed 
 their arms, and with tears embraced their standard. 
 
 In the narrow streets of Patras they came into collision 
 with the Turks. They defeated them, and drove them to 
 the citadel. The archbishop Germanos and his generals 
 now began the regular siege. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE MEETING 
 
 On this same sixth of April Petro Bey, Prince of Mana, 
 his son Elias, his brother Kyriacoulis, and three volunteer 
 leaders attacked Calamata in Messenia and forced the Turks 
 to surrender. On the banks of the river Pamisos they 
 chanted their first Te Deum to the Most High for a victory 
 in the field. 
 
 In a few days Navarino, Methone, and Corone were 
 attacked by the Messenians. The fortress of Monemvasia 
 was besieged by land by Constantine Mavromichalis, and 
 by sea by that famous amazon, Lascar ina Vouvoulina. 
 Nauplia was invested by Zacharias, and the Acrocorinthos 
 by the brothers Notaras. The captains Georgios, Tzongas, 
 Valtinos, and Macrys slew the Turks in Acarnania and 
 ^Etolia, destroyed their mosques, and raised the flag of 
 freedom. The inhabitants of Attica beat the Turks at 
 Marathon, where once Miltiades had conquered the Persians 
 and shut up their enemies in the Acropolis. 
 
62 Andronike 
 
 The glorious Diakos, formerly a deacon, but compelled 
 by Ali Pasha to become an armatolos, was rousing Boeotia ; 
 Odysseus and Gouras were moving Phocis, Locris, and Doris ; 
 Alexander Ypsilantis, the Servians and Bulgarians ; Em- 
 manuel Pappas, Cassandra ; and Markos Botsaris, the 
 Suliots. 
 
 The islands of the iEgean Sea, Spezzia, Hydra, Psara, 
 Euboea, and Samos, took up arms. Ali Pasha, the hyena 
 of Epirus, verifying the proverb that the wolf loves a hurri- 
 cane, himself made war on the sultan. 
 
 The mighty empire of Turkey saw its existence hanging 
 on a hair. The sultan realized that his life was menaced 
 even upon his own throne by the still more dangerous 
 forces of the janissaries. 
 
 Andronike joined the troops which were besieging the 
 citadel of Patras. All hope of reaching Constantinople 
 either by sea or by land was taken away. Besides the 
 general enthusiasm, the frequent successes of the Greeks, 
 the persuasion that this laurel-bringing struggle would not 
 long continue, that Greece would be recognized as an inde- 
 pendent state, and that from every quarter men would take 
 up their abode in it, caused her to wait for directions from 
 Thrasyboulos, to whom from the heights of Erymanthus 
 she had written her misfortunes in detail. 
 
 Meanwhile the news reached Patras that the warlike 
 Laliots four thousand strong had marched to assist the 
 Turks in Tripolitsa, but had been attacked in the defiles 
 and terribly defeated. These terrible Albanians, the scourge 
 of the Peloponnesus, the very people who had destroyed the 
 tower of Andronike, in great numbers sought to flee after 
 their defeat to the citadel of Patras. 
 
 Let us conduct our reader to the tents of the besiegers. 
 
 It was evening. The archbishop Germanos and his 
 officers were discussing the mine which they had begun to 
 dig whereby they hoped to enter the citadel. Suddenly 
 piercing cries were heard at the outposts. One of the 
 guards brought word that they had captured a small 
 deformed Ottoman, who was stealthily creeping from one 
 of the gates of the citadel, and that he begged them not to 
 hurt him, claiming to be a Christian. 
 
 " Bring him here and we will examine him/' said General 
 Lontos. 
 
 Shortly afterwards the wretched Barthakas, covered with 
 
The Meeting 63 
 
 rags and emaciated by the famine of the siege, was brought 
 in by stalwart pallikaris. At once all burst into laughter 
 at his appearance. 
 
 Andronike started violently, and sought a pretext to go 
 out before she should be recognized by her tutor. 
 
 "Are you a Turk or a Christian ? " one of the bystanders 
 asked. 
 
 " For God's sake, do not kill me," said Barthakas, trem- 
 bling, for he supposed that armed company to be a court 
 martial. 
 
 "Do not be afraid," replied Lontos. "The Greeks kill 
 only on the field of battle. In their tents they act the part 
 of hosts. If you were a Greek, you would know this." 
 
 " I do know it and I am a Greek, my lord, but from fear 
 and confusion often the tongue does not know what it says. 
 My name is Barthakas. I was the professor of the children 
 of the demogeront Athanasiades, and on my way to Patras 
 was captured by the Laliots. I had either to die or become 
 a Turk. I have lived in Europe many years. I am master 
 of five languages, and I have a good deal of learning. 
 Mithridates became Mithridates the Great only because he 
 knew many languages. I saw my country getting ready, 
 and I said to myself, ' Greece has many pallikaris, but only a 
 few learned men. If I let the Turks kill me, the father- 
 land will lose one valuable arm. If I become a Turk as to 
 the body, still keeping Christ in my soul, I will at the very 
 first opportunity profess him again with my lips.' So I was 
 named Aboukir Bey. That is my history." 
 
 The name of Barthakas was more widely known in the 
 Peloponnesus than that of the demogeront. At once there- 
 fore the tutor was heartily welcomed, and treated with both 
 affection and respect. All the domestic and foreign corre- 
 spondence of the officers was intrusted to him. Far from 
 suspecting his crimes, some began to tell him about the 
 destruction of the tower and the murder of the demogeront 
 and his children. 
 
 " Alas ! alas ! Nothing more terrible ever happened. 
 If you knew how persevering and beautiful my pupil An- 
 dronike was, your grief would be as great as mine." Turn- 
 ing his head as if her figure were alive before him, his little 
 eyes encountered the great, flaming orbs of the splendidly 
 dressed and handsome captain, under whose form his pupil 
 was disguised. The face of Andronike affected him like 
 the head of Medusa. 
 
64 Andronike 
 
 She was half crazy with indignation and anxiety, and yet 
 at the same time was compelled to listen without being able 
 to utter a word in reply. 
 
 Barthakas came to himself, recognizing the advantages of 
 his position. His clipped feathers at once expanded into 
 wings of imagination. All that evening he entertained the 
 company with myths and anecdotes and travels. He boasted 
 of the dukes, princes, and sovereigns whom he knew, and 
 promised those brave and hardy but simple and ignorant 
 men to solicit the European potentates to come to their aid. 
 
 Andronike saw herself on the deck of a sinking ship. If 
 she confessed that she was a woman, neither her courage 
 nor virtue could protect her in the midst of that turbulent 
 host. Without reflecting further, as soon as the company 
 broke up and Barthakas withdrew to the place assigned 
 him, she presented herself before him. 
 
 " Do you recognize me ? " she asked, surveying him from 
 head to foot with contempt. 
 
 "I recognize you exceedingly well, young lady," he 
 replied, looking toward the entrance of the room. 
 
 " You caused the death of my father and brother, and in 
 spite of that I can forgive you, for I stopped the sword of 
 the Laliot leader. He wanted to cut your head off, do you 
 remember ? The manner in which you pretended ignorance 
 of those frightful events of which you were the cause, makes 
 me realize that you hesitate at nothing. My evil fortune 
 has brought you again before me. If you betray who I am, 
 you place me in a dreadful position. I came therefore to 
 say that I am disguised in these clothes until I receive 
 word from Thrasyboulos telling me where to go. If you 
 keep silent, I will pass over everything. I will even forgive 
 you and I will pay you well. If you betray me, there is 
 one death for me and two for you. I have written every- 
 thing to Thrasyboulos, and he and I will pursue you to the 
 tomb. You understand my character well enough. You 
 know whether I am capable of doing what I say or not." 
 
 " Let us talk soberly and calmly, my darling," said the 
 teacher, with an assumption of indifference. " Leave vio- 
 lence and threats aside in the presence of one who is no 
 longer your teacher but a military officer, in control of an 
 army. You saw very well that this evening I was practi- 
 cally appointed director and correspondent in matters per- 
 taining to the army. Whatever I did to your father and 
 
The Meeting 65 
 
 brother was not done from wickedness. The lash which you 
 gave me in the face and of which you see that I still bear 
 the mark, instead of extinguishing my love, made it blaze 
 higher. I fled intoxicated and maddened at the failure of 
 our marriage, and in my frenzy I led the Laliots to the tower. 
 When the maniac and the drunkard are condemned for what 
 they do, it will be time to condemn the man who is mad with 
 love. I have shed tears of repentance, Andronike. When 
 I saw you escape so cleverly from the hands of the Alba- 
 nians, my admiration became delirium. ' There,' I said, < is 
 a woman who has not her equal in the world/ If you knew 
 how much my love has grown since then ! In all the 
 dangers of battle and siege to which the Laliots bore me, 
 you were the only dream, the only desire I had." 
 
 " Surely the wretch is a madman possessed by the devil ! 
 Sir, I tell you face to face, that just as I did not love you 
 before, so now I loathe you. My coming here is simply to 
 say that if you reveal who I am, you will suffer for it. 
 Remember that I kept silent about your crime simply 
 because I am disguised under these clothes." 
 
 Biting his lips till they bled, Barthakas replied: "If you 
 know, young lady, how to keep your secret, I also know how 
 to keep mine. Yet I must add that, in spite of all the 
 threats which you have no right to make inasmuch as I am 
 no longer your teacher and now occupy so high a place, — in 
 spite of all your threats, I say, I shall, only because of my 
 love and jealousy, not disclose who you are. But, without 
 becoming enraged, do you give me permission to ask you a 
 single question ? " 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 u Suppose that by bad luck at the end of this conflict, 
 from which it is uncertain who will come out alive and who 
 will be dead, — suppose, I say, that by horrible and lamented 
 fortune Thrasyboulos is slain and your heart is free, may I 
 then at least hope for his place ? " 
 
 "No! never!" cried Andronike, passionately. "Wash- 
 ing the Arab may make him white, but never will you per- 
 suade me to marry you. The years when we were living 
 together in the same house ought to have shown you that. 
 I could never endure you. You knew it. And now, a 
 hundred times more when your hands have been dipped in 
 the blood of my father and brother." 
 
 " Young lady, enough of insults ! " cried Barthakas, rising 
 
 5 
 
66 Andronike 
 
 angrily. " In fact, I am insane to care for a romantic and 
 fanciful girl like you. You want to imitate what you have 
 read ; instead you become ridiculous and impudent beyond 
 endurance. Showing kindness and courtesy to clowns is 
 like trying to sweeten the ocean with honey. I wish to 
 remain alone in my room. If necessary, I will call my men. 
 Reflect, young lady, reflect on your situation ; " and he ap- 
 proached the door. 
 
 " It is my situation truly, you monster, which prevents 
 my giving you another lesson like what you had in the tower. 
 Yet the same fortune which brought you again to my 
 presence will some day suddenly bring you before my Thra- 
 syboulos. He is the rock on which your accursed head shall 
 be dashed to pieces. Zaccheus ! " she added, and quitted 
 the room of Barthakas. 
 
 All that night Andronike could not sleep, realizing with 
 whom she had to deal. She did not doubt that in a few 
 days he would bring greater troubles upon her. After 
 mature reflection, with her accustomed quickness of decision, 
 she called her pallikaris together and set out for Vostitza, 
 where she hired a boat and crossed to the Gulf of Amphissa. 
 From there she wrote a letter giving full details to Germanos, 
 Archbishop of Patras. She told him what Barthakas had 
 done, and stated the reasons which forced her to abandon 
 the siege of the citadel. She urged him carefully to watch 
 the man to whom they had intrusted their correspondence. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 DIAKOS AND ODYSSEUS 
 
 Let us enter ancient Lamia, where Demosthenes roused 
 the Lamian war, — the land where in still earlier days 
 Achilles, the son of Peleus, ruled. The plains in front of 
 the city are as extended and as marshy as when Xerxes 
 pitched his tents there. 
 
 In the meadows, called the plains of Zeitouni, fifteen 
 hundred Greeks were encamped, not far from Alamana on 
 the Sperchian Bridge. They had come to defend once 
 more the neighboring pass of Thermopylae. 
 
Diakos and Odysseus 67 
 
 Seven thousand Turkish foot and eight hundred horse, 
 commanded by Omer Brione, were on the march to disperse 
 them. The sun of early spring was melting the snow on 
 the mountains ; exquisite tints bordered the horizon. The 
 soldiers, dispersed in groups, were cleaning their arms and 
 indulging in gymnastic exercises. 
 
 Among their leaders were Esaias, Bishop of Amphissa, 
 and above all Athanasios Diakos, one of the noblest heroes 
 modern Greece has produced. He was about thirty-five, 
 of a commanding figure, with a manly gait, a calm and 
 penetrating look, and a pensive smile. His entire appear- 
 ance revealed a resolute, intrepid heart under a modest and 
 pleasing exterior. 
 
 It was he who first unfurled the flag of liberty in eastern 
 Greece, attacking and defeating the Turks of Levadia, 
 and in eight days rousing the whole province to rebellion. 
 At first a monk, he grew dissatisfied with the monastic 
 life, and became an armatolos on the mountains of Locris 
 and Thessaly. Afterwards he was intimate with Odysseus, 
 then an officer of Ali Pasha of Yanina. 
 
 The leaders of these fifteen hundred Greeks were sitting 
 under a plane-tree, when clouds of dust appeared at a dis- 
 tance, and shortly afterward three horsemen were seen 
 coming at the utmost speed. They were the general Odys- 
 seus, his proto-pallikari Gouras, and an unknown horseman. 
 
 "A day of mourning, brothers. My lips shrink from 
 uttering the sad tidings," cried Odysseus. 
 
 "What is it ? " asked Diakos. 
 
 " To-day at dawn a courier from Constantinople passed 
 through our camp on his way to the Morea. The Turks 
 have hanged the patriarch Gregory, the bishops of the 
 Synod, and many other priests, and have also butchered 
 about ten thousand innocent citizens." 
 
 " You Turks ! You Turks ! " cried Diakos, with frenzy. 
 "You are brave only against the unarmed and harmless. 
 To-morrow we shall meet you at Thermopylae! At the 
 graveyard of the Persians we shall meet you ! " 
 
 Like an electric shock the news of the patriarch's death 
 spread among the soldiers. They crowded round their 
 chiefs for fuller information. 
 
 The Bishop of Amphissa spoke: "Pallikaris, do not 
 mourn over the death of our patriarch and bishops. The 
 Most High has called them to heaven that thence they may 
 
68 Andronike 
 
 direct our struggle. The whole world will hear the news 
 with horror, and will send crusaders to our ranks. Show 
 the civilized powers of Europe that the same blood, the 
 same courage, the same ambition are in you. Show the 
 world that love of liberty never has fled from our land, but 
 has always dwelt among yonder peaks of Olympus and 
 Ossa." 
 
 It is impossible to describe the emotion and excitement 
 of the army. 
 
 After a little while Diakos took Odysseus aside : " Hurry 
 back, my friend, to your troops. Your presence there is 
 necessary. To-morrow we shall fight and die at Ther- 
 mopylae like the three hundred. I pray that you may live 
 long, for the country needs your valor and skill. I pray 
 God that the nation may at last enjoy liberty. When death 
 closes your own eyelids, seek me in the region where the 
 souls of those who have died for their fatherland meet 
 each other." 
 
 "Nonsense, Diakos ! Your hour has not yet come," said 
 Odysseus. " You and I are armatoli, baptized in a shower 
 of balls. Bullets do not touch us. Come and see me after 
 the victory. You know that I am living in the Corycian 
 Cave. The moisture dripping from the stalactites is 
 refreshing ! " 
 
 " Very well," said Diakos, with a smile. " As long as the 
 Turks of Roumelia are in control, the caves and forests 
 must be our habitations. My Odysseus, God grant us to 
 subdue our foes, and then we will build houses and palaces 
 in Athens opposite the Parthenon and the Pnyx!" 
 
 "Amen," the two friends repeated. Thrice they kissed 
 each other on the mouth, and then separated. 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE TERRIBLE TIDINGS 
 
 After landing at the Gulf of Amphissa, Andronike 
 started for the little village of Castri, which is situated 
 on the ruins of the Delphic oracle. The next day she set 
 out for Lamia. It was the most favorable place in Greece 
 in which to wait for news of Thrasyboulos, being on the 
 
The Terrible Tidings 69 
 
 overland route to Constantinople and near the Gulf of 
 Malis, which is always covered with ships. Also she sup- 
 posed things were more quiet there than in Peloponnesus. 
 
 Already she seemed to have left Barthakas far behind. 
 "Gladly would I give all the treasures of my father," 
 she thought, "if some pythia of Delphi could tell me 
 when Thrasyboulos and I shall meet." 
 
 About sunset she reached the outposts of the Greeks at 
 Thermopylae. Proceeding at once to find Diakos and the 
 other generals, she caught the notes of a patriotic song. 
 
 " Who is singing with such a rich voice ?" the girl asked 
 her guide. 
 
 " It is Diakos ! the handsome pallikari ! the brave 
 Diakos ! " 
 
 Andronike approached the tent. The chieftains were 
 sitting on the grass. 
 
 "Welcome, young captain," said a captain, as she ap- 
 proached. 
 
 " I am glad to find the generals. Long live the captains," 
 said Andronike, laying her right hand on her pistols and 
 bowing. 
 
 " Are you also come to fight the Turks ? " asked Diakos, 
 who still held his flute in his hands. "You are very 
 young, captain, and you are handsome too." 
 
 "I am not so young as you were, general, when you 
 started from Olympus as a klept with your gun on your 
 shoulder. You were only fifteen, I think." 
 
 "Sit down, captain. Were you an armatolos before 
 April sixth?" asked the veteran Panourghias, observing her 
 earnestly. 
 
 "The fields of the Morea know me a little." 
 
 " Are you from the Morea ? Prom what part of it ? " 
 
 "From Demetzana in Arcadia." 
 
 " From the country of our late patriarch ? " 
 
 " Of the late patriarch ! What do you mean ? " 
 
 "What! Don't you know that the sultan has hanged 
 the patriarch Gregory and all his clergy ? " 
 
 "What do you mean?" exclaimed Andronike, springing 
 in an instant to her feet. "Where did you get the news ?" 
 
 "It is bitter news, captain, but true," said Diakos. 
 "Unfortunately it is too true. Odysseus brought it." 
 Then he related minutely all that had occurred in Constan- 
 tinople. 
 
70 Andronike 
 
 Breathing heavily, she became deathly pale as she lis- 
 tened and tears gushed from her eyes. Her words were 
 disconnected and incoherent. 
 
 "We ourselves wept for the patriarch and the bishops, 
 captain," said an officer, trying to comfort her; "but you 
 do not mourn merely like a Christian, but like one who has 
 lost a brother." 
 
 M I have lost a brother, for my brother Thrasyboulos was 
 at the patriarchate. We are nephews of the patriarch," 
 she added, coming to herself and recalling her peculiar 
 position., 
 
 " Are you the brother of Thrasyboulos ? " exclaimed the 
 Bishop Esaias. "I met him last year at Constantinople. 
 He had a heart of gold. He was greatly beloved by the 
 patriarch." 
 
 " Do you suppose, most reverend bishop, that they hanged 
 him also ? " 
 
 "In truth, my child, I do not know what to suppose. 
 The courier tells us that they hanged patriarch, bishops, 
 priests, and whomever they found at the patriarchate. 
 Perhaps your brother escaped or was concealed." 
 
 Andronike kept on sobbing; the bystanders in vain 
 sought to comfort her. 
 
 Diakos approached her and, taking her two hands in his, 
 "Do not weep so, effendi," he said. "It is a shame to 
 weep. If a Greek loses his father and mother for his 
 country, he must thirst for revenge, but he must never 
 weep. Stop, do not cry; you afflict my own soul." 
 
 " You are right. We must breathe vengeance against the 
 tyrants," she cried. As if overcome with enthusiasm, she 
 raised her hands from his. 
 
 He gazed on her extraordinary beauty calmly and cheer- 
 fully, feeling a strong sentiment of friendship for her. 
 " Shall we become adopted brothers ? I believe that when 
 you smell powder you are like a lion ! " 
 
 " Adopted brothers ! Yes ! why not ? But not till after 
 the battle, when we part. Before the battle we are all of 
 us brothers by adoption, for we have all come with the 
 same purpose of falling for our country." 
 
 "Thus let it be," replied Diakos, inclining his head on 
 his breast. " After the battle ! That is another question. 
 One of us two may not survive." 
 
 Their conversation was interrupted by another courier 
 
The Terrible Tidings 71 
 
 who passed by Thermopylae to Peloponnesus. He an- 
 nounced that he had met a Turkish army in Thessaly not 
 far from them, comprising about seven thousand foot and 
 eight hundred horse. He brought further details concern- 
 ing the patriarch and the martyred clergy. 
 
 Andronike questioned him closely. He could tell her 
 nothing about her betrothed except that any nephew of the 
 patriarch was probably a victim. 
 
 Leaving the tent of the commanders, she abandoned her- 
 self to the agony of her woman's heart. No one was left 
 to her now in the wide world except distant relatives, 
 whom she did not care for and who did not care for her. 
 Therefore she preferred to fall on the enemy and to seek a 
 glorious death rather than remain the prey of a lifelong 
 sorrow. Worn out by bitter thoughts and the fatigue of 
 the journey, she fell into a heavy slumber. 
 
 She was already sleeping, covered by a long-haired plush, 
 when Lampros and her pallikaris sat down to dinner. A 
 bit of roast goat, served on leaves, and a handful of rice 
 composed their meal. 
 
 "Didn't I tell you, boys, not to find fault with the 
 captain, though he did leave the siege at Patras rather 
 suddenly ? I told you he had a good reason. To-night the 
 case is clear. He wanted to smell real powder. To- 
 morrow we have to fight with nine thousand, and we are 
 not ourselves fifteen hundred. Besides, they have eight 
 hundred cavalry and we have not even a donkey." 
 
 "I am not afraid, Father Lampros," one of the soldiers 
 said, "even if we fight a hundred thousand. Our cap- 
 tain is nephew of the patriarch, so now Christ and the 
 Panaghia will look after us. They will see that not a ball 
 comes anywhere near us." Then he told of the marvellous 
 coolness Captain Andronikos had shown at the siege of 
 the citadel, when his powder gave out and he was sur- 
 rounded by enemies. 
 
 "For more than a month now," said Lampros, gravely 
 tearing the meat from a bone, " I have been watching our 
 captain. The more I see of him, the better I like him. 
 Do you know he is nephew of the patriarch, and yet he 
 never once mentioned his uncle ? How anybody else 
 would have strutted! Look at him now, and see how 
 he sleeps like a saddled horse. He does not even put 
 branches under his cloak, but throws himself down on a 
 
72 Andronike 
 
 rock. The death of his brother has been fearfully hard 
 for him." 
 
 " Did you see the famous Diakos, Father Lampros ? " 
 interrupted another soldier. " What kind of a man is he ? 
 Tall and fierce-looking ? " 
 
 "Neither, though he is taller than the captain. He is 
 well-shaped and soft-spoken. If it were not for his repu- 
 tation, no one would think him a hero." 
 
 " How do the other captains appear to you ? You are a 
 veteran from the Morea and are able to judge." 
 
 " May God brand me for a liar, " said Lampros, frown- 
 ing, "if I took my eyes off Diakos. The others are 
 ordinary men; but he ! How he sang from his heart, — 
 
 " ' Better one brief hour of freedom 
 Than fifty years of slavery ! ' " 
 
 " Bravo, you old armatolos ! May you live a thousand 
 years! Bravo," cried the pallikaris, with enthusiasm. 
 "God is granting liberty again. Think of our being a 
 country by ourselves and sending consuls and ambassadors 
 to Europe and having the flag of the cross ! I say ! How 
 will that seem to the Turk ? " 
 
 "It will seem to him," Lampros angrily interrupted, — 
 "it will seem to him just as it seems to us to see him 
 seated so many years in the place of our parents and build- 
 ing his mosques everywhere on our churches. We have 
 abandoned the villages and the fields, and have gone to the 
 mountains and rocks, so as not to be his slaves. We are 
 not night-highwaymen, though the Franks call us so. We 
 live by our sword, and our bullets sing to the faith of 
 Christ and to freedom. Whatever enemy we meet, we 
 fight him face to face." 
 
 " Bravo ! bravo ! " they cried. " Once more to the health 
 of the captain and to Lampros and us ! " 
 
 Then one of them poured some wine into a gourd and 
 offered it to Lampros. Afterwards the rest in turn passed 
 it from lip to lip. 
 
 With a brief "good-night" Lampros wrapped himself 
 in his cloak and was quickly asleep. The rest followed 
 his example. 
 
The Modern Battle of Thermopylae 73 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE MODERN BATTLE OF THERMOPYLAE 
 
 At dawn Andronike awoke. Her eyes wandered around 
 the still shadowy horizon of that glorious ground on which 
 she had slept. Her imagination was still excited by the 
 wild and feverish dreams of the night. Raising her hands 
 and her mind toward the Maker of all, she offered her 
 morning prayer. 
 
 Thermopylae, that mountain mausoleum of Leonidas and 
 the Three Hundred, within which the Immortals of Xerxes 
 were shown to be nothing but men, is marked only by its 
 sharp rocks and its sacred soil, in which the inquisitive 
 European spade turns up here and there vestiges of an- 
 tiquity. The pass is no longer narrow as formerly, but a 
 plain formed by the alluvial deposit of several rivers. 
 Almost every reminder of antiquity has disappeared. 
 
 The day had not far advanced, when the horizon was 
 obscured with thick clouds of dust. It was the advancing 
 Turkish army. " Thank heaven," said Andronike, "to- 
 day my sufferings end. To-day I avenge my religion, my 
 country, and my Thrasyboulos. If fortune has no other 
 ill turn to give me, to-day in the eternal world I shall 
 again meet my betrothed." 
 
 Divouniotis and Panourgias, with about eleven hundred 
 men, had taken their position at the entrance of Ther- 
 mopylae. Diakos, the Bishop Esaias, his brother Priest 
 Yannis, and Andronike with nearly five hundred remained 
 at the Sperchian Bridge. 
 
 The bishop gave his benediction to the army, and point- 
 ing to the cross encouraged them with heroic words. 
 Diakos reverently kissed the cross and the right hand of 
 the bishop. Seeing the torrent of the barbarians rushing 
 on tumultuously with fierce shouts of "Allah, Allah," he 
 cried : " Only a coward is afraid of that tumult. At our 
 first shot they will run." 
 
 "At least, if we do not conquer, Diakos, we will die 
 gloriously like the Three Hundred," cried Andronike. 
 
 "You are indeed at my side, my noble friend. When 
 you speak, my soul feels itself transported. Stay close 
 
74 Andronike 
 
 to me, brother. Stand close and see me slaughter the 
 Turks." 
 
 "Here I am near you, Diakos. Here I shall fight." 
 
 "Let us not get separated," murmured Diakos, already 
 levelling his gun at the approaching hordes. 
 
 "With such captains," said Lampros, "two hundred 
 mountaineers from Olympus are enough for that rabble." 
 
 Listening to the words of Diakos, five of his soldiers 
 became excited to madness. " Long live the fatherland ! " 
 they shouted. "Our bodies shall form a barrier on that 
 bridge." The five rushed upon the narrow bridge to check 
 the seven thousand Albanians of Omer Brione. Fighting 
 desperately, they were quickly slain. 
 
 The two armies met in hand-to-hand encounter. The 
 heavy cavalry of the Turks fell upon the confused and 
 newly raised Greek infantry, which was destitute of cav- 
 alry and artillery, and turned it to flight. 
 
 Diakos fought like a lion. He saw his soldiers swept 
 along by the onrush of the seven thousand Turks, and flee- 
 ing to the steep rocks where Panourgias and Divouniotis 
 with their soldiers were also seeking refuge, and shouted: 
 " Brothers, do not run ! Do not run ! The Three Hundred 
 are watching you, from there ! Listen ! Their bones are 
 moving at your cowardice." 
 
 His words were unheeded on the field of battle, already 
 covered by many Greek and Turkish dead. Together still 
 stood Diakos, Andronike, the Archbishop Esaias, his 
 brother Priest Yannis, and about fifty soldiers. 
 
 "Ah," cried Lampros, foaming with rage, "so the 
 cowards run away. But we will beat the Turks ourselves 
 and alone." With a fearful blow he cut down and hurled 
 from his horse a Turkish mounted soldier who was spurring 
 against him. 
 
 The noise was infernal. Shouts, groans, clashing swords, 
 the rattle of musketry mingled with the booming of cannon, 
 while clouds of dust and smoke enveloped the combatants. 
 
 Andronike fought on like an amazon near Diakos, Esaias, 
 and her pallikaris, when a ball gave the bishop his death- 
 wound. 
 
 "I am slain, Diakos," the bishop cried with a moan. 
 u But zeto ! Long live the Nation! " he added and expired. 
 
 A second ball struck down his brother Priest Yannis. 
 
 "Diakos! Diakos!" shouted the Turks, and in a mass 
 
The Modern Battle of Thermopylcz 75 
 
 they dashed toward the splendidly clad Andronike, whom 
 they mistook for the famous leader. 
 
 "Yes, I am Diakos," she replied. Glowing, resolute, 
 and hopeless, she mounted a rock to make her last stand 
 against her impetuous assailants. 
 
 While she struggled with a powerful bey, who had 
 nimbly ascended the rock to hurl her down, a horseman 
 with his sword struck at her from behind. Lampros 
 sprang violently upon him and cut off the hand of the Turk ; 
 but the blow, which would have laid open the head of 
 Andronike, was not wholly prevented. The point of the 
 sword smote her upon the temple. Her eyes closed; her 
 face instantly turned white as if dead. Her ears no longer 
 discerned the noise or the cries of the combatants. She 
 dropped from the stone and rolled down upon the heaps 
 of the slain, her lips faintly murmuring the name of 
 Thrasyboulos. 
 
 The armatolos Lampros likewise fell, shockingly wounded 
 by the pistol of the horseman whose hand he had cut off. 
 
 Before Andronike shouted, "I am Diakos," and thus 
 drew upon herself the attack of the Turks, a ball had 
 broken the right arm of Diakos even before the bishop 
 fell. His gun burst, and he emptied his two pistols in the 
 face of the enemy. Then he begged the bishop to kill 
 him, that he might not fall into the hands of the enemy. 
 The bishop shrank from such a deed, and while he was 
 hesitating, he was himself slain. Diakos placed the body 
 of the bishop as a rampart before him, and fought with his 
 sword in his left hand, shouting to Omer Brione, "It is I 
 who am Diakos. I myself am the proto-pallikari of 
 Odysseus. Do you not recognize me, Omer Brione ? Don't 
 you remember what I did at Yanina ? Know me now by 
 the hate I have for you." 
 
 "It is his very self," angrily cried the pasha of the 
 Sublime Porte. "Do not kill him, but take him alive." 
 
 All the Turks, who a moment before had surrounded the 
 rock from which Andronike fell, now rushed desperately 
 upon Diakos. The heroism of the renowned leadei is to- 
 day a household word in modern Greece. There is no need 
 to describe his last fight. After his sword was broken 
 and his hand so swollen that it clung to the hilt, he was 
 taken alive and carried to Lamia, where the brutal Turkish 
 satrap was preparing his punishment. 
 
76 Andronike 
 
 "Are you really that Diakos who captured Thebes and 
 Levadia ?" Omer Brione asked him. 
 
 "Don't you know me, then ? " the armatolos answered. 
 
 "Have you reckoned up the number of Mussulmans 
 whom you have slain year by year ? " 
 
 " I have reckoned that, if each Greek did the same, very 
 soon Mohammed would not have one of his religion on the 
 face of the earth." 
 
 " Giaour, you foul dog ! " cried Omer Brione, striking the 
 hero a violent blow in his face. 
 
 " You strike me now because I am a prisoner. Courage, 
 pasha ! A real Albanian you are ! Leave me free a 
 moment with my sword and, wounded as I am, with my 
 right arm broken, I will show you what a Greek is worth." 
 
 The pasha looked at him from head to foot with mingled 
 anger and admiration. Then he said: "Diakos, become a 
 Turk. The Padishah will make you a pasha just like 
 me." 
 
 "I was for years a klept on the mountains so as not to 
 see the Turks, and now, when we are fighting for our 
 liberty, do you propose to me to become a Turk ? " Diakos 
 replied with contempt. 
 
 "Put the giaour on the spit," ordered the pasha. 
 
 " Do as you wish, " said the martyr of freedom, shrug- 
 ging his shoulders. "The more horrible the death you 
 give me, so much the more immortal will you make my 
 memory, and so much more terrible the vengeance which 
 Odysseus will inflict upon you. Tremble, Brione, at the 
 thought of my avenger." 
 
 While the Albanian pasha led the armatolos to the place 
 where the spit and the lire were waiting, Diakos sang the 
 song dear to the klepts of Ossa and Olympus, — 
 
 u This the hour Death chose to seize me, 
 While the flowers and fresh grass please me." 
 
 It was in truth early summer, and young Diakos was 
 entering the summer-time of life. Diakos kept singing 
 the songs of the klepts, and meanwhile gazed at the sky. 
 The blue heavens above Thermopylae arched over a land- 
 scape of marvellous beauty. 
 
 "Hold the stake on which I am going to stick you," said 
 an Albanian soldier to Diakos, at the same time handing 
 him a long slender piece of pine. 
 
The Corycian Cave 77 
 
 "I will not hold the barbarous instrument of your 
 shameful torture," said Diakos, throwing it away. "Say, 
 Albanians," he cried, "is there not one true pallikari 
 among you who will shoot me with a pistol ? Do you mean 
 to take my life in this monstrous way ? " 
 
 The Turks have always shown a fiendish ingenuity in 
 their invention of punishments. Omer Brione and the 
 Albanians completed the indescribable torture, of which 
 we doubt if another example in the nineteenth century can 
 be found in the history of any people save the Turks. 
 
 Diakos was impaled and slowly wasted to death, endur- 
 ing his agony without a groan. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE CORYCIAN CAVE 
 
 There is no soil more classic than that of Phocis, no 
 landscape more entrancing than that of Parnassus. 
 
 This venerable and many-ridged mountain, the former 
 haunt of Apollo and the Muses, snow-crowned the greater 
 portion of the year, with marble peaks destitute of grass 
 and plants, faces the entire Corinthian Gulf, which lies an 
 unrolled lake at its feet. On the left it joins Helicon and 
 is mirrored in Lake Copais. Far to the rear it discerns 
 high-crested Olympus, the abode of Zeus and the deities 
 of ancient polytheism. 
 
 To this venerable mountain, starred with caves, oak 
 forests, and craggy precipices, where famous rivers with a 
 confused murmur dash foaming from rock to rock, and to 
 its peak Lycorea, reached by a thousand steps cut in the 
 cliffs, we transport our reader. 
 
 Near by Lycorea is the Corycian Cave, once the dwelling- 
 place of the Corycian nymph, within which many thousand 
 Greeks found refuge in the time of Xerxes and to which 
 the grievously wounded Andronike was conveyed a few 
 days after the battle of Thermopylae. 
 
 This cave, about seven miles northeast from Delphi, 
 was then occupied by Odysseus, the friend of the tortured 
 Diakos, by his soldiers, his beautiful wife Elene, his little 
 son, and some' of their kindred. Its situation rendered it 
 
78 Andronike 
 
 almost impregnable to attack from any direction. The 
 ascent to it is abrupt and precipitous. 
 
 It was then commonly known in the neighborhood as 
 the Black Hole. Around its narrow entrance a multitude 
 of eagles flew and croaked clamorously. Before the revo- 
 lution they were for years its undisturbed occupants, and 
 seemed unable to forget that men had driven them thence. 
 By a ladder one descended to the habitations which had 
 been stolen from nature. 
 
 The cave is over two hundred feet long, and in the 
 middle forty feet high. The outer light enables the visitor 
 to discern the stalactites as well as the damp and uneven 
 sides, the sometimes concave, sometimes projecting roof, 
 and the floor with its sharp inclines. In the latter bubbles 
 a transparent spring. Inside the cave there were a few 
 houses and magazines stocked with food and munitions. 
 
 On advancing one reaches another great chasm in the 
 rock, from which he enters another natural hall, a still 
 darker cave about one hundred feet in length, lying at 
 right angles with the one first approached. 
 
 Here a step cannot be taken without torches. As one 
 advances, the moisture becomes more heavy, the darkness 
 even more dense, and the general impression more appalling. 
 One thinks in truth that he is at the gate of Pluto's king- 
 dom, and will shortly penetrate the mysteries of the in- 
 fernal realms. By the glaring torch of the guide, the roof 
 and sides seem pouring out tints of opal, crystal, and ala- 
 baster. Columns curtained with neglected draperies, 
 carvings in relief, likenesses of animals and of human 
 heads, which nature has fashioned from the incessant drip- 
 pings and the spaces between which she has colored with a 
 sort of fadeless verdure, form its dewy and transparent 
 furniture and ornaments. 
 
 When the death of Diakos became known, Odysseus 
 hurried to Thermopylae to meet Omer Brione, but the latter 
 had already marched to Doris. 
 
 For many hours Andronike remained insensible, covered 
 with blood and unnoticed among the dead. About mid- 
 night she began to come to herself. She raised her heavy 
 head and, trembling, felt the awful quiet now prevailing 
 on the plain, a few hours before given up to strife and the 
 shouts of battle. The faint groans and moans of the 
 wounded and the dying rendered the night still more 
 
The Corycian Cave 79 
 
 hideous. To increase the horror, she could hear the croak- 
 ings of the carrion birds of Callidromus, already descend- 
 ing upon their hideous least. 
 
 She could not understand how she had escaped death. 
 That death, which the night before she had longed for, 
 now appeared so horrible that she tried to rise and escape 
 from the place before the Turks should return at daybreak 
 to plunder the dead. 
 
 She was tormented by a burning thirst. Her strength 
 was gone. She was but one half alive among the dead. 
 Nevertheless she succeeded in dragging herself to the rocks 
 of Callidromus. There she fell like a wounded fawn into 
 a dry chasm, overcome with thirst and fever. 
 
 Odysseus and his soldiers found her by chance a day 
 later and, after her strength was somewhat restored, re- 
 moved her to the Corycian Cave. 
 
 A beautiful Ottoman woman, who had been baptized a 
 Christian and was held as a prisoner, appeared like a 
 white pearl in the midst of the sunburned soldiers. The 
 sense of confidence which her face inspired made Andro- 
 nike seek her acquaintance and conduct toward her as 
 woman to woman. This aroused the jealousy of the rest, 
 but excited toward Andronike a violent passion on the 
 part of the young woman, whose name was Diamanto. 
 
 The same thing happened to Kyra R , a kinswoman of 
 
 Odysseus. She fell desperately in love with the masculine- 
 attired Andronike, who now wherever she turned was 
 followed by one of the two women. 
 
 At first their harmless conversation gave pleasure to the 
 Arcadian. It recalled the ardent expressions of Thra- 
 syboulos. It was a consolation, banishing for a moment 
 from her memory the fate of her lover. But when she 
 perceived that the two women loved her ardently and were 
 jealous of each other, she found herself in a strange and 
 difficult position. 
 
 The white-faced Diamanto was a timid and sensitive 
 
 being, who blushed whenever she approached. Kyra E 
 
 was tall, dark, with the blackest of eyes, eyebrows, and 
 hair. Her manners were masculine rather than feminine. 
 A Suliot by race, she was a woman who had seen the 
 fires of war more than once, and was bold, restless, 
 passionate, and often violent. 
 
 One morning Andronike was bathing her feet in the 
 
80 Andronike 
 
 spring, when Kyra E came to fill her water-pitcher. 
 
 " What white and dainty feet you have, Captain Andro- 
 nikos! Nature meant you for a woman and turned you 
 into a boy by mistake." 
 
 Andronike was preparing to depart, when Kyra R 
 
 touched her arm and said , " Why do you run away from 
 me, captain ? You know very well what my heart says 
 about you, but my tongue cannot say just what I feel." 
 
 "I am not running away from you, lady, but I am 
 afraid somebody will see us." 
 
 " If you are willing, say half a word and the general will 
 marry us." 
 
 "How can you talk about marriage when you see the 
 nation in such a war! " 
 
 " What difference does the war make ? Through ten 
 years one after another the Suliots fought with Ali Pasha, 
 but were they not married ! We followed the men to war, 
 we sang the klept songs, we looked out for their needs, 
 and when one was killed, we snatched his arms from his 
 hand, shouted revenge, and took his place. Captain, 
 would n't you like a wife who was herself a pallikari ? " 
 
 "It seems to me strange," said Andronike, "that a 
 woman should go to war. War is the only thing a man 
 may boast about in her presence. If then she equals him 
 in that, she at once becomes his superior," she added with 
 increasing laughter. 
 
 " Are you laughing at me, captain ? It seems to me 
 that, instead of caring anything about me, you are laugh- 
 ing at me. Don't you like the Suliot women ? You want 
 a sort of pussy cat like Diamante If I thought she was 
 the cause of your not caring anything for me, I would 
 give her something she wouldn't forget soon," added the 
 Suliot, becoming more and more enraged. 
 
 "By the Panaghia, I have not the slightest love for 
 Diamanto," said Andronike. "I swear to you solemnly 
 that I shall never marry her. Don't have any idea, then, 
 of harming the innocent girl." 
 
 " Can I believe you ? " she asked with a glad look in her 
 black eyes. 
 
 "You can believe me." 
 
 "Don't you love her the least bit ?" 
 
 " I have no love for her, but a friendly feeling, just as I 
 have for everybody in the cave." 
 
The Corycian Cave 81 
 
 "And so then you will never make her your wife." 
 
 "Never." 
 
 " My mind is getting a little quiet. Listen to me, Cap- 
 tain Andronikos. I know about other things than war. 
 If ever we lay down our arms and the country becomes 
 quiet, I can do everything in the house and in the fields, 
 and I will work like a slave. But give me one kiss." 
 
 "What are you talking about ? They will see us." 
 
 "They won't see us. Don't be afraid. You are not 
 afraid of a bullet and yet are so afraid of a little kiss ! I 
 will kiss you, whether or no!" Seizing the hand of An- 
 dronike, she kissed her with sudden fury on the eyes. 
 
 At once Andronike ran away laughing. 
 
 "You laugh at me," said the Suliot, "but I will kiss 
 your lips yet." 
 
 Andronike had not taken many steps when she met the 
 general Odysseus. 
 
 " Where have you been, captain ? My wife and family 
 have gone out a little ways to get some air. Why don't 
 you go and join them ? " 
 
 "With pleasure," she answered. Just then Diamanto 
 came up and asked permission to go out. 
 
 " You swore to Kyra B that you did not care any- 
 thing about me," she said with quivering lips, as soon as 
 they were outside the cave. 
 
 " How ! Did you hear our conversation ? " 
 
 " All of it. And her impudent kiss ! I was hiding be- 
 hind some stalactites." 
 
 "I make the same oath to you, my beautiful Diamanto, 
 
 which I did to Kyra R . I do not love her, neither 
 
 shall I ever marry her." 
 
 " Were you ever in love, captain ? " 
 
 "Why do you ask?" 
 
 "Because if you were, you would know what it means." 
 
 Andronike stopped waiking. With a tender glance she 
 looked at the youthful Diamanto. Her heart, seared by 
 the horrors of war, softened. Her womanly feelings 
 awoke, and her eyes filled with tears. 
 
 " What ! Are you weeping, captain ? Did my question 
 melt your rocky heart ? Your melancholy and your 
 silence are proofs that you are in love. If it is really true, 
 I will not look you in the face again when I tell you how 
 I feel." J 
 
82 Andronike 
 
 " Stop ! " said Andronike. Sitting down on a rock, she 
 hid her face in her hands sobbing. 
 
 " If I had known that my words would pain you so much, 
 I would never have spoken. You must be most unhappy, 
 captain. I see it. Now I am crying too, not for myself, 
 but for you." 
 
 "Diamanto, do not cry. My tears are only nervous. 
 Do you not see how I am laughing ? " and her lips contorted 
 with a forced laugh. 
 
 "It is not from nervousness. In the bottom of your 
 soul you have some trouble and it overmasters you. Do 
 not hide it from me. I can tell just how you feel. Who 
 knows but perhaps I can help you ! I would help you 
 with all my heart." 
 
 "You are an angel, my darling Diamanto, but he whom 
 I loved is no longer in the world. Oh, my friend, I loved 
 him and I loved him madly. Where are my golden days! 
 The last ten months have made me old. I look like a 
 woman of forty, and yet I am not twenty." 
 
 "Captain, you are crazy. Here you are comparing 
 yourself with a woman, and yet, if you put on a woman's 
 clothes, all the men would fall in love with you. Your 
 face looks younger than mine. How long is it since you 
 looked in a glass ? " 
 
 "Since the day when I lost my father and brother I 
 have not fully undressed, I have not laid aside my arms, I 
 have not looked at a glass." 
 
 " When we go back to the cave, I will give you a little 
 Venetian glass. As soon as you see your face, you will 
 remember how handsome you are, and you will be per- 
 suaded that people are not wrong in falling in love with 
 you when they see you." 
 
 Andronike tenderly regarded the young girl. 
 
 "So you have a little glass." 
 
 " I have had it ever since I came with Odysseus. It be- 
 longed to Chamitja, the sister of Ali Pasha." 
 
 "Which do you like best, the harem where you were 
 before or being here ? " 
 
 " Oh ! The religion of Christ is a good deal better. 
 I do not have to put a veil on my face. I am free as a 
 bird here. Besides, the lady Elene and the general love 
 me and want to get me a husband." 
 
 " Then you have not chosen any one yet ? " 
 
The Corycian Cave 83 
 
 "No. Neither shall I ever choose. He whom I love 
 has sworn never to marry me, " she added, casting her eyes 
 to the ground. 
 
 " You talk to me frankly, and you are innocent as a dove. 
 Have you any friend in whom you confide ? " 
 
 "How I wish I had! But, because I was a Turk, none 
 of the women here understand that I am just the same as 
 they are." 
 
 "I need you, my little Diamanto," said Andronike, 
 throwing her arms around her lovingly. "Don't be 
 frightened. Don't run away. I am a woman like you, 
 but disguised in a man's clothes. Circumstances have 
 compelled me to dress in this way." 
 
 Briefly she told her who she was and how she came 
 there. 
 
 " As yet I cannot believe it. Leave me those kisses to 
 quench the thirst of my heart. Never shall I forget the 
 sweet dreams which I have had through you," said 
 Diamanto. 
 
 Andronike kissed her with the same emotion. She 
 needed a man's heart, but there was at least this woman 
 to whom she might pour out the story of her troubles ana 
 who would give her comfort if not counsel. 
 
 "What a misfortune, Diamanto, that we cannot meet, 
 like this every day and talk ! All in the cave have their 
 eyes on us and suspect us. Cannot we meet at night ? " 
 
 "It is very difficult, but for all that I will try and come 
 to-night where you are." 
 
 "Try, I beseech you. I wish to consult you. I intenu 
 to confide to the wife of the general who I am, and to 
 throw this disguise away." 
 
 " For God's sake, do not do it. You are a lost woman if 
 you do anything like that. But see, they are coming. 
 Without fail I will come to you to-night." 
 
 A few moments later they were joined by the rest of the 
 party. 
 
84 Andronike 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 DIAMANTO CARRETO 
 
 Odysseus was the son of the famous Androutsos of 
 Levadia, companion in arms of Lampros Katzonis, who 
 was once admiral of Catherine II and prince of Mana, 
 and subsequently a notorious pirate of the Mediterranean. 
 The Porte captured Androutsos by stratagem, and con- 
 demned him to the galleys, where he died in 1797. He 
 had made himself so formidable to the Turks that, when 
 the general Aubert Dubayet sought to obtain his release, 
 the capoudan pasha Koutchuk Houssein replied, " I would 
 rather let you have three million piastres than that man." 
 
 Odysseus served under Ali Pasha of Yanina, and shared 
 the dissolute life of his sons Mouktar and Velis. On the 
 other hand, with Diakos and Stounaris he lived as an arma- 
 tolos. He became a strange mixture of good and evil. 
 
 He was so fleet-footed that it was reported that he could 
 keep up with an Arab steed. He was handsome and over 
 six feet tall. His face was noble and expressive ; his hair 
 golden with a chestnut tinge, his moustache heavy and 
 thick, his complexion fair but sunburned. His robust 
 limbs indicated a wonderful combination of strength and 
 suppleness. According to Captain Eupheis, he had the 
 most beautiful hand ever seen on a man. 
 
 Although illiterate, he felt the glorious name which he 
 bore, and was inspired by the ambition not to appear 
 inferior to the Homeric king of Ithaca. Yet unhappily his 
 tyrannical and lawless character, resulting naturally from a 
 long-continued intimacy with the Turks, his arbitrary will 
 which he sought to impose on others as a law, his penetrat- 
 ing, suspicious, and too censorious judgment, and moreover 
 his insensate avarice and passion for quarrelling, were suffi- 
 cient to destroy the man. He was esteemed, by turns, the 
 savior of Greece, the terror of the Mussulmans, who sur- 
 named him Giaour Pasha, and at last the traitor to his 
 country. 
 
 He had pleasing manners, spoke Italian a little and 
 Albanian exceedingly well, dressed simply, but was too 
 fond of hunting, horses, and dogs. 
 
Diamanto Carreto 85 
 
 On her return to the Corycian Cave Andronike found the 
 soldiers busy with their arms. The news that Omer Brione, 
 elated by his victory at Thermopylae, was preparing to in- 
 vade Bceotia and Peloponnesus, had determined Odysseus 
 to march rapidly and defeat him. 
 
 Panourgias, Divouniotis, and others who had commanded 
 at the battle of Therinopylss, agreed to join him near the 
 Inn of Gravias. 
 
 It was almost night. The sunlight had faded from the 
 cave before they sat down to their meal. 
 
 Kyra R appeared thoughtful. The excited expres- 
 sion of her face foretold something serious. For a long 
 time she remained perfectly silent. Everybody else was 
 talking of the coming battle. 
 
 Suddenly she said bluntly : " To-morrow at the fight I 
 shall gain glory. I want to show Captain Andronikos just 
 once what a Suliot woman is worth." 
 
 "Captain Andronikos knows the Suliot women well 
 enough," Odysseus interrupted ; " but in our wars to-day 
 women cannot take part." 
 
 " Why not ? How then has Lascarina Vouvoulina a fleet 
 of her own with which at this moment she is blockading 
 Monemvasia ? Why is Man to able to be a captain ? Why 
 is Constanza Zacharis — " 
 
 " Do not be angry, lady. Vouvoulina and Manto have 
 their own resources. Vouvoulina owns many merchant 
 vessels which she has turned into war-ships." 
 
 " And am I not a pallikari ? Have n't I been in the busi- 
 ness ever since I was ten years old ? Count up the wars I 
 have been in, and see if I have not done more harm to the 
 Turks than Manto and Vouvoulina." Then she commenced 
 a long recital of the heroic deeds of the Suliot women. 
 
 " I know it," said Odysseus, smiling. " But then the 
 Turks came to expel you from your fortresses and country, 
 and you all were either to be killed or to conquer. Now, 
 on the other hand, it is we who have taken up arms and are 
 going to drive them out. Therefore the women must wait 
 in their houses for us to bring them the victory." 
 
 "For shame, general ! You darken my life. Think that 
 in spite of everything I am a good patriot. Think how 
 much wrong you do the country in opposing those who 
 would die for it." 
 
 The persistence of Kyra R was such that at last 
 
86 Andronike 
 
 Odysseus was forced to yield, and said she might do as 
 she wished. 
 
 All were ordered to arms, so each early withdrew to his 
 couch. 
 
 " So, Captain Andronikos," said the Suliot, touching the 
 Arcadian maiden lightly on the shoulder, "very soon we 
 shall have a battle. I shall fight like a dragon at your 
 side. Do you wish me to stay by you and to attack the 
 enemy together ? " 
 
 " Why not ? " stammered Andronike, bowing. " Good- 
 night." 
 
 An hour afterward not a sound was heard in the deep 
 cave except the rippling of its springs and the heavy 
 breathing of the soldiers. The dim light afforded by 
 candles, fastened to the sides, gave to the stalactites the 
 appearance of water shone upon by the full moon. 
 
 Andronike could not sleep, and restlessly thought of the 
 morrow's battle. A secret fear made her long to escape it 
 if possible. 
 
 The beds of the soldiers were in the outer cave, those of 
 the women in the inner one, the entrance being shut off by 
 a thick curtain. 
 
 Andronike's bed was inside a little hut at the corner of 
 the first cave very near the curtain. The women's quarter 
 in the second cavern was lighted by more numerous candles, 
 and was guarded by Odysseus himself, whose hut was placed 
 in the centre. 
 
 Kyra R tossed upon her pallet sleepless and unquiet. 
 
 The young Diamanto, creeping lightly toward the curtain, 
 succeeded in reaching it without being seen. 
 
 A moment later she was at the side of Andronike and 
 was hidden under her broad cloak. At once she said, 
 " Could you not pretend to be very sick and so not march 
 with the army ? " 
 
 " They would believe that I am a coward. It is better, I 
 think, to confide my secret to the wife of the general." 
 
 " For the sake of the Panaghia, I pray you not to do it. 
 My history will make you understand that by doing so you 
 put yourself in peril. I am the daughter of the Ottoman 
 lady Nekibe and of the Neapolitan Carreto, chief of artil- 
 lery to Ali Pasha at Yanina. You must have heard about 
 my parents. The tragical death of my mother made a 
 great commotion through all Epirus." 
 
Diamanto Carre to 87 
 
 Andronike shuddered, clasped Diamanto more closely to 
 her breast, and whispered, " What ! Are you the daughter 
 of Nekibe?" 
 
 " Yes. In the bright days of the tyrant of Yanina, my 
 father, while an artillery officer, met and devotedly loved 
 the beautiful Nekibe, whom the Turks called a rose more 
 beautiful than those of the paradise of Feristan. My un- 
 happy self was the child of their affection. I was named 
 Elmas ; in Greek, Diamanto or Diamond. Only after seven- 
 teen years did the satrap discover their relations. Since he 
 was very fond of my father on account of his long service, 
 he urged him to become a Mussulman and marry Nekibe. 
 But my father was faithful to the Christian religion, and 
 so tried to escape with my mother, but failed. 
 
 "Then Tachir Abas, secret counsellor of the pasha, ac- 
 cused them to the cadi. My mother was condemned to be 
 stoned to death, and my father to be burned alive. 
 
 " Three years ago, they tore the veil from the face of my 
 mother, — a mark of the utmost religious disgrace among 
 the Turks, — put on her a long white chemise and carried 
 her barefooted outside of Yanina. They had a hole dug 
 there shaped like a well ; they put her inside, and filled it 
 with earth up to her neck, so that only her head appeared 
 above the ground. 
 
 " I am shuddering so that I can hardly go on. Andro- 
 nike," added Diamanto, drenching the face of her friend 
 with tears, u what do you think ! After they had stoned 
 her pitilessly for a long time and the poor woman still 
 lived, a black Albanian was touched with compassion. He 
 lifted a block of marble with his two hands, approached 
 and hurled it upon her beautiful head." 
 
 " I well remember the event," whispered Andronike, with 
 a convulsive shudder. " It made so much excitement in all 
 Turkey. But how did your father escape ? " 
 
 " While they were carrying him to the fire, he was rescued 
 by a party of Albanians. As Ali Pasha needed him greatly, 
 he disdained the fanatical outburst which my father's love 
 for my mother had excited in Yanina and got him back. 
 It was then generally unknown where he was, and so he 
 was commonly considered dead. Last year, however, when 
 the sultan's army besieged Yanina, my father reappeared 
 in the world. Not only that, but he was commander at 
 Yanina. Now he is the military engineer who so heroically 
 defended the capital of Epirus." 
 
88 Andronike 
 
 " Did you ever know your parents, Diamanto ? " 
 
 V My mother I saw only once, but without knowing what 
 she was to me. My father I have never seen. I was but 
 three months old when I was taken away and given as a 
 present to Chainitja, the famous tigress of Gardion, the 
 sister of Ali. 
 
 "Two tragical events threw me into her hands. One 
 concerns her son, Elmas ; the other, the beautiful but un- 
 happy Euphrosyne. 
 
 " Chainitja was then the wife of the Pasha of Argyro- 
 castro. Ali, who was seeking in every way to get control 
 of that pashalik, instigated Souleiman, the brother of the 
 pasha, to kill him treacherously. As a reward he promised 
 him great wealth and his notorious sister, with whom he 
 knew that he had unlawful relations. Souleiman, at the 
 first interview with his brother, shot him dead with a pistol. 
 At the discharge Chainitja appeared, and found her hus- 
 band expiring in the arms of his brother. The fratricide 
 then threw his cloak over her, thus signifying, according to 
 Mussulman custom, that he took her for his wife. 
 
 " The fruit of this unnatural union was a boy to whom 
 was given the same name as ray own, Elmas. My name is 
 the cause which brought me into the hands of Chainitja. 
 
 " During my infancy a certain Euphrosyne created much 
 talk at Yanina. She was the niece of the archbishop 
 Gabriel and the bride of a wealthy Greek merchant, who a 
 few years after their marriage removed to Venice. Mouk- 
 tar Pasha, the son of Ali, became enamoured of her and, for- 
 saking his harem, day and night was found at her feet. 
 The complaints of Mouktar's wives made his father curious 
 to see Euphrosyne. As soon as he saw her, he too fell des- 
 perately in love with the woman. 
 
 " Forthwith he ordered Mouktar that very day to leave 
 Yanina and march against the rebel Georgim Pasha of 
 Adrianople. Yet neither the promises nor the presents nor 
 the threats of the brutal Ali could overcome the resistance 
 of Euphrosyne. Only Mouktar she loved, and for him alone 
 she lived. Finally Ali Pasha threw Euphrosyne and six- 
 teen other Greek women into prison under the pretext that 
 they were disgracing the city. Three nights later they 
 were drowned in the lake of Yanina, but Euphrosyne died 
 of terror before she was thrown into the waters." 
 
 " What a monster Ali is ! " said Andronike, with a groan. 
 
Diamanto Carreto 89 
 
 " The death of these women caused such terror that no- 
 body dared do anything for their helpless children. They 
 wandered up and down the streets weeping and naked, and 
 presenting a pitiable spectacle. I was then a baby. My 
 mother, who brought me into the world with great suffering 
 and was barely able to escape the suspicion of the harem, 
 could not keep me concealed. Her affection would have 
 been detected if the condition of the abandoned children 
 had not saved her. 
 
 " Gabriel, then Archbishop of Yanina, and uncle, as I 
 have said, of Euphrosyne, by entreaties and many presents 
 obtained permission from Ali to collect the wretched chil- 
 dren from the streets. Ali promised that no harm should 
 fall on any one who befriended them. 
 
 " My mother improved the opportunity and showed me 
 at once to the women of the harem, saying I was one of 
 those children, and that she had picked me up in the 
 street. 
 
 " Elmas, the son of Chainitja was the idol of his savage 
 mother. She developed in his soul all those vices which 
 she saw had raised her brother to the dignity of vizir. 
 
 "The Court of Saint Petersburg was then making com- 
 plaints to the Sublime Porte against Ali Pasha for his op- 
 pression of the Ionian Islands and of the inhabitants of 
 Vouthrotos, then under Russian protection. To satisfy 
 these complaints the sultan took away from Ali Pasha the 
 district of Thessaly and gave it to his nephew, Elmas 
 Pasha, the son of Chainitja. 
 
 "That woman, being no less unscrupulous than her 
 brother, at once conceived the idea of raising her son to his 
 uncle's place. Unable to control her feelings, she was de- 
 tected by the clever Ali and received the reward of her 
 wickedness. Her brother did not however disclose the 
 slightest suspicion ; on the other hand he sent splendid 
 presents to his nephew, and among them a very rich pelisse. 
 He furthermore announced that he was coming to Trikkala 
 to congratulate him on his appointment. 
 
 "The proud mother on the day of investiture adorned 
 Elmas Pasha with the pelisse. It had belonged to a girl 
 who had died shortly before of small-pox. Elmas Pasha 
 imbibed into his system the poison of the disease and suc- 
 cumbed within a week. It is impossible to describe the 
 madness of his mother. She came to Yanina and tried to 
 
90 Andronike 
 
 kill his physician. The vizir was very sympathetic, and 
 sent her back to her palace. 
 
 " Some days before she left Yanina she heard my name 
 Elmas. She inquired who I was, and asked for me from 
 my mother. My mother did not dare refuse, and so she 
 carried me to her palace. I do not remember my mother 
 or those days. My first recollections begin when Chainitja 
 lost her second and only surviving son, Atan Bey. 
 • " Her grief at this second bereavement was even keener 
 than before. In her one saw how the lioness and tigress 
 love their young. She burned all her ornaments and gold- 
 embroidered garments, pounded her costly furniture and 
 her diamonds with hammers, broke the mirrors and every- 
 thing else she could in the palace, and for many days rolled 
 on the floor moaning. 
 
 " Only once was my mother able to come to her palace, 
 but how could I know she was my mother ! She petted 
 me, kissed me, and hugged me in her arms. I liked her so 
 much that when she was returning to Yanina, I begged 
 her to come soon and see us again. 
 
 " My father was an intimate friend of Odysseus. There- 
 fore he told him all about his affairs, and confided to him 
 his plan of carrying off my mother and me and of escaping 
 to Venice. Me he did not know at all, for he had never 
 seen me. It was next to impossible to enter the harem of 
 Chainitja. The wife of Odysseus promised her assistance. 
 In fact, she visited the sister of the vizir, tried to find out 
 my inclinations, and, learning that I was discontented, 
 favored my escape. 
 
 "The day she left, I met her in the valley of Dryopolis, 
 and went with her to the Ionian Islands, where we found 
 the general. At once he hastened to announce my arrival to 
 my father, but it was too late. His relations with my mother 
 had already become public in Yanina, and the rumor soon 
 spread that both had been killed. Then I remained with 
 Odysseus and was most kindly treated. While in the Ionian 
 Islands I was sent to school and learned a little. 
 
 " Only a short while ago it came out that my father was 
 alive. Where the satrap had hidden him nobody knows. 
 The position which he now holds is high. The vizir does 
 his utmost to please him. He has written to Odysseus and 
 asked information about me. He promises him four hun- 
 dred thousand piastres if he sends me to Yanina, 
 
The Inn of Gravias 91 
 
 H The general and his wife do not wish to be separated 
 from me, because they have a strong affection for me ; but 
 on the other hand they love money and cannot decide to 
 lose so large a sum. 
 
 "A week ago I overheard the following conversation 
 between them. ' Carre to/ said the general, 'does not know 
 Diamanto, because he has never seen her. Let us find 
 another girl of just about the same age, and send her in- 
 stead, so we can keep the money of the pasha/ 'But will 
 she not confess/ said his wife, l that she never was in the 
 palace of Chainitja? ' ' We will give her a lesson first and 
 then we will send her.' ' Find somebody who does n't know 
 
 how to read/ said Kyra R . ' Cut her tongue out so 
 
 she can't talk, and the thing is settled. Chainitja died of 
 apoplexy a few days ago ; so there is no fear of the thing 
 being found out.' 
 
 " Do you comprehend my position, Andronike ? I do not 
 say or imagine that the general would do anything of the 
 kind. Nevertheless I must add that in our present posi- 
 tion it is better to wear a man's clothes than a woman's." 
 
 " I thank you, dear, and I understand/' said Andronike, 
 kissing her. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE INN OF GRAVIAS 
 
 Hardly had the golden beams of morning begun to 
 invade the thick darkness of the cavern, when the warlike 
 bugle sounded the reveille. Within fifteen minutes all had 
 gathered round their general Odysseus, who, twirling his 
 long moustache, examined with his piercing eyes the ranks 
 of his followers and at the same time gave a smile or a word 
 of encouragement to each. 
 
 Kyra R stood near him, armed to the teeth with 
 
 every sort of offensive weapon. Her arrogant air seemed 
 to indicate that she was disputing his place with the lieu- 
 tenant of Odysseus, Yannis Gouras, a man celebrated for 
 his valor. 
 
 Before the full rays of the sun had saluted Parnassus, all 
 were far from the cave. 
 
92 Andronike 
 
 The Inn of Gravias is situated on the crooked highway 
 which passes from Amphissa to Dadi, the ancient Drymaea. 
 Panourghias and Divouniotis were there, with about thir- 
 teen hundred soldiers. Not far from the Inn flows the 
 classic Cephissus, the river whose praises Homer and Pindar 
 have sung, and in whose transparent waters the contestants 
 for the prize of music at the Pythian games were wont to 
 baptize their flutes. 
 
 The other chiefs were in favor of holding the bridge, but 
 Odysseus proposed that one party should shut themselves 
 up in the Inn and the others draw up on the left and 
 right of the highway, thus cutting off the passage of the 
 Mussulmans. 
 
 The Inn was a court, surrounded by brick walls, in the 
 middle of which rose a flat-roofed house. 
 
 The daring proposition of Odysseus found no approval. 
 No soldier wished to shut himself up in an unprotected 
 enclosure, from which very likely no one would come out 
 alive. 
 
 " Are you afraid ? " shouted the son of Androutsos, in 
 stentorian tones. " Are there not a hundred pallikaris here 
 ready to die together inside this Inn ? Who is ready to 
 try it ? " He drew from his breast a white handkerchief, 
 embroidered by Diamanto,' and threw it into the air. 
 
 Taking up this handkerchief signified determination to 
 follow Odysseus. Whoever did so must then unfold his 
 own handkerchief in his left hand as in forming the 
 spiral dance of the Greeks. 
 
 Commanders, officers, soldiers, all hesitated. 
 
 "General, here am I," cried Andronike, on fire with 
 enthusiasm. " Here I am," she repeated, and, seizing the 
 handkerchief, she unfolded her own in her other hand. 
 
 " And here am I too," shouted Kyra K , seizing that 
 
 of Andronike and holding out her own to Yannis Gouras. 
 In a moment one hundred handkerchiefs floated in the air. 
 One hundred picked pallikaris in a continuous line, dancing 
 and singing a patriotic song, dashed through the low door 
 of the Inn. 
 
 Forthwith they closed all the doors so that no one could 
 go out. They opened loopholes in the walls, and along the 
 roof built parapets of brick behind which they were to 
 fight. The rest of the army fortified themselves on the 
 right and left of the highway. 
 
The Inn of Gravias 93 
 
 " I will fire first," said Odysseus, " but let nobody call 
 me by name. When the Albanians approach, then shout, 
 1 There is Odysseus ! Here comes Odysseus ! ' In that way 
 we shall frighten them, while, if anybody here calls me by 
 name, all their bullets will be aimed at me." 
 
 Soon afterwards Omer Brione with the Albano-Turkish 
 army appeared. Before coming within gunshot they halted 
 to pray. The astrologers according to custom sacrificed 
 sheep and oxen, and set up a green flag, around which the 
 khodjas loudly and many times intoned a chapter from the 
 Koran. Meanwhile criers passed through the ranks inflam- 
 ing them with the war-cry, " Ya Ghazi, Ya Schait," — Vic- 
 tory or a Martyr's Keward ! 
 
 Finally, with the shout "Allah! Allah!" the Turks 
 rushed upon Panourgias and Divouniotis. They, unable 
 to withstand the multitude, turned their backs and fled in 
 confusion. 
 
 The torrent of the Mussulmans was now directed against 
 the Inn. At their head rode an aged dervish holding a 
 handful of dust. As soon as he came within gunshot, he 
 threw the dust into the air, shouting, "Thus let the 
 giaours be scattered." 
 
 "Dervish, where are you going," called out Odysseus. 
 
 "Why are you hiding there, you giaours, you sneaking 
 giaours ! Now let us see whether your three-headed God 
 will rescue you from our hands." 
 
 Odysseus shook his long hair like a mane. He saw that 
 the Greeks outside had left them alone. " The Most High 
 help us, brothers," he cried, " against the infidels who so 
 insult his name." He shouted once more, " Dervish, ask 
 your Mohammed if he can save you from my ball. See 
 here ! " and he fired. The fanatical dervish rolled in the 
 dust. Then the rest began to fire. The Turks, on the death 
 of their holy man, dashed with blasphemous cries in a wild 
 onslaught against the Inn. Beating and pushing upon it 
 with their swords and fists and shoulders, they tried to break 
 down its walls. The slaughter was frightful. Twice they 
 made an assault and twice they left piles of dead. 
 
 " Captain Andronikos," said Odysseus, who stood on the 
 roof of the Inn, directing the fire of his soldiers, " do you 
 see those four cavaliers ? He in the middle with the red 
 mantle is Omer Brione. If you bring him down, I make 
 you my proto-pallikari." 
 
94 Andronike 
 
 " My ball will not go so far. If they only come a little 
 nearer, I will aim at him, general." 
 
 At the third attack two Mussulmans succeeded in climb- 
 ing the walls of the enclosure and planted their cres- 
 cent flag. Yannis Gouras stretched the first one dead 
 
 inside the Inn. The other, fighting with Kyra R , was 
 
 about to spring upon her, when the intrepid woman dealt 
 him a fearful blow and rolled him down outside the 
 enclosure. 
 
 The third attack was still going on when Andronike hit 
 the aide-de-camp of Omer Brione. Thinking their com- 
 mander slain, the Turks began to retreat in confusion. 
 Almost insane with rage at the cowardice of his soldiers, 
 Omer Brione, reviling and cursing them, ordered another 
 assault. This last was the most destructive of all, and 
 again were they forced to retire. They could not stand 
 the fire of Odysseus ; and, moreover, the Turks think it 
 unlucky to fight after sunset. 
 
 If Panourgias and Divouniotis had then come up with 
 a few soldiers, Odysseus would have been able to complete 
 his success ; but those commanders were no more to be seen, 
 and his ammunition was already exhausted. 
 
 That night he and his pallikaris discussed how they could 
 evacuate the Inn. The Turks were beyond gunshot, buried 
 in sleep. 
 
 " Brothers," said Andronike, u we have fought like true 
 pallikaris ; yet if we stay here till morning, not one of 
 us will survive. Our powder is finished, and Omer Brione 
 has without doubt sent for cannon. Our swords are our 
 only refuge. Let us go out and pass through the midst of 
 the sleeping Turks." 
 
 " Yes," said the warlike Odysseus. Kneeling with his 
 comrades, he implored divine aid. Then he drew his 
 yataghan and removed some bricks, opening a new door 
 opposite the other. " Wait," he said, " till we see if they 
 are not on the watch at the other side." 
 
 Taking a soldier's cloak, he threw it outside through the 
 hole he had cut, making it look as if a soldier were leaping 
 down. Then he threw out a second, and afterward a third. 
 On seeing that the Turks did not fire, and hence judging 
 that they were nowhere near, he ordered his pallikaris to 
 leave the house. Odysseus was the last to spring from the 
 wall. Running with tireless energy from one end of the 
 
Vasileios Caravias 95 
 
 line to the other, he put new life into his soldiers, who 
 plodded on, hidden in the tall reeds. 
 
 " Let every one make two or three torches of the reeds," 
 said Odysseus to his men. " That will make the Turks 
 run." 
 
 The enemy, suddenly wakened from sleep, thought that 
 a host of Greeks and not the soldiers from the Inn were 
 upon them. They could not imagine that it was only those 
 few. Panic-stricken in the darkness, they turned their 
 weapons against each other, and then lied far to the north. 
 
 At dawn, two hours later, Odysseus, pale, and smeared 
 with blood, reached a village. Counting over his band, he 
 found that two were wounded and two missing. The latter 
 were Athanasios Castanis and Athanasios Zacharis. Surely 
 they who met so glorious a death are worthy of mention 
 here. 
 
 Coal-black from powder smoke, the survivors fell on their 
 knees and thanked the Holy Trinity for their marvellous 
 deliverance. 
 
 Then Odysseus directed Andronike to return to the Cory- 
 cian Cave and give his wife the details of the victory. 
 
 She set out at once, and reported all that had been done. 
 Then, taking with her Diamanto, she hurried to Galaxidi. 
 There she obtained a few letters of recommendation, hired 
 a small vessel, and sailed away to Scio. 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 VASILEIOS CARAVIAS 
 
 Warmly as Thrasyboulos loved Andronike, his mind at 
 first seemed paralyzed by the tragical events at Constanti- 
 nople, and he was unable to properly estimate the dangers 
 which his betrothed might be undergoing in the Peloponne- 
 sus. After he had left Odessa and begun his journey to 
 Alexander Ypsilantis, he thought of her with feverish 
 anxiety. He could receive no letters from her, for postal 
 communication with the Peloponnesus, always difficult, had 
 now entirely ceased. 
 
 Everything at the camp of the insurgents was discourag- 
 ing. The commander by his incapacity had thrown away 
 
96 Andronike 
 
 every chance of success. Officers and soldiers were alike 
 insolent and insubordinate, a scourge to the regions through 
 which they passed. An exception to the general demorali- 
 zation was the Sacred Legion, a band of four hundred young 
 men, members of the finest Greek families and almost all 
 educated in Europe. 
 
 They were encamped opposite the little Wallachian town 
 of Dragatzana, which was held by the Turks. On the even- 
 ing of June seventh several captains of the Legion were 
 seated near Thrasyboulos, while the rain fell in torrents 
 outside the tent, and were listening attentively as he told 
 them about the massacres at Constantinople. 
 
 Demetrios Soutsos, a tall and handsome man, seemed 
 especially interested in the story. " How did you fall into 
 such straits, Thrasyboulos ? " he remarked, as the former 
 ceased speaking. " Are your father and mother alive ? 
 Your face shows what you have passed through." 
 
 " How have I fallen into such straits ! When a branch 
 is broken off from the trunk, the torrent may carry it any- 
 where. You ask if I have parents. I hope so, but again 
 who knows ! In a moment now one loses all he has." 
 
 "You are right. We are sure of nothing to-day except 
 revenge and patriotism." 
 
 "Mention patriotism only, captain. If the barbarians 
 will leave us free, our Gospel will not ask for revenge." 
 
 "In fact," added Spiridon Dracoulis, "we are in a dif- 
 ferent position from most of the Greeks who have risen 
 against the Turks. We have lived in Europe and we have 
 seen how the Greek is despised there as a slave. What 
 does the word Greece now mean to Europeans ! We alone, 
 gentlemen, must regenerate the fatherland ; otherwise, let 
 us cease to breathe." 
 
 " Yours are noble words, my friend. I have two younger 
 brothers, who are studying at Paris," said Demetrios 
 Soutsos, calmly. " Yesterday I wrote them the following 
 letter. See how fully I sympathize with your ideas. My 
 brothers are poets and, if we die, be assured they will throw 
 some few laurels and roses on our graves. 
 
 " My very dear Brothers, — From all parts of our ancient 
 monarchy about three hundred of us have come together, yester- 
 day the disciples of the gymnasium and to-day disciples of liberty. 
 Has Providence foreordained that the boundary line of the future 
 Greek nation should be written in our blood 1 
 
Vasileios Caravias 97 
 
 " Would that we might descend as conquerors to the Bosphorus 
 and re-erect the throne of the last Palaiologos, who was endowed 
 with all the .virtues of his ancestors, and who in the purple of his 
 tomb consecrated all their dust ! 
 
 " But if it is determined that we die upon this soil, write this 
 epitaph upon our grave, — 
 
 ' Here lie the three hundred of the new Sparta, 
 Indifferent whether their names are remembered or forgotten/ 
 
 " My brothers, my feet are blood-stained from marching for days ' 
 without shoes. I sleep in the woods and swamps, I live on dry 
 fruits and can rarely obtain bread, but these hardships of a soldier's 
 life give me pleasure. From my boyhood I have dreamed of the 
 emancipation of our people. It is sweet to live with free men and 
 with Greek brothers. Farewell. Will you ever see me again? 
 Shall I ever see you, and where ? God knows ! 
 " Your brother, 
 
 "Demetrios Soutsos. 
 
 "Dragatzana, June 6, 1821." 
 
 " A most pathetic letter. Bravo, captain ! " said Thra- 
 syboulos. "Your brothers will shed tears of enthusiasm. 
 They will read it to their French fellow students. This 
 bit of paper, written from the field of battle, will echo in 
 Paris." 
 
 " Truly an expressive letter ! " said the poet Spiridon 
 Dracoulis. "If one could collect all these letters which 
 fly to-day from city to city and mountain to mountain in 
 Turkey, they would form a book with which the sultan 
 might reform his people more quickly than with European 
 costumes. Listen to this fragment of a letter which a few 
 days ago I rescued from the flames. You remember that 
 our people captured a courier on the route from Constanti- 
 nople to Bucharest. You know they stripped him and 
 burnt all the papers he was carrying. See how pathetically 
 this letter is expressed. I am sorry that I could not save 
 the whole letter. It is written by a woman, a certain An- 
 dronike, from the mountains of Erymanthus in Achaia." 
 
 Thrasyboulos, who had given only distracted attention 
 to the captain's remarks, started at the name of the writer, 
 lifted his head, and with breathless anxiety awaited the 
 reading. 
 
 Spiridon Dracoulis began : — 
 
 "... and in spite of all this, dearest, I feel myself greater to- 
 day in my misfortune than I was yesterday in my happiness. 
 
98 Andronike 
 
 Since I lost my father and my brother, Thrasyboulos, 1 think only 
 of you and of the freedom of my country. My country ! My dar- 
 ling Greece 1 Blessed dream of my imagination ! I send thee a 
 tender caress from these lofty mountains of Erymanthus. Hail, 
 Elis, fatherland of Nestor, with thy sacred Olympia, glory of the 
 orators and historians. More than one new Hercules is preparing 
 to cleanse thee from Mussulman defilement. Achaia, Argolis, 
 Attica, and thou, hidden by the myrtle-clad Taygetus, mother of 
 Agesilaus, hail ! Ye lands, fountains of wisdom and virtue, send 
 your dewy breezes to the Seine and Thames. Remind the readers 
 of Homer and Plato that the children of those writers have seized 
 their arms and are struggling to break their chains. Who is there 
 in the world who w r ill not help us ! 
 
 " Forgive my wandering, Thrasyboulos. You know that I love 
 the land of my fathers as much as I do you yourself. My hard- 
 ships, my sorrows, my family misfortunes, and my future, as long 
 as my life lasts, are lit only by the hope of liberty and by my love 
 for you. But when night covers the earth with darkness and hides 
 from my eyes the fair horizon of Greece, when sleep lightly settles 
 upon my eyelids, then I have only you distinctly before me. The 
 tumults of my heart are appeased at your breath. My sheep feed 
 around us again, and my dogs keep watch. The nightingale sings 
 its elegies and the cricket chirps by the brooks, and again I am 
 happy as when with you I roamed over the slopes of Menalus and 
 the banks of the Ladon. But alas ! Where are those days now ! 
 Keep well, Thrasyboulos. I shall lead my ten pallikaris to Patras. 
 Circumstances will decide v> T hether I come to Constantinople to 
 find you or remain there. Keep well. Forgive, if you can, the 
 wretched Barthakas, the cause of all my troubles. Forgive the 
 scoundrel, for it belongs to the Lord alone to reward each one ac- 
 cording to his deeds. 
 
 "Andronike. 
 
 "March 23, 1821." 
 
 Each line of this letter tore the heart of Thrasyboulos 
 with anguish. At last he cried, " Andronike ! Sir, I beg 
 you, let me see the writing." He snatched the letter from 
 the hands of Dracoulis. " It is her own writing, it is her 
 own writing," he said with a broken voice. He pressed it 
 to his lips, kneeled down, and covered it with tears and 
 kisses. 
 
 " It is miraculous ! " exclaimed Soutsos. " It is his own 
 letter, and indeed it is written from the Peloponnesus to a 
 Thrasyboulos." 
 
 " She has lost her father and brother ! She writes from 
 the mountains of Erymanthus ! She wears a man's clothes ! 
 She is at the head of ten pallikaris ! She intends to come 
 
Vasileios Caravias 99 
 
 to Constantinople ! ... To forgive Barthakas ! . . . " 
 murmured Thrasyboulos, clutching the letter in his hands. 
 " I almost wish the flames had consumed this letter rather 
 than to have its dreadful sentences in my mind." 
 
 " Courage, Thrasyboulos ! Courage, my pallikari," said 
 Nicolas Ypsilantis. " The sufferings of the soul are more 
 painful than those of the body, but in our condition we 
 must support them both with the same manliness. Turn 
 and look at Dragatzana opposite. Consider the Turks who 
 are encamped there." 
 
 " You are right, sir. All our sufferings come from them. 
 It is they who have cut us off from our relatives and 
 friends." 
 
 Afterwards with much pathos he told the story of his 
 relations with Andronike. 
 
 They were listening to him in silence, all absorbed in 
 his description, when Vasileios Caravias, the former com- 
 mander of the Sacred Legion and now chief of artillery, 
 reeling with drunkenness, staggered into the tent. 
 
 " Thinking about something ! Close to the Turks and 
 not feeling well ! Got a quart from Bogdania which makes 
 a man feel as bold as if he had wings on his sides." 
 
 The comrades looked scornfully at their former com- 
 mander, whom they evidently despised, and remained 
 silent. 
 
 "Who knows, Caravias," said Nicolas Ypsilantis, with a 
 smile full of irony, " but you may become a great man to- 
 morrow ? " 
 
 " Without doubt. I took only a quart, and you see where 
 I am. Am I not the man who drove the Turks from Galatz, 
 before ever your brother the prince crossed the Pruth ? By 
 Bacchus, if I had taken two quarts ! I was terrible after I 
 drank, and I was like — " 
 
 "Noah," whispered Captain Soutsos. 
 
 " No," replied Caravias, with the utmost gravity. 
 
 "David, then, who when he felt well danced before 
 Joab." 
 
 " I was not dancing. I was cutting off heads," said Cara- 
 vias, pompously. 
 
 " Marcellus, then. He used to take a little." 
 
 " From what town was this Marcellus ? " asked Caravias, 
 with open-mouthed interest. 
 
 " From Rome." 
 
100 Andronike 
 
 " What ! You are making sport of me ! Why do you 
 compare me with the cardinals of Rome ? " 
 
 " Marcellus was a famous general," said Nicolas Ypsi- 
 lantis. 
 
 The soldiers of the Sacred Legion laughed at the dense 
 ignorance of the commander. 
 
 " I do not like the comparison/' said Caravias. " Don't 
 you know any one else of those great people, who took a 
 little?" 
 
 "Antony, Lucullus, Charlemagne, Julius Caesar, Alex- 
 ander the Great — " 
 
 " Ah! he is the man. I was like Alexander the Great. 
 My name will sound as loud as the great Alexander's. Ah, 
 my boys, why do you laugh ? You are only children with- 
 out beard and moustache, and came out of the nursery yes- 
 terday. No need for a man to be learned and to read little 
 books to become a great general. Let him only have a 
 mind and a brain. Laugh all you want," he added with in- 
 creasing anger. Staggering again, he left the officers. 
 
 Meanwhile Thrasyboulos studied the fragment of the 
 letter, trying anxiously to learn about his betrothed. 
 " Accursed fortune ! Accursed fate ! " he repeated over and 
 over again, and reviled his destiny. As he thought of the 
 death of the patriarch and of the persecution of the Chris- 
 tians, all his early religious faith seemed overturned. Satan 
 and evil were everywhere the masters. He began to doubt 
 his own existence. 
 
 Unconsciously he fell asleep. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE DREAM 
 
 Suddenly he found himself, naked, half-frozen, and fam- 
 ished, at the bottom of a dark deep well. His every groan 
 was re-echoed from the shaking sides of the well, which 
 threatened to fall upon his head. 
 
 All at once he heard a melodious voice. He lifted his 
 eyes and saw a thin, hoary-headed priest standing at the 
 edge of the well. There was something familiar about his 
 figure, yet he was unable to determine who it was. 
 
The Dream 101 
 
 "Rise," said the old man, and at the same time he found 
 himself in a scene of surpassing beauty. The sky was 
 richly colored ; magical trees bent overladen with luscious 
 fruits ; brooks rippled, and the notes of myriad birds 
 answered the whispering of the leaves. 
 
 In the side of a mighty mountain, whose summit was 
 crowned by silvery and golden clouds, shaded by forests and 
 by an overhanging rock, opened the mouth of a deep cave. 
 From this cave a sweet and balmy air was diff used over the 
 paradise. 
 
 The whole scene combined in an expression of perfect 
 bliss. 
 
 At a short distance from the priest, appeared a maiden 
 of divine beauty, of queenly height, with shining eyes and 
 a smile full of sweetness. 
 
 " Where am I ? " cried Thrasyboulos. 
 
 She saw him, and her cheeks crimsoned. 
 
 " Lead the stranger by the hand," said the priest to the 
 maiden. 
 
 Then she majestically approached and, taking his hand, 
 directed his steps toward a time-worn temple near them. 
 
 "I see magnificent tombs," said Thrasyboulos, "over- 
 turned statues, prostrate columns, ruins of churches and 
 cities, multitudes of shadows carrying breastplates, and I 
 see a great pit filled with bones, and a broad lake red with 
 clotted blood. On its bank rises a great cross." 
 
 " Descend," said the old man. At the same time two 
 pearly drops fell from his hollow eyes. "Behold thy 
 bridegroom, daughter of paradise," he said to the maiden. 
 " Behold thy bride, child of the darksome pit," turning to 
 Thrasyboulos. Then, clasping their two hands, " What 
 God has joined together, let not man put asunder," he added. 
 
 The ecstasy of Thrasyboulos was at its height. He was 
 about to throw himself into the arms of the maiden, when 
 the old man interrupted, saying to her, " Ascend to the sum- 
 mit of the mountain." 
 
 Her face sank upon her breast, but obediently she began 
 the journey. 
 
 " Follow," he said to Thrasyboulos, and led toward the 
 cave. 
 
 Darkness and smoke hung inside the cave. The path 
 was steep and difficult. Around them stood repulsive crea- 
 tures and noxious reptiles crawled at their feet. 
 
102 A ndronike 
 
 The cave, which sent forth such dewy breezes, was a place 
 of heaviest punishment. 
 
 Tombs lay scattered over its vast floor. 
 
 At these tombs scantily clad men were seated, holding the 
 cross and the Bible. Some were buried in its perusal. 
 Others conversed, walking with slow steps. Most of them 
 were bald, with high foreheads, on which age had already 
 left its furrows. 
 
 Above their heads shone a radiant light which penetrated 
 with its golden beams the otherwise unbroken gloom. 
 
 tl Who are those men ? " asked Thrasyboulos, with gasping 
 voice and burdened breast. 
 
 The old man touched his brow lightly, and replied : " The 
 thoughtful man, who soberly and sadly directs his gaze to- 
 ward all, is the Apostle Andrew, the first archbishop of 
 Byzantium. The man showing him deep wounds is the 
 patriarch Polycarp, who met with martyrdom under the 
 stoic emperor Marcus Aurelius. The five old men who stand 
 erect and are conversing with one another are the five chief 
 orators of the Church, Gregory the Theologian, Basil the 
 Great, John Chrysostom, Eugenios Boulgaris, and Athanasius 
 the Great, the eloquent vanquisher of Arius. Those reading 
 on the marble tombs are Eusebius, Timotheus, Ignatius, 
 Kyril, Nicephorus, Sophronius, and other patriarchs of the 
 Great Church." 
 
 As the travellers passed through their midst, the young 
 man was astonished at beholding all the fathers rise and 
 make a deep reverence to his venerable guide. 
 
 They advanced still farther into the cave. The way be- 
 came more rugged and steep. It climbed up narrow and 
 short steps hewn in the cliffs. Had the human foot slipped 
 on one of these, one would have fallen into an unknown 
 abyss. 
 
 The darkness became still more palpable. The ghostly 
 horrors multiplied, and the air grew more stifling and op- 
 pressive. The old man ascended with a firm step, without 
 fatigue. In a strong voice he counted the steps and guided 
 Thrasyboulos by the hand. The latter was deathly sick, his 
 knees trembled, and he followed with gasping breath. 
 
 " Where are the years of your youth, that you are not 
 able to follow me ? " asked the old man. " We have climbed 
 one thousand one hundred and forty steps." He wiped the 
 cold perspiration which stood out on his forehead. 
 
The Dream 103 
 
 A dim light from some unknown source here relieved the 
 darkness of the cave. Thrasyboulos then saw crowds of 
 men, women, and children, attired in robes of rarest and 
 costliest magnificence. Groans, piercing laments, and heart- 
 rending shrieks ran along their ranks. It was a veritable 
 place of mourning. 
 
 " Do you see yonder group of three pale women, who are 
 always sad, and down whose cheeks the tears never cease 
 flowing ? That fair and slender woman with the small, 
 evasive, but beautiful eyes, who wears an elegant tiara and 
 a robe reaching to her feet, is the Empress Theodora, the 
 wife of Justinian the Great. An actress, she ascended 
 the throne. In order to satisfy her splendor and her 
 love of glory, she oppressed and persecuted countless 
 Christians. 
 
 "She with her hair in heavy plaits and adorned with 
 precious pearls, with a laurel-crown upon her head, and 
 the swanlike neck and masculine features, is the Empress 
 Eudoxia. She was the consort of the feeble Arcadius, 
 and herself the cruel and relentless persecutor of John 
 Chrysostom. 
 
 "The one who stands by her side and tramples on a 
 sickly boy is the hard-hearted Irene. The unnatural mother, 
 after she had by every shameful means corrupted her own 
 son, at last blinded him, slew him, and usurped his throne. 
 The boy is her sightless son, Constantine VI. 
 
 " That is Andronikos," added the old man, pointing to a 
 man who stood near a corpse, with his fingers clutching the 
 long hair of the dead. " See how he gloats over the remains 
 of his brother Manuel, whom he murdered on account of 
 rivalry in love. It is that same incapable emperor who 
 allowed the Turks to advance to Brousa and to plant their 
 red flag at Nicomedia opposite Constantinople. 
 
 "The man near him, who is writing and wears a monkish 
 dress, is the vile Cantacouzenos. Bosom friend and ally of 
 the Turks, after he had married his daughter to their chief- 
 tain, Orchan, he repented and withdrew to Mount Athos, 
 where he replaced his royal purple by the cowl. There he 
 wrote bulky volumes against the religion of the Mussul- 
 mans, whom formerly he had so much loved and whom he 
 had led to destroy the capital of his ancestors." 
 
 Thrasyboulos listened, and followed mechanically in pain- 
 ful silence. 
 
104 A ndronike 
 
 "We are now at the most odious part of the cave," 
 observed the priest. 
 
 For a long time they walked on up a narrow path, enclosed 
 on either side by towering walls, full of sulphurous smoke, 
 crowded with grisly forms which they brushed aside in order 
 to proceed. The way mounted three hundred and sixty-eight 
 steps. At each the plaintive echo of a bell was heard, 
 pealing out horror upon horror. 
 
 Finally they reached a brighter spot, where the air was 
 clearer and shone with rosy colors like the northern light. 
 
 Thrasyboulos felt as if reborn, but the old man was sad 
 and utterly exhausted. Extreme pallor covered his face. 
 
 Before them rose two spacious gates. 
 
 At the foot of one sat a man, grievously wounded, of about 
 fifty years, wearing a diadem upon his head, dressed in 
 purple and grasping a sword. Near him lay seven headless 
 bodies, on which were written the words "Righteous art 
 thou, O Lord." 
 
 A savage and stern -looking man, with a thick hooked 
 nose, and heavy moustache and beard, surrounded by guards, 
 was stretched in front of a table loaded with wines and 
 various viands. He was gazing with satisfaction at a silver 
 platter offered him by a tall eunuch and containing the 
 seven heads of the dismembered corpses. 
 
 The other gate, with square and circular columns of verd- 
 antique, with sculptures of flowers and foliage, with statues 
 of animals, cupids, winged steeds, and trophied men and 
 women, was more lifelike than any work of Prometheus. 
 
 " We have reached our journey's end," said the old man. 
 "This is the Golden Gate of Constantinople. Through it 
 formerly Theodosius entered, drawn by elephants. Through 
 it Belisarius carried in the spoils, which he had won from 
 the Goths and Vandals. Through it the veteran Heraclios 
 made a triumphal entry in a four-horse chariot, when re- 
 turning a conqueror from Persia. How magnificent it is ! 
 
 " The other is the Gate of Saint Romanos. The wounded 
 monarch is Constantine XIII Palseologos, the last Greek 
 sovereign of Constantinople. Do you mark how sublimely 
 he falls under the battlements of his stormed capital? The 
 seven bodies are those of the Duke Notaras and of his house, 
 and it is their heads which are offered on a silver dish to 
 the revelling Mohammed II, the conqueror of the cit}^. 
 How Christian was the death of the unhappy Notaras ! As 
 
The Dream 105 
 
 the executioner struck off the heads of his children, one 
 after the other, as each fell, he exclaimed, \ Righteous art 
 thou, O Lord.' 
 
 " That is your road, my son," said the old man, pointing 
 to the Golden Gate. " Mine is that of Saint Romanos. I 
 shall easily pass through mine, but you after many a month 
 and no small labor and pain will enter yours." Thus hav- 
 ing spoken, he vanished. 
 
 Thrasyboulos approached the Golden Gate, and his soul 
 was transported with delight. 
 
 It seemed to him that he was then a man of past ages, 
 inhabiting a world that had disappeared but which memory 
 was restoring with vivid reality. Outside the Golden Gate 
 Athens lay revealed in its ancient beauty, with perfect art 
 as its inhabitant. He met Phidias, Scopas, Praxiteles, and 
 Lysippus, those inspired sculptors who converted marble 
 into flesh and blood. He listened to Pindar, who from a 
 heart full of religious sentiment poured forth lofty poems. 
 He listened to JEschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, as on 
 the human stage with courage and genius they portrayed 
 gods and titans and the throes of nature. He heard Aris- 
 tophanes, fearlessly lashing and holding to popular scorn 
 the Cleons and the unbridled mob of the democracy. He 
 caught the oratory of Demosthenes, Antiphon, and Lysias. 
 He saw the divine Plato and the wise Socrates, forerunners 
 of the ethics of the gospel, preparing in their day the people 
 of Greece for Christianity. 
 
 Enthusiastic, he was about to spring upon the glorious 
 theatre, whose curtain rose before him, when a sharp cry 
 pierced his ears like a lance. Trembling he turned and 
 saw the priest, his fellow traveller, and twenty other aged 
 men clad in priestly robes, dragged along by a savage and 
 filthy mob. 
 
 Instantly he left the Golden Gate and hurried to that of 
 Saint Romanos, where the crowd had gathered. Yet before 
 he reached it, the priest and his companions had been 
 strangled and were hanging from the golden-leaved and 
 silver-fruited trees. 
 
 He fainted at the spectacle. 
 
 When at last he came to himself, he could not tell how 
 long he had lain insensible. He was no longer in the cave. 
 He stood on the mountain top with his guide and the other 
 priests and the maiden of paradise. 
 
106 Andronike 
 
 The air of earth was dark and misty compared with 
 what he now was breathing. Its sweetest odors were in- 
 sipid beside the fragrance here. No light of sun or moon 
 or stars shone upon the mountain. Yet imagination in- 
 vested every object with the colors which would give the 
 soul delight, and all became visible in aesthetic beauty. The 
 trumpets of ten thousand angels poured upon the ear 
 celestial melodies. 
 
 It was the mountain of virtue. 
 
 The old man approached Thrasyboulos. "Yesterday," 
 he said, " while you were encamped in front of the enemy 
 of the cross, many times you cursed your birth and destiny. 
 Do you know me ? " he added. 
 
 Thrasyboulos gazed at the priest, and by degrees he rec- 
 ognized the countenance of the martyred patriarch. He 
 looked upon the maiden and she was Andronike. The 
 others were the bishops and the clergy who met their tragic 
 death with the patriarch Gregory. 
 
 "Whatever I have made visible to you, within or without 
 the cave, is your destiny," said the prelate. "And your 
 destiny, though so brilliant, you have cursed ! The dark 
 well out of which I drew you was but your poor and use- 
 less life. Its walls, shaking above your head, were the two- 
 edged blade of the Ottoman, from which you have been 
 ransomed and under which so many of your fellows have 
 succumbed in silence. 
 
 " Your destiny united you with Andronike. With her 
 you travelled over the glorious mountains of the past, the 
 sacred ruins of its altars and temples, its secret groves and 
 trampled cities. 
 
 " The lake of blood with its great cross and the pit of 
 bones were fashioned from the hosts of Christians who in 
 four centuries have been smitten by the sword of the Mus- 
 sulman. You beheld lake and pit because your destiny 
 blessed you with learning and did not force you to die igno- 
 rant and brutish like unnumbered buried sons of Greece, 
 who, born in the gloomy years of their servitude, did not 
 know what the land was which they trod, nor who their 
 ancestors were. 
 
 " You were separated from this maiden as soon as you 
 were betrothed. After many dangers and afflictions she 
 reached this mountain, which is the ' Mount of Virtue.' 
 
 " You followed me within the cave, whose mouth poured 
 
The Dream 107 
 
 forth such delicious breezes. Thus your destiny brought 
 you to Constantinople to me. That strange city, where the 
 Bosphorus sends down its refreshing winds, is a place of 
 punishment. The darkness and black smoke were typical 
 of the city's ignorance and barbarism. And yet even here 
 are found the tombs of many church fathers, theologians, 
 and patriarchs. Their shades saluted me as we passed, for 
 they knew that I was to climb the scaffold as a martyr to 
 religion and freedom. 
 
 " With me you mounted eleven hundred and forty steps 
 with great labor and trembling knees and utter exhaustion, 
 while I appeared more accustomed to the climbing. Those 
 steps are each a year in the life of this illustrious See whose 
 history I taught you. I remember with how much emotion 
 you listened and how much pain you experienced. This 
 history showed you that the corruption of emperors resulted 
 in the corruption of the people and the loss of the empire 
 of the great Constantine. Here your destiny showed you 
 eye to eye that we suffer justly, because when we were 
 mighty we did not know how to preserve our greatness but 
 gave ourselves up to the Turks. 
 
 " I taught you next the story of three hundred and sixty- 
 eight years under Turkish rule. The darkness of ignorance 
 here appeared more opaque, fanaticism revelled in tortures, 
 and the floor was strewn with its corpses, over which we 
 trod in order to advance. 
 
 " Each year of this history rises an arch of agony before 
 the Greek. As often as he passes through, like a mournful 
 bell, it tolls in his ears that he is a slave. 
 
 " Then you saw, at the threshold of this history, in the 
 dim light formed by the twilight of the Byzantine Empire 
 and the mist of approaching Islam, the two pre-eminent 
 gates of Constantinople, the Golden Gate and that of Saint 
 Komanos. 
 
 "While an inmate of the patriarchate, your only occupa- 
 tion was the study of the sculptors, the poets, the dramatists, 
 the orators and philosophers of famous Athens. 
 
 " Your enthusiasm became so excited that, when our holy 
 struggle began, you fancied a single step would carry you 
 back to the illustrious city. You thought that in a few 
 seconds Greece, vitalized from her ashes, could spring with 
 one bound to the epoch of Pericles. You did not heed my 
 words, <I shall easily pass through the Gate of Saint 
 
108 Andronike 
 
 Romanos, but you after many a month and no small pain 
 and labor will enter the Golden Gate. 7 
 
 " And verily ! In an instant you saw me and all the 
 priests meeting our fate at Constantinople like the Grand 
 Duke JSotaras. The spectacle awakened you, and removed 
 you far from that triumphal portal which you counted on 
 entering with a step. Thus did you quit Constantinople 
 and begin the long, painful, and perilous path of the 
 insurrection. 
 
 " Such is your destiny which you in your anguish cursed. 
 To you it was dark and lowering, and yet it was as bright 
 as the early morn before your birth. You thought your 
 life-road was rough and uneven, and yet it was smooth and 
 ennobling, for with instruction I had made it plain before 
 you. I myself led you by the hand to the sacrament. Oh, 
 man ! To what everlasting punishment you exposed your 
 soul when, after a careless glance at the inexplicable mani- 
 festations of the divine will, your faith tottered." 
 
 At the words of the sainted Gregory Thrasyboulos was 
 overwhelmed with shame and confusion. He sought to 
 clasp and kiss his feet ; but the patriarch, the priests, and 
 Andronike were already vanishing into the golden air. 
 
 Frenzied, he sprang to reach them. In his excitement he 
 awoke and found himself convulsively grasping the sword 
 which had been blessed for him in the bostandji prison. 
 
 The great stone which formed his pillow was wet with 
 tears and perspiration. An awful thunderbolt struck that 
 moment not far from the tent. All that night the rain fell 
 in torrents. He rose suddenly, threw himself on his knees, 
 and with sincere repentance offered a long and fervent 
 prayer. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE BATTLE OF DRAGATZANA 
 
 The early morning brought tidings of two events to the 
 Sacred Legion. These were the heartrending death of 
 Diakos and the splendid resistance of Odysseus at the Inn 
 of Gravias. How was Thrasyboulos to know that in both 
 these battles his betrothed had been a brave soldier ? 
 
The Battle of Dragatzana 109 
 
 Dragatzana, a village of Little Wallachia, is situated in 
 the midst of a vine-covered valley, near the cities of Cra- 
 jova and Rimnik. In this village were encamped eight 
 hundred Turks under the command of Kara Pheiz, a formi- 
 dable soldier, a chieftain of the mountains of Giustandil. 
 Toward the south rises a hill surrounded by a deep swamp. 
 This hill was held by a detachment of Greeks. 
 
 The Sacred Legion lay encamped on the bank of a small 
 stream that flows southward from the village and not far 
 from the crossing of the highways between Crajova and 
 Rimnik. 
 
 Vasileios Caravias with five hundred horse protected its 
 flanks. 
 
 Alexander Ypsilantis had reached Rimnik. His army 
 comprised forty-five hundred foot and twenty-five hundred 
 horse. From them he had detached the Sacred Legion and 
 a few other troops to hold certain positions at Dragatzana 
 until he could arrive and direct the battle. 
 
 Beside the eight hundred Turks in Dragatzana, two 
 thousand had advanced from Widin and were devastating 
 Little Wallachia, while they held the monasteries of Stre- 
 zesti, Stanzesti, and Manuel. 
 
 Also eight thousand more had left Bucharest, and in two 
 divisions were marching to oppose Prince Ypsilantis. 
 
 Constant rains had for many days made the roads im- 
 passable and prevented the junction of the troops. There- 
 fore the different bodies of Greeks who had been sent to the 
 environs of Dragatzana only arrived in detachments one after 
 the other about dawn of the twenty-first of June. 
 
 The same day Ypsilantis quitted Rimnik with the van- 
 guard, consisting of two thousand soldiers, and set out for 
 Dragatzana. 
 
 Vasileios Caravias, after leaving the captains of the 
 Sacred Legion, returned intoxicated to his tent, and fell 
 fast asleep. 
 
 The night was dark, rain fell in torrents, and almost 
 incessant lightning alternated with the peals of thunder. 
 A little before dawn a terrific noise was heard. The op- 
 posite bank of the ravine, which was covered with tall 
 trees, had been struck by the thunderbolt that had aroused 
 Thrasyboulos. The crash also awoke the commander of 
 artillery. He rubbed his eyes and called his aide, a tall 
 Servian named Diamantis, who was fast asleep near him. 
 
110 Andronike 
 
 " What a vile night ! Diamantis, I am afraid that the 
 Turks are escaping from Dragatzana. I believe they will 
 run away." 
 
 " They will not run away, general," said the Servian. 
 "They are waiting for reinforcements. Besides, the roads 
 are deep with mud and the rivers are freshets. At any 
 rate, they cannot go far before we overtake them." 
 
 " Light a candle. I want to see if the rain has got 
 through the boxes and wet our powder." 
 
 Diamantis lit a candle. Its faint light revealed a small 
 tent dripping with water and two or three pack-saddles in- 
 side. On them boxes were fastened, containing all the am- 
 munition of the four cannon which constituted the artillery, 
 and which were outside and close to the tent. Also inside, 
 peacefully munching in a basket which served as a manger, 
 were the three mules that carried the ammunition. 
 
 " Ah ! The rain has improved the powder," said Cara- 
 vias. " Bring the light nearer." 
 
 The Servian approached slightly, though holding the 
 candle at a distance from the powder. 
 
 " Put the light nearer, I tell you," said the commander 
 of artillery, meanwhile opening the boxes to see if the 
 powder was wet. 
 
 Diamantis knew his master was drunk, and put out the 
 light. 
 
 "What are you doing, you blockhead!" 
 
 " The wind did it, general." 
 
 " It was your fault. Light it again." 
 
 The Servian remained immovable in the darkness. 
 
 " What are you doing, you fool ? Hurry up ! Have n't 
 you lit it yet ? " 
 
 " I can't find my tinder-box." 
 
 " Take mine, then." 
 
 Very reluctantly the servant lit the candle. 
 
 u Oh, glory ! The dampness has not hurt the powder," 
 said Caravias, taking a cartridge from the box and holding 
 it near the candle. 
 
 "For God's sake, general, do not hold the cartridge so 
 near the light. I am not afraid for my life, but for yours, 
 my master." 
 
 " What is the matter, you scoundrel ! Don't you know 
 wet powder doesn't take fire? If you say so, I will put 
 the whole candle in the middle and it won't take fire." 
 
The Battle of Dragatzana 111 
 
 * I believe you, general, I believe you ! " 
 
 " Look here," said Caravias, and, taking the candle from 
 the hands of the Servian, he put it inside the box. 
 
 The servant watched him. Well acquainted with the 
 mulish obstinacy of his master, he crossed his arms and 
 silently waited during the horrible moments while he was 
 examining the contents of the box. 
 
 " Now let us go and look after the cannon," said Cara- 
 vias, leading the way from the tent. 
 
 These four wretched six-pounders were on rotten carriages 
 and drenched with water. 
 
 "Don't be anxious. They are only wet. Cold and rain 
 do not do any harm. Put fire inside, and then see how 
 they will grow red and growl ! Now, Diamantis, bring me 
 something good to eat, and get some wine too ; " and he 
 gave minute details of what he wanted. 
 
 About dawn two hours later Vasileios Caravias and three 
 under-officers were sitting round the table and getting drunk 
 over the meal which the Servian Diamantis had provided. 
 
 " See here," said Caravias, " those little princes, those 
 Ypsilantis, are well enough for Phanar, but not for war. 
 They don't understand the Turks. No need of all this 
 preparation. Go straight ahead, and, if there are only ten 
 of you, a thousand of them will run. Stand to your feet, I 
 say, boys, and get rid of those fellows of the Sacred Legion. 
 Yesterday they were at school, and to-day they have begun 
 to be your officers. Come with me and let us take Dragat- 
 zana. We are five hundred, and there are eight hundred 
 Turks. Just the right proportion." 
 
 " Don't let us disobey the orders of the commander, Cap- 
 tain Caravias," said one. "To-day he is expected. He 
 will direct the battle himself. He is a good general. He 
 showed it on the plains of Dresden, where he lost an 
 arm." 
 
 " Many thanks ! He may be a good general, my dear, 
 where they fight in regular fashion, but he does not know 
 how to handle pallikaris. Here, where it is all done with 
 gun and sword, there is a better general. Come, let us 
 cross the bridge and rush on the village like the wolves 
 we are." Caravias rose as he spoke. 
 
 "General, to-day is Tuesday. You know what a day 
 Tuesday is to the Christians," said Diamantis. 
 
 "What business is it of yours, you animal! Tuesday 
 
112 Andronike 
 
 and Wednesday are all one for fighting. Our ancestor 
 Alexander the Macedonian went into powder knowing 
 what he was about. What kind of a man was he ! Alex- 
 ander was a man with eyes and ears and brains, just like 
 us, and he knew how to take advantage of an opportunity." 
 
 They had not decided whether to follow him or not, 
 when the news of the battles at Thermopylae and Gravias 
 reached their quarters. 
 
 "That's the talk," added Caravias. "We'll take the 
 village quick. If you won't follow, I will go alone. 
 Diamantis, saddle my horse." 
 
 The servant obeyed the command of his master, who on 
 horseback at the head of his five hundred soldiers crossed 
 the little bridge over the ravine and advanced toward 
 Dragatzana. 
 
 On the way he met the brave general Georgaki 
 Olympios, who was posting detachments in the strong 
 places on the outskirts of the village. 
 
 " Where are you going, general ? " he asked. 
 
 " Where Alexander the Macedonian went, — right ahead." 
 
 "For God's sake, don't attack the Turks until Alexander 
 Ypsilantis comes. He is expected every minute." 
 
 "I am Alexander," proudly replied the drunken Cara- 
 vias. " I am Ypsilantis. That 's why I am sitting on my 
 Arab steed. Good-by, Captain Georgaki, good-by." 
 
 "Only one word more, Captain Vasileios. Wait! To- 
 day is Tuesday, an unlucky day for Christians." 
 
 Caravias muttered something indistinctly, and drove his 
 broad, sharp stirrup into the flanks of his horse. He 
 reeled as it bounded forward. His five hundred soldiers 
 followed, dragging the four miserable guns. 
 
 In addition to the Turks shut up in Dragatzana, there 
 were many others at the monastery of Serpanesti three 
 quarters of an hour distant. Against this monastery 
 Caravias directed his march. 
 
 As the enemy in the village saw the advance of Caravias, 
 they were in terror, thinking that the entire Greek army was 
 rushing to battle. At first they set the houses of the village 
 on fire, and expected to flee to the Mussulmans shut up in 
 the other monasteries. However they soon saw that the 
 cannon of Caravias did no harm, and that the other Greeks 
 did not come to his assistance. Meanwhile all the Turks 
 arrived who had been previously stationed in the other 
 
The Battle of Dragatzana 113 
 
 monasteries, and in one overwhelming mass they rushed 
 sword in hand against him. 
 
 The contemptible, drunken artillery officer then awoke 
 to the danger. An under officer who was stationed close by 
 ran to inform the Sacred Legion. 
 
 Nicolas Ypsilantis, a very young man, was moved with 
 compassion. Without reflection he got together the Sacred 
 Legion, which at that moment was scattered among the 
 cherry-trees, and hurried to the rescue. 
 
 It was then about eleven o'clock. The incessant rain 
 completely concealed the sun. The fields, the vineyards, 
 and the roads were a mass of mud. By the time the 
 soldiers of the Sacred Legion reached the battlefield, they 
 were worn out and disheartened, and in vain tried to form a 
 square. Moreover, it was the first time they had been 
 exposed to an enemy's fire. The whole fury of the Turkish 
 horse fell upon them, for the accursed Caravias and his 
 soldiers had already fled. Soon the Greeks, separated 
 from one another, were engaged in unequal hand-to-hand 
 combats. 
 
 Thrasyboulos fought with a gigantic Turkish Albanian, 
 but neither of them was able to gain any advantage. At 
 last his antagonist said : " Let us make a truce. You are 
 a real pallikari, you Greek, and I do not wish to kill 
 you." 
 
 " There can be no truce between a Greek and a Turk," 
 replied Thrasyboulos ; and he redoubled his blows. 
 
 Ten times they crossed their swords with a clang. Ten 
 times, in their different languages , they shrieked oaths of 
 rage. Ten times their horses crashed their steaming flanks 
 against each other, and with excitement like that of their 
 riders neighed and tossed their heads. 
 
 The weighty turban of the Albanian had fallen off. His 
 shaven head with its little tuft of hair upon the top 
 glistened in the air, while the long chestnut hair of 
 Thrasyboulos floated over his shoulders. 
 
 They came to closer quarters. Each clutched at the 
 other, and Thrasyboulos grasped his adversary by the 
 throat. 
 
 "Now look out, giaour!" gasped the half-suffocated 
 Albanian, letting his sword fall to the ground and endeav- 
 oring to draw his yataghan from his girdle. 
 
 Quick as thought, Thrasyboulos also dropped his sword. 
 
 8 
 
114 Andronike 
 
 Drawing his left foot from the stirrup, he leaped upon 
 the horse of the Albanian from behind. He wound his 
 arms around the body of his terrible foe, and held the 
 hand which was seeking the yataghan. Meanwhile he 
 buried his teeth in his naked throat and tore at him like a 
 tiger. 
 
 The Mussulman drove his sharp stirrups into the sides 
 of his horse, vainly trying to make the animal rear and 
 throw them both to the ground. As the pain became 
 unendurable, he let go the hilt of his yataghan and raised 
 his hand to his neck. 
 
 The Greek seized the advantage, himself snatched the 
 yataghan, and planted its point on the breast of his 
 antagonist. 
 
 " Take me prisoner, Christian. Do not kill me," cried 
 the Albanian, ceasing from all resistance. 
 
 " Wait ! " said Thrasyboulos. Then he disarmed the 
 Albanian and bound him with his long girdle. On dis- 
 mounting he kept the bridle and the ends of the girdle 
 in his hands. Then the Albanian likewise dismounted, 
 astonishing his conqueror by his enormous size. 
 
 " A blood covenant. You have given me my life. Don't 
 take me with you, for some of your people will kill me." 
 
 " Do not be afraid. I promise you your life. I want to 
 exchange you for one of our people." 
 
 The Albanian followed in silence toward the farther part 
 of the field, where the tumult was louder and the smoke 
 more dense. 
 
 Suddenly four Turkish horsemen rode upon them. 
 Thrasyboulos stopped, made the sign of the cross, and drew 
 the pistols which he had again charged a little while 
 before. 
 
 " Hold ! " cried the Albanian, stepping in front as a 
 protection. " Let nobody trouble him ; " and he told them 
 how he owed him his life. The Turks allowed Thrasy- 
 boulos to pass unharmed. 
 
 " A blood covenant," said he to the Albanian \ and then, 
 embracing his prisoner according to custom, he set him at 
 liberty. 
 
 The cowardly Caravias and his soldiers having taken to 
 flight, the Sacred Legion was left to withstand alone the 
 shock of the Ottomans. 
 
 Children of unhappy parents, those immortal youths 
 
Christian or Mussulman 115 
 
 for four consecutive hours fought on with Greek valor. 
 One hundred and fifty died gloriously, their four captains 
 were slain, their standard-bearer Xenophon was captured 
 and beheaded before their eyes, and thirty of their number 
 taken prisoners ; but the remainder closed up in a slender 
 phalanx and withdrew from the field, still obstinately 
 exchanging blows with the barbarians. "Greeks do not 
 surrender easily," were the words which their broken voice 
 made immortal in the plains beyond the Danube. 
 
 The general Georgaki Olympios appeared at a distance. 
 The Turks saw that the number of the Greeks was increas- 
 ing, so, carrying off their prisoners, one flag, and two cannon, 
 and leaving five hundred of their own dead, about sunset 
 they returned to the village, astonished at their victory. 
 
 The great Alexander, the drunkard Caravias, disguised 
 in the clothes of a peasant, escaped to Austrian territory. 
 Never did he again appear on the theatre of the Greek 
 insurrection. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 CHRISTIAN OR MUSSULMAN 
 
 "This matter must be examined carefully. If you 
 really did lead the Laliots to the tower of Athanasiades, 
 and if you are the cause of the death of the demogeront, I 
 will hang you once for all to the highest fig-tree of Patras. 
 A Greek who in this crisis of the nation's life changes his 
 religion and betrays his benefactor, because he is unable to 
 satisfy an amorous passion, is capable of doing something 
 worse if possible. It is better to get rid of you now than 
 to have you commit a greater crime." 
 
 So spoke General Lontos to the outlawed Barthakas 
 in the presence of the other generals of Patras. He held 
 in his hand the letter of Andronike, in which she informed 
 him who she was and stated the reasons for her departure 
 from Patras. 
 
 Barthakas remained silent as if struck by lightning, and 
 stared at the ground. 
 
 "You do not answer, you dwarf. Was Andronike a man 
 or a woman ? " asked one of the captains. 
 
116 Andronike 
 
 "I never went in swimming with him to know," he 
 replied. 
 
 "How does it happen that you do not know what this 
 letter says ? " 
 
 " I know nothing about it." 
 
 "But you have yourself acknowledged that you were a 
 teacher in the tower." 
 
 " Am I denying it now ? " 
 
 " Was not Andronikos, then, the daughter of the demo- 
 geront ? He looked much like a woman." 
 
 " No, sir ! No, never ! It is a slander to compare that 
 bow-legged and insipid coxcomb with Andronike, who was 
 butchered before my eyes. If you had only seen my pupil ! 
 Everybody knew how beautiful she was." 
 
 " But how in the world," said Lontos, whose convictions 
 began to waver at his determined manner, "can this letter 
 give such definite details ? " 
 
 " How ! From the day I came here, what else have I 
 talked about except the tower and Andronike ? " 
 
 "But what does he gain by writing this letter, and why 
 does he flee ? " 
 
 " Do not examine the ' why/ general. There is disorder 
 and confusion to-day everywhere. How many strange 
 things you see during a war, and do you always ask why ? 
 Who knows but it was a crazy woman ? That Andronikos 
 must have been a woman, for his face and voice had some- 
 thing feminine, and his chest was rounded like a woman's. 
 Who knows if that woman did not have money, and she 
 must have had, for she wore much gold. Perhaps she 
 heard that the Spartan women before her went to war, and 
 wanted to imitate them, and so hired ten pallikaris and 
 came. Then, when she found that firearms are not like 
 the ancient weapons, she fled, and, to give a reason for her 
 flight, concocted the fable of this letter. Such things hap- 
 pen to one whom nature has treated unfairly. She saw 
 that I am dwarfish and bent and club-footed, so she said, 
 1 1 will put the blame on that hunchback. The generals 
 will threaten him and he will half die from fear. Then 
 the generals will laugh, and perhaps they will lock him up, 
 but they will not hurt him, for the generals are honorable 
 and just, and they will not decide to cut off a man's head 
 for no other cause than a bit of paper.' But whatever the 
 facts, little by little the truth will appear. You will recog- 
 
Christian or Mussulman 117 
 
 nize ray worth and my services, and you will esteem me. 
 There, gentlemen, I have laid bare my whole soul. If 
 there is one among all you upright men who can say that 
 he sees any fraud in this, then hang me at once." 
 
 Seeing that all the bystanders kept silent and appeared 
 half persuaded, he changed his tone and raised his hands 
 in appeal. " Can any one believe," he said, " that I, who 
 have lived so long near the kings and princes of England, 
 France, and Germany; that I, who have had so large a 
 share in preparing for the great undertaking of the insur- 
 rection; that I, who have already written to the great 
 people in Europe, and begged from them soldiers and finan- 
 cial aid — and you will see, gentlemen, that many will 
 come, ready to shed their blood on our soil — that I, I say, 
 only for the sake of a girl, would change my religion and 
 do such things ? " 
 
 "Nevertheless, sir, you were with the Laliots in the 
 citadel. How does that happen ? " 
 
 " I told you that the Laliots came to the tower, butchered 
 everybody, but took me prisoner. That romantic counter- 
 feit Andronikos fabricated all this letter exactly from my 
 unlucky story." 
 
 " I myself remember," said one of the soldiers, " that on 
 the very night when we captured you, Andronikos came to 
 your tent, and that there you had a violent quarrel. With 
 my own ears I heard you say, ' Reflect on your situation. 
 I will call my men.' Captain Andronikos replied, i It is 
 my situation truly, you monster, which prevents my giv- 
 ing you another lesson.' I heard no more of your conver- 
 sation, for you went away from the door and Captain 
 Andronikos came out in a rage." 
 
 Barthakas was in no way perplexed, though the soldier's 
 words fell on him like a hammer. 
 
 " What do you say to that ? " asked Lontos. 
 
 " It is true. Captain Andronikos did come to my tent, 
 but there was no quarrel nor misunderstanding. He came 
 for me to translate a letter which he was going to send to 
 London to Lord Box. Captain Andronikos knew him, as 
 also I had known him. I had broken bread with him a 
 hundred times in 1817, when he was travelling in Greece. 
 I remember that we talked loud, though it was late." 
 
 The commanders were impressed by the name of Lord 
 Box, a name which had often fallen on the Greek ear. 
 
118 Andronike 
 
 Unable to discover any signs of guilt on the face of 
 Barthakas, they gazed at each other. 
 
 "I judge it my duty to keep you under arrest for the 
 present. The truth must be discovered. The only means 
 I have is to send men inside the besieged citadel, who can 
 question the Laliots and find out if you did lead them to 
 the tower. If you are innocent, your rank shall be re- 
 stored. If you are guilty, a council of war shall decide 
 your punishment." 
 
 At a sign from the general, Barthakas was led away to 
 the guardhouse. 
 
 The wretched tutor passed all that night in fear and 
 utter despair. He did not imagine that General Lontos 
 would succeed in obtaining information from the Laliots 
 themselves. 
 
 When morning came, Barthakas was again led before the 
 General of Achaia and another large assembly of soldiers. 
 
 " All is true, if I am to believe Hamid, chief of the 
 Laliots. His story entirely agrees with the letter of An- 
 dronike. You are the most frightful monster which nature 
 ever brought forth. At three o'clock this afternoon the 
 council of war will judge you. I advise you to tell the 
 whole truth. That alone can mitigate your punishment." 
 
 "The truth," said Barthakas, curling his lip with a 
 savage smile, and crossing his hands on his breast. " Veritas 
 aliquanto, jus moritur nunquam," he added. 
 
 " Talk Greek, so we may understand you." 
 
 "Nothing — only the Latins say that truth sometimes, 
 but justice never, dies. Still, while it is sleeping, many 
 people lose their heads, and after it wakes up, no one is 
 able to replace them." 
 
 " That dwarf is a bag of wind," said one of the soldiers 
 near. "His languages stick out all over him." 
 
 " Listen now ! See how he speaks twenty-five different 
 languages ! " said another. 
 
 Their whispers did not escape the ears of Barthakas. 
 He began to come to himself and to feel encouraged. 
 
 " General, will you give me permission to tell you a 
 fable ? " he asked. 
 
 "Tell it," said Lontos. 
 
 "A stag was once pursued by hunters. In order to 
 escape, he ran into a cave where he found several lions. 
 Torn in pieces by their claws, he exclaimed, ' I escaped 
 
Christian or Mussulman 119 
 
 death at the hands of men to undergo a more cruel one 
 from the lions.' " 
 
 " You mean that you escaped from the Turks and fell 
 into the hands of the Greeks ? " 
 
 "I mean it, and it is so. For the Turks captured me 
 and did not put me to death. I escaped to you. Intrigues 
 and false accusations on the part of some, because they see 
 I am a learned man and shall get on in the world and shall 
 accomplish something, are likely to destroy me. What is 
 a court-martial worth, made up of ten or fifteen men who 
 know nothing of law and cannot sign their own names ? 
 What is the decision of men worth who obtain their prin- 
 cipal information from the testimony of Turks ? Any one 
 with brains could understand that the Turks have testified 
 against me so as to take revenge for my escape from them. 
 General, do whatever you like. I am a philosopher and I 
 make no account of my life. I know what the life of the 
 body is, and what the immortality of the soul means. But 
 do you yourself reflect that you are dipping your hands in 
 innocent blood. Nevertheless, though you send me before 
 a thousand court-martials, I am firmly resolved to close my 
 mouth and not open it, whatever they ask." 
 
 " The confidence with which you speak is the confidence 
 of an innocent man," said Lontos, " but the testimony, the 
 letter, and appearances are very heavy against you. You 
 yourself must desire to be tried, so that your innocence 
 may be proved and that your reputation and honor, now 
 impeached, may be vindicated." 
 
 "A hare was once accused, general," said Barthakas, 
 laughing savagely, "of breaking into a henhouse and 
 strangling and devouring many fowls. His friends ad- 
 vised him to present himself to the court of the eagles, so 
 that he might be cleared. What do you think the hare 
 replied ? ' In the eyes of the wise I am innocent, for they 
 well know that hares do not eat fowls. In the eyes of the 
 foolish it is better for me to pass as guilty than to enter 
 the court of the eagles, who themselves feed upon hares.' " 
 
 " You are a bundle of proverbs, Barthakas," said Lontos. 
 " Whatever you lack in body, you make up in brains." 
 
 " Your praise delights me, general, for it applies to your 
 own self a little." 
 
 In fact General Lontos was barely of medium height. 
 
 " But what am I to do with you ? Either you must be 
 
120 Andronike 
 
 proved innocent or else it will be impossible to quiet the 
 suspicions of everybody here." 
 
 « Invite Hamid and two or three Laliots to come to my 
 presence under a flag of truce. I will ask them certain 
 questions and then you will see. But what am I saying ! 
 This plan is impossible. You might promise the riches of 
 Croesus to Hamid, and he would not come out from the 
 citadel. The best course is to send me and three or four 
 of your most eminent men to the citadel to talk with them 
 face to face. If they persist that I led them to the tower 
 of the demogeront, then hang me. Besides, my peculiar 
 position will help you to observe the condition of the 
 besieged." 
 
 Lontos considered a little, and then ordered that the 
 proposition of Barthakas should be carried into effect. 
 
 The latter was almost delirious with joy. He cared only 
 to save his life, and welcomed any means whatsoever of 
 saving it, no matter how shameful. 
 
 The next day, accompanied by four Greek captains, he 
 entered the citadel. 
 
 The chiefs of the Laliots and the leaders of the Turks 
 were sitting cross-legged smoking. A great multitude of 
 men, women, and children, thin and pallid from hunger, 
 at once crowded round, thinking the Greeks had come to 
 treat for peace. 
 
 The teacher advanced in front of the rest. In the 
 manner in which the humblest Mussulman pays obeisance 
 to his superior, he inclined his body, three times raised his 
 palm from his breast to his forehead, and each separate 
 time uttered a distinct " Peace be unto you." 
 
 The Greeks, on the other hand, made a simple salute and 
 sat down without invitation. 
 
 "My lord, Hamid," began Barthakas, still standing, "did 
 you know the daughter of the demogeront Athanasiades ? " 
 
 " Yes," said he, giving him a look of hate. 
 
 " Do you remember her well ? " 
 
 "I remember her as well as I do you, you dwarf; you 
 persuaded me to try to take her." 
 
 " Do you hear, Barthakas ? " 
 
 " I, my lord, I led you ! I ! " the teacher asked in con- 
 fusion. 
 
 " Bah ! The dwarf pretends he does n't remember. 
 Bah!" 
 
Christian or Mussulman 121 
 
 " I swear I do not remember anything. Let me say only 
 two words in your ear. Before I speak out loud to them, I 
 want to tell you something in secret." 
 
 The chief of the Laliots looked at him with disdain. 
 
 "Two words in your ear, two words/' added Barthakas, 
 taking Hamid by the hand. 
 
 " Don't you understand what I have done ? " he said to 
 him in a low tone in Turkish. " Don't you understand that 
 I left the citadel to spy out the plans of the giaours ? In 
 one or two days the citadel will fall and not a soul will 
 escape. The besiegers have dug a trench and have filled it 
 with an immense quantity of powder to blow you all up. 
 If you don't believe me, send and ask Mr Philip Green, 
 who is a good friend of yours. And now I will tell these 
 giaours that I am a follower of Mohammed, and that I did 
 it to escape from their claws, and that, in spite of them- 
 selves, they brought me here. Do not waste time. Send 
 them off, so that I may tell you everything." 
 
 Leaving the astonished Albanian and turning to the 
 Greeks, he said : " I thank you, gentlemen, for your escort 
 in returning me to the arms of my Mussulman brothers 
 and fellow believers. In exchange for the life which you 
 have kindly granted me, the chief here will liberate a Greek 
 prisoner, and then we shall be quits. As for me I shall not 
 leave the castle again, for I am a Mussulman on both my 
 father's and my mother's side. My mind and heart are for 
 the Koran and Islam. So do not lose time, but return to 
 your chiefs and make them for once understand how the 
 knife of one little Mussulman cuts. Say to them that, if 
 through their quarrels and dissensions they were unable 
 to keep one prisoner, they will find it pretty hard to take 
 this citadel. I advise them therefore to renounce their 
 designs, because now we know all their plans and will put 
 them all to the sword as soon as those reinforcements 
 arrive from Roumelia which we expect daily." 
 
 In order to excite still more the fanaticism of the Turks 
 in his behalf, the infamous Barthakas shouted loudly the 
 Mussulman creed, "There is no God but God, and Mohammed 
 is the prophet of God." 
 
 At first the poor Greeks were amazed and then frenzied 
 with rage. All the Turks drew their swords to defend 
 Barthakas if necessary. 
 
 For almost an hour the Turks and Greeks angrily 
 
122 a Andronike 
 
 disputed. The latter demanded Barthakas ; the former 
 refused to give him up, maintaining that their religion 
 bade them defend the life of every believer. 
 
 At last the Greeks, seeing that they were helpless, 
 departed with indignation. 
 
 Let not the conduct of Barthakas appear impossible or 
 even strange. It is rather a marvel that the Greek, so long 
 a slave of a corrupt and degenerate empire, preserved his 
 religion and his nationality, and at many different periods 
 endeavored to break his chains. It is not strange that some 
 wretched creatures like Barthakas proved themselves apt 
 pupils in the school of tyranny. However that may be, by 
 means of this perfidy and the aid given the Mussulmans by 
 the British consul, Philip Green, the mine failed and the 
 citadel was not captured. 
 
BOOK II 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 ALI PASHA OF YANINA 
 
 The thread of our narrative takes us to Yanina, the cap- 
 ital of Epirus. 
 
 Kyra R hurried there after the battle of Gravias, hop- 
 ing to find the fleeing Andronike and Diamanto. Revenge 
 and love inflamed the Suliot. She imagined that the sup- 
 posed Andronikos had taken advantage of the secret she con- 
 fided to him concerning Diamanto. She thought that when 
 Andronikos learned how AH Pasha had offered Odysseus 
 an immense sum of money for the daughter of Carreto, he 
 had deceived Diamanto, and that together they had hastened 
 to the city which Carreto was so bravely defending against 
 the assaults of the sultan's armies. 
 
 Yanina, which lies in the middle of the ancient valley of 
 Elepolis, not far from Pindus on the lake of the same name, 
 is as destitute of architectural beauty as are Turkish cities 
 in general. Its streets are narrow and steep, and its bazars 
 gloomy, but its Turkish and Jewish cemeteries are attrac- 
 tive with foliage and shade, and the costume of the inhabi- 
 tants is picturesque and warlike. 
 
 The mosque of Kalo Pasha, adorned with columns and 
 marbles from the temple of Pluto whose ruins may still be 
 seen near the lake, is the only edifice worthy of attention. 
 
 An extended peninsula, or rather island, inasmuch as it 
 is cut off from the mainland by a wide ditch, stretches 
 toward the lake two arms on which rise magnificently two 
 mosques and the palace of the vizir. 
 
 This palace is strengthened by outworks and high walls. 
 Here is also included the famous fortress of Litharitza, the 
 pasha's formidable place of retreat. 
 
 In the centre of the palace was the tower of Kiz Koule, 
 fortified by cannon and thick walls. This tower was called 
 
124 Andronike 
 
 " the last refuge," because under it was a cave, a gigantic 
 work of nature, in which were stored two thousand kegs of 
 powder, an immense quantity of provisions, and the treas- 
 ures of the master. Another subterranean retreat had been 
 excavated, communicating with the first. In it were kept 
 the harem and the beautiful Vasilike. 
 
 Nothing more romantic could be conceived than this 
 asylum of the aged lion. In order to penetrate its recesses 
 one must pass through three doors, the secret of which was 
 known only to him. It was furnished with luxury. Above 
 in the mosque of the tower a body-guard of fifty men was 
 constantly under arms, ready at a word to die for him. 
 
 Near the powder-magazine Phechim Tzamai's watched 
 night and day, holding in his hand a lighted torch. He 
 was a young man of handsome figure, but as fierce and de- 
 termined as the tyrant. He needed only a sign to plunge 
 the fatal torch into the explosive mass. 
 
 At the moment when the reader is conducted into this 
 retreat, Ali Pasha is sitting on a tiger-skin upon a low divan. 
 At his side reclines Vasilike, resembling a daughter rather 
 than a wife. Opposite him stands Carreto, and a little far- 
 ther off Kyra R . 
 
 Ali Pasha was already an old man of over eighty. His 
 once golden hair, his heavy eyebrows, his thick moustache, 
 and long beard that reached the girdle, all snowy white, 
 shadowed one of those classic heads which the gazer would 
 suppose belonged to some revered Old Testament character 
 rather than to a scourge of humanity. 
 
 His eyes, small, deep blue, and buried in their sockets, 
 shot out fire whenever incensed by anger, but were as mild 
 as those of a stag when half closed by hypocrisy or by a 
 gentle mood. His countenance showed nothing of typical 
 Mussulman gravity, but every feature was the expression 
 of the restless and energetic soul which ruled the man. 
 Streams of natural eloquence often flowed from those lips of 
 his on which a pleasing smile usually hovered, but a smile 
 none the less satanic, and which aided in deceiving any man 
 on whom he lavished the epithets "my dear sir," "my 
 brother," " my son," " my child." He was a little over five 
 feet tall, and had a robust, well-knit frame. 
 
 A mixture of ignorance and intelligence, of falsehood and 
 sincerity, of distrust, daring, and caution, of intemperance, 
 superstition, avarice, fanaticism, and insatiable revenge, 
 
Alt Pasha of Yanina 125 
 
 above all, of studied hypocrisy and absolute secrecy, this 
 man had rapidly risen from a humble origin in the village 
 of Tepelen to the rank of viceroy of those countries over 
 which in ancient times Alexander the Great and Pyrrhus of 
 Epirus ruled with so much renown. 
 
 A sharp scimitar with a diamond-studded hilt glistened 
 in his girdle. At his side hung a Damascus blade which 
 Orkhan, the last scion of the Tartar dynasty, bestowed upon 
 him, when with his brothers he found hospitality at Yanina. 
 Farther to the left upon the divan lay his famous gun, a 
 work of Versailles, well known through Epirus and an ob- 
 ject of fear and song among all the Albanian tribes. This 
 gun of Damascus steel, inlaid with gold stars, had once be- 
 longed to the emperor Napoleon who had sent it to Djezzar 
 Pasha at Acre. After his death it passed to the hands of 
 Sultan Selim III, who bestowed it upon the Kurd Yusuph 
 Pasha, a former rice-merchant, three times promoted to the 
 rank of grand vizir. Ali Pasha inherited it from him. To 
 render it, he said, a gift worthy of a king, he surrounded it 
 with silver leaves and adorned it with precious stones. An 
 English telescope was his inseparable companion. 
 
 Vasilike, then about thirty years old, was a native of 
 Pleshovitza, a small village of Chaonia. 
 
 The Sublime Porte in 1800 suspected that this village 
 was the haunt of counterfeiters who were flooding Turkey 
 with false money, and commanded Ali Pasha to be on the 
 watch. Taking advantage of this order, one day he burned 
 the village, carried off all possible plunder, and slew many 
 of the inhabitants. 
 
 The father of Vasilike was the first victim. He was a 
 Christian, and, according to one report, a priest. 
 
 His terror-stricken daughter, then only eleven years old, 
 rushed from the blood-stained house, and crying for help 
 threw herself into the arms of the first Turk whom she 
 met. 
 
 "Sir," she sobbed, "my father is no longer alive. Pro- 
 tect us ! We never harmed the vizir that he should kill us 
 so, and my mother never did anything wrong. We are 
 poor people and we are in your hands. Perhaps you your- 
 self have a mother and children." 
 
 The sweet voice of Vasilike and the wonderful beauty of 
 her form calmed the cruel being who listened. It was the 
 pasha of Yanina himself. 
 
126 Andronike 
 
 He took the young girl in his arms, commanded the 
 slaughter to cease, and carried her and her mother to 
 Yanina. 
 
 An unheard-of thing, he never compelled her to change 
 her religion though he made her the ruler of his harem. 
 This is the famous woman who by her gentleness and virtue 
 tamed and controlled the passions of the monster. 
 
 Of slight stature but perfect proportions, Vasilike was 
 one of those women whom a European would call a Venus. 
 Her complexion was pale and clear, her eyes black and 
 dreamy, her eyebrows curved and constantly drooping over 
 her eyelids. Her foot and hand were wonderfully dainty. 
 
 Kyra E was describing the battle of Gravias. She 
 
 was telling all about Andronike and Diamante 
 
 Carreto wept, and begged permission to leave Yanina and 
 try to find his daughter. 
 
 "No," said Ali Pasha. " By the soul of my father, I need 
 you, my lad. The sultan's armies are already in another 
 part of Yanina. As soon as they advance, we shall set fire 
 to this row of barrels. Our death will be glorious, our end 
 will be sweet. Is it not so, my nightingale, Vasilike ?" 
 
 "Whatever the master wishes," she answered, turning 
 her glowing eyes toward the snow-white countenance of the 
 tyrant. 
 
 Afterwards the pasha extended his hand to Carreto in 
 sign of dismissal. 
 
 He kissed it, saluted to the ground, and went out with 
 Kyra R . 
 
 "You appear weary, my dear child," Ali said, turning 
 towards Phechim Tzamais. " Give me the torch ; it is my 
 turn to watch. Go to sleep." 
 
 The faithful guardian kissed the hand to which he gave 
 the ominous torch, and spread his cloak over the kegs. At 
 once he fell into a deep sleep. For a long time a profound 
 silence reigned in that fearful retreat. 
 
 The aged satrap mechanically toyed with the delicate 
 face of Vasilike, with her hair and throat, and pressed her 
 at times passionately to his breast. His eyes stared fixedly, 
 sometimes at the powder, sometimes at the flaming torch, 
 and showed that his mind was tormented by an endless 
 succession of ideas. 
 
 Vasilike languidly reclined her head on the breast of the 
 old man, and held her eyes half closed. Then she took his 
 
Ali Pasha of Yanina 127 
 
 hand and responded with a gentle pressure as often as the 
 tyrant clasped her to his breast. 
 
 "A curse upon Abdullah Ebn Saad, the chief transgressor 
 of the Koran, Vasilike ! " said Ali Pasha, with a deep groan. 
 " What is this world ! I never have been happy ! I longed 
 for fortune, and it came with all its advantages. I longed 
 for palaces, for a court, power, magnificence, pomp, banquets, 
 and I have enjoyed them all. The rustic when he compares 
 my state with the lowly cabin in which I was born, surely 
 deems me thrice happy. I call the faithful Zeid to witness, 
 all the Albanians sing about me in their songs. And yet, if 
 the world knew, my beautiful Vasilike, how I have bought 
 all these successes ! I have sinned. Oh, Ze'id, son of the 
 Prophet, entreat pardon for me ! I have slain so many of 
 my kindred and friends, so many human beings ! I am 
 surrounded now by those whose parents I have sacrificed, 
 daughter of Pleshovitza. My beloved Vasilike, you are the 
 only comfort of my unhappy soul, and yet did I not slay 
 your father ? " 
 
 " Do not talk like that, my lord," said the woman, kissing 
 the hand of the vizir. 
 
 * Vasilike, my beloved child ! Glory to Allah, the end 
 of Ali approaches. I realize it, for the voice which always 
 disturbs my sleep troubles me no longer; even it respects 
 these moments." 
 
 " You are talking strangely, my lord. Death is still far 
 away. Chourshid Pasha knows that, if he makes a step 
 toward Yanina, it will blow up into the sky." 
 
 "Yes, my daughter Vasilike. The angry shade of Emine 
 has ceased to demand revenge. The jealousy my unhappy 
 spouse felt for you has ended, because she sees that I myseif 
 am approaching the tomb. Vasilike, the world is not di- 
 rected by chance ; the finger of God governs it. I see it 
 clearly. I murdered Emine, my virtuous Emine ! Her 
 sons, Velis and Mouktar, have betrayed me ; see in what a 
 situation I am to-day. Vasilike, my star, tell me the truth, 
 lay bare your soul to Ali. Are you willing to die with me, 
 or do you wish to live longer ? My own end is inevitable. 
 Speak, my Vasilike ; one word, and I will send you far from 
 Epirus." 
 
 " I am ready to die with my lord." 
 
 " By my soul, your reply does not please me. It seems to 
 me forced. You are in the flower of your youth, Vasilike. 
 
128 Andronike 
 
 Life must have charms for you. Do not think of me, who 
 am eighty years old. I have lived my life. Speak, my 
 girl ! One word from you, and you are far from this 
 powder." 
 
 The tyrant uttered these words calmly and gently. 
 Taking her beautiful face in his two hands, he turned 
 it toward his eyes, greedily seeking to read her soul 
 through it. 
 
 Those were strange sentiments which his aged counte- 
 nance expressed. A dull ache ran through all the members 
 of the old man. Devouring jealousy made him fancy that 
 his wealth and his queenly Vasilike were to pass into the 
 possession of another. The nearer he drew to the grave, 
 the more determined he became that this unhappy creature 
 should die first. 
 
 Vasilike, though clever, was guileless and sincere, for she 
 had known no other love than his, and by her blind obedience 
 to his desires and by her sweetness had banished every 
 murderous impulse of the tiger against herself. In this last 
 conversation she turned her head and looked at him fixedly. 
 Life indeed was sweet to her, for she was young ; but at the 
 same time she realized that she must withdraw to a monas- 
 tery, and there pass her remaining days in prayer and 
 penitence. Moreover she knew that in her present condition 
 the least ruffling of the tyrant would hasten her death. She 
 threw her arms around his neck and, covering his face with 
 kisses, said : " I am ready, my lord, to follow your fate. Why 
 should I wish for life when I lose you from the world ? 
 You know this, you understand it, you recognize it in all my 
 feelings. Why then do you so torment me, and why do you 
 show such distrust of your beloved Vasilike ? " 
 
 " By the daughter of the Prophet, I believe you ! I believe 
 you, my child. Only you and Phechim are faithful to me." 
 After these words he remained silent and gave himself up 
 to reflection. 
 
 Soon a soldier announced that ambassadors from the vizir 
 of Peloponnesus desired to hold a conference with him, 
 
 " Let them come at two o'clock to-morrow afternoon," Ali 
 Pasha replied briefly. 
 
The Escape of Carreto 129 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE ESCAPE OP CARRETO 
 
 " Truly, Captain Carreto, you are foolish not to escape 
 
 from Yanina," said Kyra R to the father of Diainanto, 
 
 who was seated opposite her and seemed buried in thought. 
 
 "I shall stay here, lady, and die for him who granted 
 me my life." 
 
 " Do you suppose he saved your life from mere love ? 
 You know about artillery. 'Iain in a dangerous war/ he 
 said to himself. <If I save him, he will be useful to 
 me.' " 
 
 " That is not so, lady. The vizir does love me, and offers 
 two thousand florins to any one who will bring me my 
 Diamante" 
 
 " Now it is May, but there are no nightingales ; do you 
 understand, my Carreto? We Suliot women know his 
 tricks. For fifteen years we fought him and made treaties 
 with him, and he was always a miser and traitor. Do you 
 know, Carreto, why he gives so much money for your girl ? 
 He is getting tired of his Vasilike. He has heard how 
 pretty Diainanto is. ' Ah/ says he, 'I will exchange.' " 
 
 " What do you mean, Kyra ? " said the artillery officer, 
 springing to his feet with an angry flush. 
 
 "The truth, Kyrios Carreto, only the truth. Ah, Captain 
 Carreto, if he had wanted to he could have saved your 
 Nekibe with a word." 
 
 " Nekibe ! Do not utter her name," cried the father of 
 Diainanto. 
 
 " With one word he could have saved her, with a mere 
 word ! But you were a Christian and she was a Turk. So 
 they pelted her with stones and took her sweet soul. Now 
 he still needs you ; but after the war is finished, he will 
 throw you into the lake." 
 
 Carreto listened in silence. 
 
 " I have tried once, twice, three times to say good-by to 
 you, Carreto ; but now, before I go, I am going to ease my 
 heart. I Knew your chestnut-haired Diamanto. If you 
 hurry and pursue the man who stole her, you will do well. 
 If you stay here to please the pasha, you will lose your girl, 
 
 9 
 
130 Andronike 
 
 and when you are about to go before God, her mother will 
 come and ask for her child. Your pay seems to sink your 
 soul." 
 
 "But I never knew my daughter! Where can I find 
 her?" 
 
 u Become a bird of the sea and a bird of the mountains, 
 and hunt for her all over Eoumelia. The Greeks will give 
 whatever you need, and will pay you well to stay with 
 them." 
 
 Carreto remained silent a long time. Then he said, " I 
 will go. Do you know, lady, that Ali seems infatuated? 
 If he would sacrifice a little of his wealth to make the Al- 
 banians fight for him, he might become sultan. His avarice 
 blinds him." 
 
 " I am very glad you are coming with me. I am a woman 
 and can leave by the gate of the fortress, but you must let 
 yourself down by a rope toward the ditch. I will meet you 
 there. Take all the money you have." 
 
 It was about midnight. There was no moon, and a light 
 fog made it still darker. The artillery officer, armed with 
 his pistols and sword, fastened a rope to a gun-carriage and, 
 
 hearing Kyra B answer his faint call, began slowly to 
 
 descend. 
 
 He was a heavy, large-framed man. Under his weight 
 the rope parted when he was hardly more than half-way 
 down and the unfortunate commander fell on a rock and 
 broke his arm. Nor was this all. At the same moment 
 one of his pistols went off and wounded him severely in the 
 foot. 
 
 At the noise of the crash and the pistol-shot the patrol 
 of the besieging army hurried to the spot and took him 
 
 prisoner as well as Kyra B , who was hastening to his 
 
 assistance. 
 
 Being conducted before Chourshid Pasha, they stated the 
 reasons of their flight, and disclosed the desperate designs 
 of Ali Pasha. Immediately the besiegers removed to a 
 greater distance from the wall. 
 
The Place of Safety 131 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE PLACE OF SAFETY 
 
 The dawn was already far advanced when the captain 
 of the guard awoke the pasha to inform him of the escape 
 of Carreto. 
 
 Exceedingly superstitious, he was greatly disturbed at 
 the news. Besides he was still haunted by the dream 
 from which at that minute he was roused, wherein his 
 beautiful wife Emine, leading her sons Velis and Mouktar 
 by the hand, pointed to her shattered breast. Instantly 
 he sprang from the bed. The stern-hearted tyrant, now 
 overcome by timidity and infirmity, began to weep, to 
 lament the days of his youth and to sorrow over his past 
 life. Never did the desire of living burn more intensely 
 in his soul. This man, who in battle and danger had so 
 often mocked at death, now clung like a coward to Vasilike, 
 seeking her protection and beseeching her for advice. 
 
 " Vasilike, Vasilike ! Allah is the light of the heavens 
 and the earth, and leads whomever he will toward the 
 light. Death is here. I see it. Perhaps I shall not be 
 able to meet it as calmly as I have given it to many. 
 Everybody is betraying me. My soldiers are deserting 
 me. Even Carreto has fled. He was a true Catholic ; and 
 do you too flee, you who are Orthodox. Let Phechim also 
 flee. Leave the old Ali to die alone, for he is a rebel." 
 And with his two hands he pushed the young woman 
 away. 
 
 " Why do you distrust me, my lord? Come back to the 
 arms of your beloved Vasilike. You know I never have 
 loved any one except the rescuer of my life. I pray to our 
 Panaghia only for you, my lord. When the critical hour is 
 upon us, do you want us to be separated ? " 
 
 Ali Pasha took her hand. Becoming more calm, he said, 
 " Do you think, my Vasilike, dew of the garden of roses, 
 that if with your whole soul you entreat the mother of 
 your crucified prophet, she will be able to save us ? " 
 
 "Do I think it! I am absolutely sure that if any 
 unfortunate person will pray to our Lord Jesus Christ and 
 his mother, he shall obtain their assistance." 
 
132 Andronike 
 
 " On your knees then, my Vasilike, bestower of happi- 
 ness, and pray to them," said the pasha, stroking rever- 
 ently his long white beard. " If they save us, the old 
 Ali and all Epirus shall burn their Korans and become 
 Christians. But, my darling child, I am afraid that no 
 religion has power to change a man's kismet." 
 
 He soon ascended to the mosque of Kiz Koule and 
 prayed for a long time upon the grave of his wife Emine. 
 Next he approached his formidable guard of fifty Suliots. 
 
 Years before Ali Pasha had overthrown Suli. The 
 heroic inhabitants, driven out of their own country, fled 
 to the Ionian Islands. When the armies of the sultan 
 began the siege of Yanina, the Suliots entreated permis- 
 sion to join them so as to take revenge on their implacable 
 enemy, but Pascho Bey would not receive them. Then Ali, 
 that he might be no longer exposed to their resentment, 
 restored Suli to them and made a treaty with them and 
 exchanged hostages. These hostages afterwards composed 
 his body-guard. Among them was Konstantinos Botsaris, 
 the brother of Markos. He was a young man of medium 
 height, of pale complexion, and laconic in his speech. 
 
 The satrap approached and questioned him concerning 
 the flight of Carreto. 
 
 " He has done well. He was no longer necessary," the 
 Suliot answered. 
 
 " What are you saying, Botsaris ? He was not neces- 
 sary ! Who, then, will take charge of our cannon ? " 
 
 " Phechim Tzamais." 
 
 " I understand. You mean that nothing is left us except 
 the Place of Safety." 
 
 Konstantinos Botsaris nodded assent. 
 
 Erom the intrepid daring of the Suliot the tyrant 
 argued that his plan was not distasteful to them. Thespo 
 and Samuel and many others in his time had sat upon 
 chests of powder and blown themselves up rather than 
 surrender. Therefore, not to seem himself less stalwart- 
 hearted, he said, " Let us first see what the ambassadors of 
 Chourshid Pasha propose." 
 
 The envoys soon entered. They were the caftanji, 
 Hassan Pasha, and Omer Brione, the torturer of Diakos. 
 
 The pasha received them with great dignity. After the 
 usual ceremonies he invited them to follow to his fearful 
 Place of Safety. 
 
The Place of Safety 133 
 
 The aged satrap, whose courage the broken sleep of the 
 preceding night had weakened, now became another man. 
 His face was crimson, his eyes fiery; the weakness of age 
 vanished from his limbs. He darted his small eyes by 
 turns from Botsaris to the envoys, seeking to find out 
 their impressions. Then breaking the long silence, he 
 said, u Here my treasures, which the Padishah desires, 
 are reposing, as you see, on two thousand kegs of powder. 
 What do you say, Phechim ? " 
 
 The servant raised his hand from his heart to his 
 forehead, and lifted the torch as a sign that he was ready to 
 set fire. 
 
 " Hold! " cried Hassan Pasha, falling on his knees. 
 
 " Rise. Do not be afraid. It is not my custom to injure 
 my visitors." 
 
 The envoys were pale as wax. 
 
 " It is not these kegs alone. The entire fortress, which 
 you have carried, is burrowed under with mines. Learn, 
 my lords, that you are sitting on powder and, since your 
 purpose is to acquire these treasures, I grieve to inform 
 you that you are in danger and are troubling yourselves 
 for nothing. I swear by the centre of the two horizons 
 that if I were younger, I would put myself at the head of 
 the Greeks and with them I would march straight upon 
 Constantinople. Brione, you know me. You used to call 
 me 'the crocodile of the sea of battle.' Now I am an 
 old man and unable to control those whom formerly I had 
 under my command. I see before me only one of two things, 
 either a glorious death or a pardon from my most illus- 
 trious sultan, expressed in a firman of his own hand. Then 
 I will surrender to you these treasures and I will withdraw 
 into some corner of Asia Minor, that I may pass there 
 my few remaining days. What are Hassan Pasha or you, 
 Omer Brione, or the majority of the officers of your army, 
 but men whom I have formed and brought forward? 
 And yet you are my most implacable enemies. If you 
 compel me to set fire, the sacrifice will be worthy of my 
 renown and of that end which I have dreamed of from my 
 boyhood." 
 
 " Mighty satrap ! Shining Star of Epirus ! " said the 
 crafty Omer Brione, "our magnificent sultan will grant 
 you your life, and we will lay our earnest prayers at his feet 
 for our former master." 
 
134 Andronike 
 
 " Bah ! " said Ali Pasha to himself. Then he turned to 
 Brione and continued haughtily: "You were my servant 
 for many years, Omer Brione, and I remember with what 
 hypocrisy and craft you always executed my commands. 
 By the foul Anka, you betrayed me and fled ! The Arabs 
 often give hospitality to persons whom they plan to 
 rob and to murder after they have gone and are a 
 gunshot away. You lived in Egypt many years, my tiger, 
 and doubtless learned thoroughly this custom of the 
 Bedouins. I do not trust you, nor do I want anything 
 from you. I ask only the pardon of my mighty master, 
 the sultan. If he grants it, well ; if not, do not approach 
 me." 
 
 The torturer of Diakos at once recognized his former mas- 
 ter. He remembered him well, and, humbly lowering his 
 haughty forehead, remained silent. 
 
 "May the Prophet Mohammed, the ocean of light, en- 
 lighten that fountain of life, the Sultan Mahmoud, to grant 
 me the amnesty," Ali continued. Turning to the caf- 
 tan ji, he said : " Take this watch. It keeps exact time with 
 the one I am holding. Look ! You know that I am a man 
 of decision. I swear by the seven men who slept so long 
 in the fearful cave of Mecca, and by their faithful dog 
 Katmir which the Prophet honored with a place in the 
 paradise of the faithful, that if in two hours the soldiers of 
 Chourshid do not flee from the walls of my capital, I will 
 put fire and I will bury you alive on the rocks, like Abracha 
 Ebn al Sabach and his faithless followers. Let them send 
 me no other embassy or reply, for I will not receive it, 
 until the soldiers have departed." 
 
 The envoys saluted with trembling knees, and felt ex- 
 ceedingly relieved after they had passed outside of the den 
 of the terrible pasha. 
 
 One hour later not a soldier of the sultan remained in 
 Yanina. 
 
 Ali and his Suliots had compelled thirty thousand Turks 
 to leave the city, pushing and jostling each other in their 
 haste. 
 
 Every puff of smoke which rose from the city seemed to 
 them an appalling sign. 
 
What the Teacher is, the Scholar is 135 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 WHAT THE TEACHER IS, THE SCHOLAR IS 
 
 The pasha threw a large part of his treasures into the 
 lake, and then entered the chamber of Vasilike. She was 
 at that moment praying before the picture of the Holy 
 Virgin. 
 
 " What do you say, Vasilike? Will the mother of our 
 prophet deliver us ? " he asked. 
 
 " I am praying earnestly for your life, my lord. Have 
 you seen the ambassadors and have you talked with 
 them? " 
 
 " I have both seen them and talked with them. They 
 were worthless cowards, and trembled at the sight of the 
 powder. There was not one among them to say, ' Set fire 
 and let us die for the glory of the sultan ! \ " 
 
 " What did they promise you ? " 
 
 " To ask for my pardon from Constantinople." 
 
 " And do they hope to obtain it ? " 
 
 "They hope so." 
 
 " Take good heed, my lord." 
 
 " Do not be troubled. I am the old lion yet." 
 
 "But, forgive me." 
 
 " Say on, Vasilike, my Roxelana." 
 
 "Do not go a step from your Phechim, and then the 
 armies of all the world will not be able to come near you." 
 
 " I know it, my wise Vasilike," said the satrap. 
 
 After this brief conversation he fell into his usual rest- 
 lessness. Soon he slept a little while, but again his sleep 
 was fall of dreams and fancies. 
 
 The next day he was more quiet. With Konstantinos 
 Botsaris he climbed to the battlements of the fortress, and 
 saw the distance to which the forces of Chourshid Pasha 
 had withdrawn. Then he laughed for a long time ner- 
 vously at the spectacle, and soon sent for Vasilike, that she 
 might share the sweet and auspicious sight. 
 
 They sat in the window of a high tower, from which they 
 could look out upon the widespread horizon. 
 
 That January was cold. Layers of snow covered the 
 crests, the sides, and the valleys of Pindus. The extended 
 
136 Ancironike 
 
 lake of Yanina was calm, but on account of the siege not a 
 fishing boat or bark appeared on its surface. 
 
 Vasilike, wrapped in a costly garment which reached her 
 feet, hid under it her charming figure. One could see only 
 her fair, pale countenance and the black hair, gracefully 
 covered by a cap of crimson and gold. 
 
 The pasha held his English glass and looked in every 
 direction. 
 
 " What delicious air ! P said the Christian, with a deep 
 breath. " So many days in the cave ! I had a great long- 
 ing for the clear sky." 
 
 Ali made a sign to his servants to leave them. 
 
 " Look at Pindus and the Pelagian mountains, Vasilike. 
 They are as white as my hair. There is not a branch nor 
 a stone which has not heard my name. Where have the 
 Albanians not sung it ! They call me ' the lion of 
 Epirus.' Ah, if I had only my youth ! Then, by the fire- 
 breathing horses of war, the cowardly servants of the 
 sultan would not dare to approach Yanina. I would hurry 
 to seek them." 
 
 " Every period of our life, my lord, has its sweet recollec- 
 tions ; yet the present is the best, for we have no experience 
 of the future, and the soul asks only rest and quiet." 
 
 " In fact I too wish for quiet, my daughter. If they let 
 me, I will go and live in that little corner of Asia Minor 
 where the bones of my ancestors rest. And yet, Vasilike, if 
 I have still ten years to live, you have many more." 
 
 " Not so many. In ten years I shall be forty-tw r o, — an 
 age that is not pleasing to a woman." 
 
 "Always you will be beautiful; and then, the wife of Ali 
 Pasha ! who w T ill not desire her hand ? " 
 
 " If my evil fate deprives me of my master, I shall never 
 turn to look at another man." 
 
 " Those are the words of the moment, Vasilike, phantom 
 of happiness. One, two, three years more, my child, and 
 you will forget me. That is the way of the world and of 
 man's memory." 
 
 " I do not know what will happen, but my heart tells me 
 at this moment that I shall never love another." 
 
 " This idea torments me more than all the armies of the 
 sultan. I cannot grow used to it. That you should love 
 another ! That another should have you ! It is better to 
 see you dead at my feet." 
 
What the Teacher is, the Scholar is 137 
 
 Again jealousy began to agitate the breast of the tyrant. 
 
 " Am I not ready to die with you, my lord ? Why are 
 you always controlled by such black ideas ? Why such 
 distrust ? Do you not know me ? " 
 
 u I know you, but I know too what feeble creatures you 
 women are. As soon as the man whom you love is no 
 longer before you, imperceptibly you are weaned from him, 
 and forget him, and begin another affection." 
 
 " All women are not like that," said the Christian, 
 laughing. "There are exceptions. Your fancy always 
 magnifies things." 
 
 " You are laughing ! This conversation diverts you ! I 
 talk to you with pain in my soul, and on your countenance 
 joy appears! I understand it! You do not wait for the 
 hour when I am gone from the world in order to find 
 pleasure. Truly ! The rich wife of Ali Pasha ! By the 
 Prophet, before I descend to the tomb I will send you there 
 first. I will send you," he cried, with a frenzied voice, and 
 his hand sought his dagger. 
 
 "Kill me, pasha," the woman replied, without being in 
 the least troubled at his frenzy, and turning her clear eyes 
 to his, — " kill me. You will confer two blessings upon my 
 heart, — the first, that you will not leave me to feel the 
 affliction of your death, if, as you say, you depart before 
 me ; and the second, that I shall die content, because you 
 will then be persuaded that I have died for you." 
 
 " If your words were true ! I do not know what to be- 
 lieve ! Either you really love me much or you are a con- 
 summate hypocrite." 
 
 Vasilike did not utter a word. She knew him thoroughly, 
 and she knew that when the demon of rage and jealousy 
 maddened him, he would sacrifice every one in his presence. 
 She had learned that obedience to his wishes and com- 
 mands was the only way to escape death or torture from 
 the bloodthirsty tyrant. 
 
 " You do not answer," he said, embracing her. 
 
 Vasilike remained silent. 
 
 " Therefore you confess that you are a hypocrite ! " 
 
 Again the Christian did not open her mouth. Such 
 doubt of her character on the part of Ali Pasha made her 
 determined to keep silent. 
 
 " Then you are a hypocrite ! I will strangle you with 
 my hands if you do not answer." 
 
138 Andronike 
 
 He pressed the throat of the young woman with so 
 convulsive a clutch as almost to accomplish his threat. 
 Again he left her for the moment, screaming, " Hypocrite ! 
 Giaour ! You are deceiving me ! You are cheating me ! 
 Is it not so, viper ? Tell me the truth and I forgive you.' 7 
 
 The young woman burst into a passion of tears and sobs ; 
 but the tyrant left her and withdrew to the farther window 
 of the tower. 
 
 The beautiful Vasilike wept bitterly. In spite of all, in 
 the depth of her soul, she devotedly loved the monster ; for 
 she had never known anybody else, and in his better 
 moments he loaded her with gifts and kindnesses. 
 
 Yet there came hours in which, recalling the torments 
 she endured at his hands, she revolted from him and longed 
 for freedom, and prayed to the Holy Virgin to deliver her 
 from his clutches and never to let her see another man. 
 
 Ali stood at the window, inflamed by jealousy, and not 
 knowing for what reason he had treated his victim thus. 
 His fancy continually pictured Vasilike, after his death, 
 passing to the arms of another. 
 
 At that moment a gypsy, walking with bare feet over 
 the snow, approached the outworks of the fortress and 
 stretched a hand of entreaty toward him. 
 
 The vizir bade the half-naked fortune-teller come up and 
 predict his fortune and that of Vasilike. 
 
 The old woman made a profound salutation, and, casting 
 her eyes toward the weeping and dejected Vasilike, ex- 
 claimed : " How beautiful she is ! Truly she is the queen 
 of Paradise, and has alighted for a little while on the earth 
 in order to gratify the vizir." 
 
 Ali was pleased and asked, u Can you tell me our future ? " 
 
 "The prophet gave me knowledge of the future," 
 answered the aged gypsy. 
 
 M Commence then and tell it, venerable sibyl. Whether 
 good or bad, I will hear it. Do not hesitate." 
 
 " May the vizir live many years ! We always tell the 
 truth." 
 
 She then took his hand and began to examine the palm. 
 At the same time she took from her breast various colored 
 pebbles which she regarded fixedly. Muttering oaths and 
 incoherent words, she gazed at the sky. 
 
 The face of the old woman at once took on a sober 
 expression, and she seemed to hesitate. 
 
What the Teacher is, the Scholar is 139 
 
 The superstitious tyrant uneasily watched her movements. 
 
 The warm-hearted Vasilike forgot her experience of a 
 short time before, and turned toward the vizir and the 
 gypsy, apparently interested in the researches of the 
 sibyl. 
 
 " Well, mother/' said the vizir, impatiently. 
 
 "It is bad fortune, effendi." 
 
 " Tell it," said the old man, breathing as if oppressed. 
 
 " In a few days you will die." 
 
 " Truly, you wretched sorceress ! " he said with a scornful 
 laugh, though his face became as white as his beard. 
 
 "Is it possible that you believe her prophecies ?" ex- 
 claimed Vasilike, angrily. tt Go back to your work, mother. 
 We have no need of your predictions." 
 
 "Let her finish, my Vasilike. She is 'the truth of the 
 deserts/" said Ali, doubtfully. "Continue, my good 
 woman." 
 
 " They will betray you, effendi, and they will kill you," 
 she added with obstinate conviction. 
 
 " They will kill me ! And then," Ali Pasha cried with 
 white lips rising to his feet, — "and then ? " 
 
 " What comes after death I do not know, neither can I 
 predict what will happen there above, my vizir," she added, 
 pointing to heaven. 
 
 " By the night of Kadr, which is better than a thousand 
 months, and in which the angels and Gabriel descend to 
 decide human affairs, the old woman speaks the truth! 
 Let us also learn the fate of my good Vasilike," said the 
 pasha, gloomily. 
 
 The Christian wished to quit the room, but she saw the 
 mood of the tyrant ; so she placed her little ivory hand in 
 the calloused and swarthy grasp of the old woman. 
 
 " Mashallah ! Mashallah ! You will live many years ; 
 but you will live as you lived before you came into the 
 palace of the vizir." 
 
 "That is to say? "said Ali. 
 
 " Poor and obscure in the corner of a church." 
 
 "Vile prophetess ! you are only a liar," cried the tyrant, 
 struggling with anger to dispel his superstition. "So I 
 shall die ! Daughter of hell, I feel that I shall live twenty 
 years longer. I will, you daughter of the accursed tribe of 
 Amalek! So my Vasilike will be left poor! With her 
 diamonds alone she can buy for slaves all the women of 
 
140 Andronike 
 
 Georgia and Circassia. Can you tell me your own fate, 
 worthless sorceress ? " 
 
 " My own fate is unchangeable, my lord. It is always to 
 walk barefooted upon the snow and to disclose the destiny 
 of others." 
 
 " I swear by the four bridges of hell, which are sharp as 
 razors and on which the sinner cannot pass, that I will 
 change it," shouted the tyrant. 
 
 " Come here," he called, clapping his hands. 
 
 His slaves entered. 
 
 " Hang this sorceress at once, so that she may learn not 
 to tell lies." 
 
 The old woman uttered a shrill cry of anguish. Vasilike 
 wished to intercede for her, but at the order of the vizir 
 they dragged her away. 
 
 Soon the vizir and Vasilike returned to the Place of 
 Safety. 
 
 His physician Loucas Baias, brother of Athanasias Baias, 
 chief executioner of Yanina, came in and begged him to 
 spare the old woman's life. The tyrant at first was disin- 
 clined, but afterwards he consented. The physician thanked 
 him, saluted to the ground, and went out. Two hours had 
 not passed, when again the physician approached the satrap, 
 but this time disappointed and sad. 
 
 " My brother has hanged the unhappy old woman, most 
 mighty vizir," he cried. 
 
 Ali laughed merrily. 
 
 "My lord, then you did not grant me her life!" 
 
 The tyrant bade him sit down upon the divan. With a 
 loud and satanic laugh and a convulsive shrug of his 
 shoulders, he said, " I thought that all who studied in my 
 school became my good pupils, Loucas Baias. 
 
 ' And you know me and I know you, 
 And I know you and you know me, 
 And they know us and they know you, 
 And they know you and they know us.' " 
 
 The awful Ali in fact spoke truly. Only he who had 
 spent some little time at his court would be able to appre- 
 ciate the full force of this infernal song. 
 
The Prediction Fulfilled 141 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE PREDICTION FULFILLED 
 
 Two days after the death of the unfortunate old woman 
 the caftanji of Chourshid Pasha came to visit the satrap 
 of Yanina, and at the same time to announce the pleasing 
 news that his master had sent to Constantinople a petition 
 entreating for his life. 
 
 The vizir received him magnificently, loaded him with 
 gifts, and again prayed the beneficent prophet to enlighten 
 the mind of the sultan so that he should grant him pardon. 
 
 "It would be well/ said the caftanji, " for you to have 
 a personal interview with my master Chourshid Pasha. He 
 is your old friend, and when you see each other you will 
 renew your ancient friendship. Then he will do everything 
 for the protection of your Highness." 
 
 "I greatly desire this interview. I myself wish with all 
 my heart to embrace my former friend Chourshid. Let him 
 appoint the day and the hour and I will strew w T ith gold and 
 diamonds all the roads of Yanina over which he will pass." 
 
 " Your Highness understands that this interview cannot 
 take place in Yanina." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because Yanina is everywhere undermined with powder." 
 
 "You are right. But you know, caftanji, that if the 
 Padishah himself wanted to talk with Ali outside my Place 
 of Safety, he never would persuade me to meet him." 
 
 "I know it," he murmured with chagrin, "and I see 
 the impossibility of this interview". Yet how much I 
 desired that you should talk once with my master. I have 
 great respect and love for you, my lord, because in my youth 
 you were such a worker of marvels. Who in the world does 
 not speak with admiration of the lion of Epirus ? " 
 
 The aged vizir was flattered, and kept on smoking his 
 narghileh with a smile. 
 
 " Is it not possible that this interview take place on the 
 little island of the lake ? Leave the inflexible Phechim in 
 the Place of Safety with his torch; then, if he sees a single 
 soldier approaching the borders of the city, let him set fire. 
 This interview is necessary, not only for mutual benefit, but 
 
142 Andronike 
 
 also for the unfortunate inhabitants of the city who have 
 lived so long in uneasiness and fear." 
 
 Ali Pasha remained silent. By and by he said, " I will 
 reflect, and to-morrow I will give you a reply." 
 
 After the caftanji departed Ali hastened to Vasilike. 
 In the most critical moments of his life he trusted no one 
 save her. 
 
 " No ! For the sake of the Panaghia," she cried, " do not 
 go out from the Place of Safety. They want to kill you ! 
 Do you not understand it ? " 
 
 "So you wish to play the magician, my pet, Vasilike. 
 What danger do you see in this interview on the island ? 
 What harm can they do? The armies are in the other 
 direction." 
 
 "I do not see the danger, but my soul foretells danger." 
 
 "I believe you, my virtuous Vasilike. You women are 
 strange and mysterious beings. Verily the soul of a good 
 and beautiful woman is prophetic. I have proved this many 
 times. Not so, however, are those like the old gypsy. I do 
 not consent to the interview. Yet I will question Kon- 
 stantinos Botsaris and the Suliots. You know they are the 
 only faithful people who are still left me. The rest desert 
 me daily." 
 
 Ali Pasha then asked for the Suliots, but for a long 
 time none of them appeared. Finally Konstantinos Botsaris 
 entered silent and fierce. 
 
 " Where are the others ? H 
 
 " They do not obey me. They are fleeing." 
 
 " They are fleeing ! We must set fire, then, to the Place 
 of Safety." 
 
 " I and my companions agree with you. The only reason 
 why they flee is that they have heard that you are treating 
 with the Turkish commander about going to the island." 
 
 " On that account they wish to set fire ? " 
 
 " One word from you and we will all be buried here," 
 replied the laconic Suliot. 
 
 " I will think about it to-night, and to-morrow I will give 
 you a reply." 
 
 What a night that was for the Nero of Albania ! Crimes 
 and remorse in no way troubled him, but only the uncertainty 
 of his situation. On the one hand he inclined to follow the 
 advice of Botsaris and set fire. On the other he remembered 
 that Botsaris was a Christian, whose country he had de- 
 
The Prediction Fulfilled 143 
 
 stroyed and the blood of whose brothers he had shed ; there- 
 fore he suspected him and tended to disregard his opinion. 
 He knew that he was surrounded by traitors and murderers, 
 so he desired this interview with Chourshid, thinking that 
 he alone could assure him the few years which the brief 
 remainder of life might allow. 
 
 The wild beast who was wont to inspire such fear and 
 dread in the intrepid Albanians, was no longer the same 
 being. The energy, the firmness and courage, which 
 marked his youthful days, had changed to superstition, 
 timidity, and doubt. His decision to die was not the deci- 
 sion of a Cato. His ambition to be buried in the flames of 
 the powder was not the ambition of Empedocles throwing 
 himself into the crater of iEtna. He was not a philosophic 
 Brahmin to mount with a slow and decided step the funeral 
 pyre he had prepared. He was shrinking and cowardly, 
 and stretched his hands to grasp even the fag ends of 
 life. 
 
 He rose and announced that he had determined to meet 
 on the island his old friend Chourshid, who on the Koran 
 had sworn to him friendship and faith. 
 
 In vain Vasilike endeavored to prevent him by her tears. 
 In a few days with twelve Suliots he embarked on skiffs 
 for the island. Vasilike also embarked with her diamonds 
 and with boxes full of precious articles, that they might 
 bestow presents on the representative of the sultan. 
 
 This act caused the Ottomans so much joy that their 
 cannon from every direction saluted and congratulated Ali 
 Pasha. 
 
 The island is almost in the middle of the lake, half-way 
 between the well-known fountain of Cryoneri and the 
 fortress of Litharitza, on the other side of the palace. It 
 contains a tiny village of about eighty small houses, inhabited 
 mostly by Greeks, and also seven monasteries, of which 
 that of the Saviour is the chief. 
 
 This monastery the tyrant some years before had converted 
 into a prison, which became notorious, because there an 
 unknown number of people were put to death that he might 
 confiscate their possessions. 
 
 In a magnificent summer-house of the island, which had 
 formerly been the pleasure-resort of his sons Velis and 
 Mouktar, and was furnished with royal luxury, he purposed 
 to receive the commander-in-chief, Chourshid Pasha. 
 
144 Andronike 
 
 Already he had waited for him two hours, very anxiously, 
 when instead the caftanji came alone. 
 
 "Where is Chourshid?" Ali Pasha asked angrily, laying 
 hold of his weapons. 
 
 "Do not be disturbed, my lord. There is no reason for 
 being troubled. On the contrary, the news from Constanti- 
 nople is highly satisfactory. Pascho Bey and Ismail Plias- 
 sos, your deadly enemies, have fallen and your pardon has 
 been granted. It will be sent by the next post." 
 
 An expression of delight lit up the wrinkled face of the 
 old man. His eyes glittered. " Is it true ? " he murmured. 
 "Where, then, is Chourshid vizir?" 
 
 " By the green flag of the Prophet, my master has one of 
 his frequent attacks of gout. He entreats you to excuse 
 him for one or two days. As soon as he is able to walk he 
 will come to meet you. At the same time he requests you, 
 if you like, to invite whomever of the pashas in his army it 
 would give you pleasure to see. All desire to pay you their 
 homage." 
 
 A consummate dissembler, the face of the caftanji did 
 not alter. He had sworn to Chourshid that in this tragedy 
 he would skilfully act the part assigned him. 
 
 " Caftanji, do you swear by the day promised the faithful 
 faithful that there is no trap ? " asked Ali. 
 
 " May I be stoned like Aschram, if I am deceiving you, 
 my lord." 
 
 " Glory to the Prophet, the way of uprightness, I believe 
 you ; " and Ali extended to him his right hand. 
 
 The base envoy kissed it as hypocritically as he had 
 sworn. 
 
 " I would like to see Tachir Abas, Omer Brione, Hassan 
 Pasha, and the Silichdar. All these were once my under- 
 ofncers," he remarked with a laugh. " Or rather they were 
 my boys. I reared them all. In my school they studied. 
 I gave them to the community and promoted them to the 
 rank which they at present occupy." 
 
 On the following day all these officers came to visit Ali 
 Pasha. At first their conversation was devoted to remi- 
 niscences, and then fell on the general subject of the Greek 
 insurrection. Omer Brione arrogantly described the horrible 
 death of Diakos. 
 
 "I am utterly unable to recall this Diakos," said Ali 
 Pasha, "but his name made a great sensation." 
 
The Prediction Fulfilled 145 
 
 " He was the proto-pallikari of Odysseus, and was very- 
 young when attached to your court." 
 
 " I do not remember him. Did he die bravely ? " 
 
 " He endured his punishment without uttering a word, 
 without showing suffering. If he had not been so brave, I 
 would not have killed him. The reason why I roasted him 
 alive was to make dangerous people flee from our midst ! " 
 
 " Omer ! The Greeks will not be slow to inherit the last 
 rag of the sultan. Their freedom means our destruction. 
 If I had realized that, placed at their head, I should be 
 able to control them, I should not have hesitated. Omer 
 Brione, don't exult too much at the cruel death you inflicted 
 on the brave soldier. Remember that your defeat by a 
 hundred men at the Inn of Gravias, when you had eight 
 thousand, does not reflect great honor either upon you or 
 your army." 
 
 These words fell on Omer Brione like a thunder-bolt. 
 He crimsoned, bit his lips, and looked at the ground. 
 
 Tachir Abbas then began to praise Alexander Mavrocor- 
 datos, whose name was already filling Europe and whose 
 personal acquaintance he had made at the conference of 
 Vrachorion, when the hoplarchs and magistrates met at 
 Misolonghi and intrusted the direction of affairs in western 
 Greece to the Senate. At that time Ali Pasha wished to 
 gain the Greeks to his side, and had himself sent to them 
 three plenipotentiaries, of whom Tachir Abbas was one. 
 
 In this way eight days passed. The vizir of the sultan, 
 Chourshid Pasha, under the pretext, now of indisposition, 
 now of great suffering, daily put off his visit. 
 
 Finally Hassan Pasha, graceful and full of delight, came 
 with his officers to announce that the pardon had arrived. 
 
 Ali Pasha was transported with joy, and cried : " So it has 
 come at last ! Peace be upon you ! Now I believe, Hassan, 
 you are sincere ; " and he raised his hands toward heaven. 
 
 " It has arrived," Hassan Pasha repeated, " but my un- 
 erring master asks you, before you receive it, to order 
 Phechim Tzamais to put out his torch." 
 
 Ali half rose upon the divan, and, shaking his head, re- 
 peated, " No ! never ! " 
 
 "Vizir, you must show by deeds that you deserve the 
 pardon of the great Caliph of the two holy cities of Mecca 
 and Medina, the shadow of God upon earth, the mighty 
 sultan of sultans." 
 
 10 
 
146 Andronike 
 
 Ali fell into profound and anxious thought. He asked 
 Hassan Pasha to withdraw, that he might once more confer 
 with Botsaris. 
 
 The Suliot approached him gloomily. 
 
 " The pardon has arrived, Botsaris,' 7 said the satrap, with 
 constraint. " But before they give it to me they want me 
 to order Phechim to put out his torch." 
 
 Botsaris did not utter a word, but placed his hand on his 
 pistols. 
 
 " What do you mean ? Surely there is no trap ! If there 
 is, we will put fire at once." 
 
 " It is too late, vizir. All communication with the Place 
 of Safety has been cut off. Nothing else is left us but to 
 die, sword in hand." 
 
 The breast of the aged satrap was stifled for breath. His 
 cheeks became almost scarlet, his eyes grew dim. He 
 stroked his white beard and remained silent as death. 
 
 " It is horrible, but we will not die yet." He cried at 
 once, " Botsaris, call Hassan Pasha." 
 
 The minister of the Sublime Porte again entered, and 
 saluted like a humble servant. 
 
 "Hassan, the blessing of Ismail be upon me. I have 
 decided to show this obedience to my thrice revered master 
 the sultan," said Ali. " But I myself must return to Litha- 
 ritza or Phechim will not put out his torch. He is to obey 
 nothing but my own voice. Such were my commands." 
 
 Hassan was already prepared, and expected this answer. 
 
 " Mighty satrap, I swear to you upon our holy Koran, 
 by Allah, by the Prophet, by his daughter Phatimah, by 
 the finger of righteousness with which the angels write, 
 that the pardon has come from the Padishah ; but do not 
 desire yourself to return to Litharitza, for then you would 
 excite the suspicion of every one. The inhabitants and 
 the army, since you came to the island, have become quiet. 
 They would be excited again. I know that you have a 
 secret signal, and if you give it to Phechim, at once he will 
 put out the torch." 
 
 " No ! no ! I must return myself, Hassan." 
 
 " My lord ! my lion-hearted vizir ! I beg you. I adjure 
 you, in the name of our Prophet, do not so thoughtlessly lose 
 the pardon of our master. Besides, it is impossible for you 
 to return, for all communication between the island and the 
 dry land has been cut off." 
 
The Prediction Fulfilled 147 
 
 li You traitorous fox ! So it is a trap ! It is treason ; " 
 aud he put his hand to his pistol. 
 
 " I swear, by Allah of the east and the west, that there is 
 neither trap nor treason," said Hassan Pasha, "and why 
 should there be treason, my lord ? Do you not remember 
 the verse of the Koran, l Do not slay the faithful, who asks 
 for pardon ' ? Do you mistrust the word of our sultan, the 
 sultan of the two continents, the sovereign of the two oceans, 
 the sultan, the son of the sultan ? " 
 
 Then ensued a hot altercation between the satrap and 
 Hassan Pasha, in which, despite all his shrewdness and 
 craft, the pasha of Yanina was beguiled. Hope, the un- 
 certain refuge of every persecuted being, and the oaths of 
 the sultan's officer changed his decision. 
 
 He drew his talisman from his breast and handed it to 
 Hassan. " Show this to the guardian of my Place of Safet}^, 
 and you will see him at once transformed into a harmless 
 lamb." 
 
 In fact, as soon as Phechim saw the talisman, he kissed it 
 with respect and put out the torch. Instantly the unhappy 
 watchman was bathed in his own blood. Five sharp daggers 
 of the servants of Chourshid Pasha were planted in his heart. 
 
 In a few hours the sultan's army were in full possession 
 of the fortress and had raised their ensigns on its battle- 
 ments. Discharges of artillery from every direction an- 
 nounced the victory. 
 
 The torch of Phechim was for the ferocious tyrant like the 
 torch of Meleager. As long as it remained lighted fate could 
 not cut off his days. Once extinguished, Nemesis began to 
 place her hand on the head of the vile Albanian despot, who 
 had trampled on so many victims to attain his exalted place. 
 
 It was noon, and the cold was piercing. The horizon was 
 monotonous because white with snow, and the summer-house 
 was perfectly quiet. 
 
 As soon as Ali had given up his talisman he told Vasilike. 
 The girl of Pleschovitza did not utter a word, but her ex- 
 cited face and the mad way in which she seized and kissed 
 his hand showed how the tidings affected her. 
 
 He understood, and clasped her in his arms in silence, 
 though his lips did not dare to ask further what she 
 thought. Then he went to his reception-room in great 
 uneasiness and full of regret. 
 
 According to his custom, he sat down in the corner of the 
 
148 Andronike 
 
 divan opposite the door, both halves of which were left 
 open, that he might be the first to discover who was coining 
 and know what was occurring outside. So far not a bark 
 appeared in sight. 
 
 His pulse beat violently, and his face constantly changed. 
 He held the English glass in his hands, and turned it 
 incessantly toward every quarter of the lake. 
 
 Perama, his summer palace on the north, brought to his 
 mind the victims whom he was wont in other days to 
 drown there by night. The monastery of Saint Nicolas, 
 half hidden in the shade of a rose-tree forest, reminded 
 him of Euphrosyne and the eleven other mothers whom he 
 had slain under its walls. The frightful death, which was 
 drawing ever nearer, sent its attendants to daunt him in 
 the form of remorse and anxiety that was agony. 
 
 In the midst of his distress he saw barks approaching 
 the island. He laid down his glass and began with long 
 strides to pace the room. 
 
 " They are coming," he said to Botsaris, after an interval 
 of silence. 
 
 The gloomy Suliot laid his hands upon his pistols as his 
 only response. 
 
 " We shall use them, and I well understand it," said the 
 satrap. 
 
 After that moment they exchanged not a word and made 
 no sound. 
 
 It was five o'clock in the afternoon when Omer Brione, 
 Hassan Pasha, the caftanji, and a crowd of officers and 
 soldiers entered the summer-house. 
 
 "Stop!" Ali cried in a voice of thunder, addressing 
 Hassan. " What are you bringing me ? " 
 
 " The decision of my glorious and most high master. Do 
 you recognize this golden firman ? " 
 
 " I recognize it. Is it my pardon ? Is it ? " 
 
 " Glory to my enlightened sultan and to the unbending 
 tree of his bliss, upon which ten thousand birds sing his 
 praises. His decision demands your head, Ali, to adorn 
 Orta Kapou, the gate of his seraglio." 
 
 " Traitor, perjurer, hypocrite, the head of Ali does not 
 fall so easily ! " Like lightning, with the agility of youth, 
 he fired at Hassan Pasha. 
 
 The ball traversed the thigh of the sultan's officer, and 
 stretched him grievously wounded upon the ground. 
 
The Prediction Fulfilled 149 
 
 " Scoundrel, you are not safe yet," he thundered to the 
 caftanji. 
 
 In truth the second bullet was more effective. It laid 
 that officer dead upon the floor. 
 
 Konstantinos Botsaris had already slain two others, and at 
 the head of the Suliots fought like a lion with his sword. 
 The sultan's officers were disconcerted and began to flee 
 from the summer-house. 
 
 " Botsaris, I am wounded," cried the pasha. " Help me, 
 O God of the just ! " and he moaned with pain. 
 
 A bullet had pierced his breast. 
 
 " Blood is pouring from me," he added, trying to reach 
 Omer Brione. 
 
 The latter did not spare his ancient master. He stood 
 still, waited, took aim like a true Bedouin, and his bullet 
 went through the tyrant from one side to the other. 
 
 The voice of Ali was like the roar of a polar bear, and, 
 rallying once more his fainting strength, he endeavored 
 again to approach Omer Brione. 
 
 Meanwhile the soldiers outside the summer-house poured 
 a shower of bullets against it. One of them with fatal 
 effect struck the pasha on the os sacrum as he advanced 
 toward his foe. 
 
 The satrap did not utter a word at this third wound. His 
 mouth writhed, and his eyeballs rolled as in epilepsy. Let- 
 ting his arms fall from his hands, he grasped the window- 
 sash near the divan, and a moment after fell at full length. 
 
 "Hurry and kill Vasilike," he gasped to Botsaris. 
 " Jesus of Nazareth, save her ! Let her not fall into the 
 hands of these ruffians." 
 
 His eyes half closed. His failing hands moved mechani- 
 cally from one wound to the other, and his snowy beard was 
 bedraggled with blood. One awful groan and he expired. 
 
 All resistance was vain. The army fell upon the sum- 
 mer-house. Konstantinos Botsaris with the surviving Su- 
 liots leaped from the window and fled to the Monastery of 
 the Saviour, where they offered desperate resistance. 
 
 Only a few drops of blood still remained in the veins of 
 the scourge of Epirus, when the crowd entered where he 
 lay. 
 
 " The will of God has been done," the cadi proclaimed. 
 
 "Not yet has it been fully accomplished," replied the 
 silichdar. "The viper is still alive." Seizing him by the 
 
150 Andronike 
 
 foot, he dragged him to the verauda of the summer-house. 
 There he placed the neck of the tyrant against the edge 
 of one of the steps, and after repeated blows cut off his 
 head. 
 
 The same evening the head was washed, filled with spices, 
 and sent in a golden dish to the commander-in-chief of the 
 sultan. 
 
 The aged Chourshid rose up respectfully to receive it. 
 He bowed low three times before it, reverently kissed the 
 white beard, and prayed that he might himself have a like 
 memorable end. 
 
 How unknown is one's destiny! How ill-fated are the 
 servants of the Sublime Porte ! Chourshid Pasha, the 
 dreaded general, who had ruled the Mamlouks of Egypt, 
 conquered the Servians, and subdued the Skepitari of 
 Epirus, only a few months afterwards was condemned to 
 death on accusation of having himself appropriated the 
 treasures of Ali Pasha. 
 
 In November of the same year, before the arrival of the 
 executioner, while near the walls of Larissa, Chourshid 
 took poison with absolute apathy, and thus ended his days. 
 At least he had the comfort of knowing that his head would 
 not ornament, as did that of the Pasha of Yanina, the skull- 
 embellished gate of the sultan. 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE PRISONERS 
 
 Vasilike, Kyra R , Chryse, the wife, and Angelike, 
 
 the sister, of Markos Botsaris, Konstantinos Botsaris, and 
 the unfortunate artillery commander, Carreto, were brought 
 under guard to the palace hall of the slain Ali, which was 
 already occupied by the general-in-chief of the sultan. 
 
 Nobody spoke but Kyra R . Regardless of her own 
 
 situation, she continually scolded the unhappy Carreto for 
 the flight of her lover. 
 
 "Let the poor man alone," said Konstantinos Botsaris 
 harshly, breaking his long silence. " Since we were cap- 
 tured, you have done nothing but talk of Diamante" 
 
The Prisoners 151 
 
 u It seems," remarked one of the Suliots, " that she was 
 in love herself with Captain Andronikos, and, because he 
 left her and went off with another woman, she is torment- 
 ing the father." 
 
 Kyra R was at first struck dumb. The soldier had 
 
 touched her sensitive point. She turned upon him like 
 a mad woman. " You impudent fellow, if you say another 
 word, I will throw my shoe at your head." 
 
 All began to laugh, except Chryse and Vasilike, who 
 seemed changed into marble. 
 
 " You laugh," shrieked Kyra B . " I will teach you 
 
 better ; " and she hurled her heavy sandal at the man who 
 had spoken. 
 
 Life on the mountains had taught them scant courtesy. 
 
 The soldier threw his cap at her, and Kyra R , seizing 
 
 a stool, rushed upon him. 
 
 The guards then interfered and brought them before the 
 chief of the prison. As the latter was unable to keep the 
 peace, he appealed to the newly appointed caftanji of 
 the vizir, whose predecessor had been slain by Ali Pasha. 
 This officer was no other than Barthakas himself. 
 
 After the teacher's successful duplicity at Patras, he had 
 been sent to Tripolitsa as steward and secretary of the 
 harem of Chourshid Pasha. When after a long siege 
 the city was captured by the Greeks, by a succession of 
 tricks he contrived secretly to obtain possession of the 
 great number of diamonds and precious stones belonging to 
 the ladies of the harem. With his plunder he managed 
 to embark for Trieste ; but the vessel was obliged to put 
 into the Bay of Arta, near which Chourshid Pasha was 
 encamped. 
 
 On lauding, Barthakas pretended to be a Turk, and went 
 at once to Chourshid to give him news about his harem, 
 still in captivity. He represented himself as having been 
 their faithful guardian, and persuaded the vizir that the 
 preservation of their lives and honor was due to his skilful 
 intercession. He so insinuated himself into the good graces 
 of the aged commander as to be appointed his caftanji. 
 
 As the names of Andronikos and Diamanto frequently 
 
 recurred on the lips of Kyra R , while stating her 
 
 quarrel, his curiosity was aroused, and forthwith he com- 
 menced a minute examination. 
 
 Omer Brione and some other officers were present. 
 
152 Andronike 
 
 " Lady, the cause of your quarrel appears to be a certain 
 Andronikos. Where did you meet him ? " he asked. 
 
 "In the cave." 
 
 " What do you mean by the cave?" 
 
 " The palace of my relative, Odysseus." 
 
 "When did he come to the cave?" 
 
 " After the death of Diakos." 
 
 " Was he in the fight at Zeitouni ? " asked Barthakas, 
 moving uneasily on his seat. 
 
 " He had that good luck. Odysseus found him terribly 
 wounded and lying in a pile of dead, and carried him to 
 the cave. The wife of Odysseus and I cured him." 
 
 " Then he is alive ? He recovered ? Where did he go 
 afterwards ? " 
 
 "He went with us to Gravias." 
 
 " Were you yourself at Gravias ? " asked, with surprise, 
 Omer Brione, who was toying with his beads. 
 
 " Surely I was, and I knocked one of your soldiers down 
 from the wall." 
 
 " Speak with more reserve," said Omer Brione, angrily. 
 "Remember that, if then you escaped the gun, you are now 
 sitting on the edge of the sword." 
 
 "Don't threaten, my Brione, and don't talk so loud, for 
 the harem of your vizir are in the hands of my relatives. 
 What you do to us they will do to them," said the Suliot, 
 shrugging her shoulders and turning again to Barthakas. 
 
 Omer moved angrily. After he had twice walked across 
 the room, he stopped and looked at her. 
 
 " What did Andronikos do at the battle of Gravias ? " 
 Barthakas asked. 
 
 "He fought like a man. His arms were like rocks, and 
 his head was a fortress. His ball killed your silichtar, 
 Omer Brione, and he aimed at you once, but you got out of 
 the way." 
 
 Omer quivered with rage. The insolence of Kyra R- 
 
 was unendurable. He was furious that all the Christians 
 were not in his power, so as to give them the death of 
 Diakos. 
 
 "What sort of a man is this Andronikos ? " 
 
 " He is a gentleman, handsome as a woman, but young 
 and without a moustache." 
 
 "It is certainly my pupil," said Barthakas to himself, 
 "and she is alive \" Rising, he paced the chamber with 
 
The Prisoners 153 
 
 long steps. " After the battle of Gravias, what became of 
 him ? " he asked. 
 
 " General Odysseus quickly sent him back to the cave to 
 give his wife the news of the victory." 
 
 •"Of what victory? There was no victory at all. Satan 
 snatched you from my fingers," Brione interrupted with 
 increased resentment. 
 
 " So it was not victory ! Well ! well ! So it was not 
 victory ! Odysseus with a hundred armatoli drove you back 
 with your eight thousand, and it was not a victory ! We 
 did not lose five pallikaris, dear mother, and we laid out 
 fifteen hundred of your people. Ha ! ha ! ha ! " 
 
 Then bending her head and body to the right, and carry- 
 ing her hand to the left as if seeking her sword, Kyra 
 
 R . continued boasting : " After we left off fighting, we 
 
 passed through the middle of your soldiers, and it was not 
 a victory ? Ask whomever you please, Brione. Don't get 
 angry at the truth. Ask anybody you wish, if it was not 
 a victory." 
 
 The bey became livid, and his mouth twitched; but 
 Barthakas said with his infernal smile, "Do not quarrel 
 with her, effendi. She is a woman." 
 
 "A woman! But I am as big as three of your size," 
 cried Kyra R *, 
 
 " Let us go on. He returned to the cave," said Barthakas, 
 resuming his gravity. 
 
 "Then he stole the daughter of the artillery officer. He 
 bewitched her. Perhaps he married her. Now you know 
 just as much as I do." 
 
 After the examination the caftanji dismissed Kyra R , 
 
 though, for her satisfaction, he inflicted a slight penalty on 
 the soldier who had insulted her. 
 
 In a few days the prisoners and twenty thousand pistoles 
 were exchanged for the harem of the vizir. 
 
 Carreto was not released. The wily Barthakas imagined 
 that Andronike and Diamanto would try to find the artillery 
 commander, and so he endeavored to retain him. Never- 
 theless Chourshid Pasha, after a few months, thought best 
 to intrust him with the supervision of some Ottoman ships 
 at Venice which the Sublime Porte sent there for repairs. 
 
 The unfortunate officer became almost blind, and died 
 among the docks of that city without ever having known 
 his daughter Diamanto. 
 
154 Andronike 
 
 They carried Vasilike to Constantinople. Her reputation 
 of having rescued many from the claws of the tyrant saved 
 her life. A house was assigned her near the patriarchate, 
 in which she lived in seclusion for a considerable time, 
 devoting herself to penitence and prayer. So poor was slie 
 that the patriarch had to solicit the charity of Christians 
 at the capital in her behalf. After a few months the 
 Sublime Porte permitted her to take from Yanina all her 
 clothing, which, being embroidered with diamonds and 
 pearls, afforded her a subsistence. 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE PRISON OF MUNKACS 
 
 After the defeat of Dragatzana Thrasyboulos tried to 
 escape to Transylvania, but was arrested on the frontier by 
 the Austrian patrol. He was seized, placed in a wagon, and 
 forced to ride for many hours without knowing whither. 
 At last they reached the Hungarian fortress of Munkacs. 
 
 It was about midnight when the jailer received him. 
 In silence they traversed arched subterranean passages, 
 ascended and descended stairways, opened and closed iron 
 doors, and at last arrived at a low court, with doors on all 
 sides, each admitting to a different cell. The jailer noisily 
 opened one, and pushed Thrasyboulos inside. 
 
 Thrasyboulos cast his eyes round the cell, and saw a 
 narrow room with a low ceiling and a thick iron pillar ris- 
 ing from the middle. A small bed without mattress, a 
 cheap wooden table, and a chair were its only furniture. 
 
 After the jailer had departed, the nephew of the patri- 
 arch for a long time did not change his position, but stood 
 still and peered into the utter darkness. At last he 
 groped to his bed, and as the rattle of his chains echoed 
 from the ceiling, he felt the cold perspiration start. From 
 the clanking of chains on the right and left, both above 
 and below his room, he inferred the prison had no lack of 
 inmates. 
 
 All that night he did not close his eyes. When next 
 morning about ten o'clock the jailer brought him a little 
 
The Prison of Munkacs 155 
 
 food, for which he was compelled to pay, the faint daylight 
 enabled him to realize more fully the wretchedness of his 
 abode. 
 
 " If the prisoner has no money to pay for his food, what 
 happens then ? " Thrasyboulos asked. 
 
 "The government pays, but they put him two stories 
 lower down, and not in such an elegant room, with bed and 
 tables. Sir, do not laugh ! When you see the other cells, 
 you will consider yours a palace." 
 
 Thrasyboulos for some minutes did not speak. Then he 
 took a gold piece from his purse, and gave it to the jailer. 
 
 a What is this?" 
 
 "To drink my health." 
 
 " To drink your health ! You have money like that with 
 you ! " 
 
 " I have a little left. I am rich and can get more money. 
 If you will help me to write a letter, I will give you some- 
 thing better." 
 
 44 1 am very sorry, sir, that I cannot do any such thing. 
 Nobody is allowed paper and pens. I was asked the same 
 favor by Baron Schoenwairth, who is on the same floor in 
 the cell next yours." 
 
 "Who is Baron Schoenwairth ? " 
 
 " He seems to me to be a Russian." 
 
 " A Russian ! Why is he shut up here ? " 
 
 " For the same reason as yourself : he fought in Moldo- 
 Wallachia." 
 
 "What does he look like ?" 
 
 " Moderate height, forehead high and somewhat bald, and 
 no right arm." 
 
 " Stop ! " said Thrasyboulos, rubbing his forehead. " Is 
 he alone in the prison ?" 
 
 "Yes, he is alone; but his two brothers and three or 
 four of their attendants are in other cells apart." 
 
 The statements of the jailer left no doubt that Baron 
 Schoenwairth was Prince Alexander Ypsilantis himself. 
 
 The jailer was about to go when Thrasyboulos detained 
 him with the question, " What is the last news from the 
 Greek struggle ? " 
 
 " What struggle do you mean ? The rebellion ? It was 
 crushed some time ago, entirely put down. The Turks 
 cut off the heads of all the Greeks, and the affair ended. 
 At least our journals say so." 
 
156 Andronike 
 
 " Your journals ! My friend, your press states matters 
 just as your government wishes." 
 
 The jailer shut the door and withdrew. 
 
 That night he was exhausted by discouragement and did 
 not wake until the jailer opened the door. " Good morning. 
 I bring you good news," said he, as he entered. 
 
 " Is it true ? What is it ? " 
 
 " We have orders from Vienna to let you write and read, 
 and you may take a walk two hours a day." 
 
 Thrasyboulos rubbed his eyes and thought he must be 
 dreaming. 
 
 " There are three large rooms above, close to the guard. 
 I have put Baron Schoenwairth there, with his brothers and 
 attendants. I am going to put you there too, so you will all 
 be together. You yourself have not suffered at all, because 
 you have just arrived; but all the rest have spent two 
 whole months in this dreary prison." 
 
 The same day he was transferred to the apartment where 
 he found Prince Alexander Ypsilantis with his brothers and 
 friends. 
 
 They were allowed to go about freely in the fortress, and 
 sometimes to take a drive, attended by guards. Their de- 
 tention would have been endurable but for the rude and in- 
 solent bearing of the officer in charge. The long winter 
 nights of 1821 they spent talking about Greece, and going 
 over its ancient history. Ypsilantis often narrated his mil- 
 itary experiences. He told how he defeated the French at 
 Polozk in 1812, and about the German expeditions and the 
 battle of Dresden, where his arm and sword were carried off 
 by a ball. The health of the prince sensibly suffered by 
 confinement, and his face had a deathly look. One evening 
 he was more indisposed than usual, and sat near the stove, 
 gloomy and silent, surrounded by his companions, when 
 the porter entered and handed him a bundle of letters. 
 While reading one of them, he began to shed tears. It was 
 from his brother, Demetrios, and announced his arrival at 
 Hydra. When Alexander crossed the Pruth and raised the 
 Greek Revolutionary flag, he sent his brother as his deputy 
 by way of Trieste to the Peloponnesus. 
 
 " It is a strange coincidence," he said, " that my brother 
 reached Hydra the very day of our defeat at Dragatzana. 
 Oh, what comfort is poured upon my soul by the victories 
 which he describes, and by the enthusiasm of his reception 
 
The Prison of Munkacs 157 
 
 at Hydra ! No, gentlemen, the struggle is not ended, and 
 the Austrians give us worthless information. We may 
 trust the guidance of God and the devotion of the Greeks. 
 Listen to what my brother writes : < When we reached Trieste, 
 the wives of our merchants there with their own fingers 
 worked us a flag bearing the words Liberty or Death. 
 While embroidering this flag they sang with tears of joy 
 the song of Rhegas, — 
 
 O my children, 
 
 O my orphans, 
 Scattered here and there ! 
 
 Insult-bearing, 
 
 Persecuted 
 By men everywhere.' " 
 
 The prisoners rose and pressed their lips to the letter. 
 When they realized that the Greek conflict had not ended, 
 but was progressing victoriously, their joy became trans- 
 port, and a new life appeared on their worn faces. 
 
 " A curse on that Caravias ! " said Thrasyboulos. " The 
 great Alexander has fled somewhere in Austria. Who 
 knows in what prison he is rotting ? " 
 
 " Cannot we escape ? " said Nicolas Ypsilantis. 
 
 " Escape ! " repeated his brother Alexander and all the 
 rest together. " It is impossible, and not to be thought of, 
 because the moment the first one of us disappears, all the 
 rest will be more rigorously confined and watched." 
 
 " If we spend our money well, I think the thing is pos- 
 sible," said Thrasyboulos. 
 
 "It is a dangerous undertaking," said another. "Be- 
 sides, the prince is so feeble at present that a violent mental 
 shock might kill him." 
 
 Their conversation stopped at that point, and soon each 
 one withdrew to his couch. Thrasyboulos was burning 
 with the two fires of patriotism and love. He saw that the 
 Greek struggle was but begun. From that moment he 
 watched earnestly for some means whereby he might bid 
 farewell to the thick walls of Munkacs. 
 
158 Andronike 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE FLIGHT 
 
 At first Thrasyboulos abandoned the idea of flight, real- 
 izing that, if he escaped from the fortress of Munkacs, 
 Prince Ypsilantis would be more rigorously confined. But 
 as time went on, the health of the prince showed no im- 
 provement, and Austria seemed fully determined to hold 
 the fugitives until the last spark of the Greek struggle was 
 extinguished. So his duty to his country and his love for 
 Andronike compelled him to banish every other sentiment 
 and flee if possible. 
 
 He drew a large part of his funds from Odessa, for the 
 words of King Philip were always in his mind, " Every gate 
 is opened by gold." 
 
 He began to pretend that he was suffering from gout, and 
 bathed his face in wormwood tea, so as to give himself the 
 sickly complexion of an invalid. Gradually he awoke the 
 pity of his fellow-prisoners and of the commander of 
 the guard, who permitted him to take long rides twice a 
 week beyond the limits of the fortress. 
 
 At the beginning of the revolution many Greek vessels 
 were on the Black Sea, and, being unable to return by way 
 of the Bosphorus, they were brought by their sailors to 
 Odessa and sold there. These sailors to the number of 
 fifteen hundred obtained Russian passports from Count 
 Lanzeron and went to Brody in Galicia, hoping from there 
 to reach Trieste and thence embark for the Peloponnesus. 
 These passports were not personal, but each included twenty 
 individuals. It seems incredible when we say that during 
 this present enlightened century those unfortunate Greeks 
 travelled through the heart of civilized Europe and encoun- 
 tered hardships like those of the twelve tribes in the wil- 
 derness. Many looked toward Greece as their land of 
 promise, but few among them ever again trod its soil. They 
 endured every privation and insult upon the way, and often 
 suffered from lack of food. At the town of Brody they 
 divided into two companies. 
 
 One company, consisting of eleven hundred men, on 
 foot and without shoes, wandered across Germany to 
 
The Flight 159 
 
 Hamburg, leaving dead comrades in every city through 
 which they passed. At Hamburg no European ship would 
 undertake to carry them to Greece, for they were paupers. 
 They turned back again to Germany, ascended the Rhine 
 to Switzerland, and thence passed to France, enduring 
 new want, new hardships and suffering. Finally half their 
 number reached Marseilles, after a journey of more than 
 two years. 
 
 The other company of four hundred started for Vienna. 
 They reached that city, and were there arbitrarily detained. 
 Their poverty became so great that the Austrian capital 
 would have become their graveyard, had not the nuncio 
 of the pope and some wealthy citizens come to their relief 
 and obtained their liberation. The majority took the 
 direction of Ancona, and from there went to Leghorn, 
 where they arrived at the same time as did the remnants 
 of the other party at Marseilles. A few came back to 
 Hungary and tried to cross Transylvania again and get to 
 Bucharest. 
 
 Toward the beginning of May, 1822, Thrasyboulos, 
 while taking a drive outside the fortress, stopped at a 
 rustic cafe. 
 
 At that moment two swarthy men, with long and 
 neglected hair and beard, ragged and covered with dust, 
 stopped there also. They took their wallets from their 
 shoulders and placed them on the stones. 
 
 "I am done up, Nicolas," said one of them, with that 
 slow, prolonged pronunciation which characterizes the 
 inhabitants of the islands Hydra and Spezzia. 
 
 " Ah, my poor fellow, we have been walking six steady 
 hours." 
 
 " I want to see if these people can make out what we 
 say to them. Eh, boy ! look here," he cried to one of the 
 waiters. "How much for that bread ? " 
 
 The waiter did not understand the question, but he saw 
 that it had to do with the bread to which the Greek pointed. 
 So he laughed, and motioned with his fingers as if he 
 understood. 
 
 Thrasyboulos was at first surprised as he heard them 
 talk ; then he addressed them in Greek. 
 
 To the unhappy islanders he appeared an angel of light 
 in their darkness. They fell upon his neck and embraced 
 him, and with curses began to describe the sufferings they 
 
160 Andronike 
 
 had endured. They belonged to the party of four hundred 
 which had been detained in Vienna. 
 
 Seeing that their Russian passport was for twenty 
 persons together, of whom some had died of hardship and 
 others had remained in the cities through which they were 
 passing, he lost no time in telling them who he was and 
 how unjustly Austria had imprisoned him. He asked 
 their assistance, and offered himself to defray the expenses 
 of the journey. In a short time everything was agreed. 
 
 That evening about sunset, Thrasyboulos went down to 
 the stable of the commander. 
 
 A groom was cleaning the horses. It was the same 
 man who drove the carriage of Thrasyboulos whenever he 
 went to ride. He was a small-bodied man of about fifty, 
 with an honest face. He was talking to one of the horses 
 with that German kindness and patience to which the noble 
 nature of those animals always responds. 
 
 " He knows you wonderfully well," said Thrasyboulos. 
 
 " Certainly, sir. I brought him up, the little rascal ! " 
 he added, stroking him gently. The animal, while being 
 caressed, playfully bit the hat of the groom. 
 
 " Carl, how old is this horse ? M 
 
 " About five." 
 
 " And have you been five years in this fortress ? " 
 
 "I ! I have been here just twenty-eight years." 
 
 " Twenty-eight ! . . . buried in these walls without 
 seeing the best of the world ! " 
 
 " I was twenty-two years in the prison and six outside." 
 
 " Is it possible ? " 
 
 "xind what a prison! Fifteen years I was chained in 
 the deepest part of the dungeon, where there is always 
 mud from the dampness." 
 
 "You must have committed some awful crime." 
 
 The groom looked in every direction to see if anybody 
 heard, and quietly said, " Crime ! My only crime was that I 
 fought for liberty." 
 
 Thrasyboulos started at the last word of Carl. 
 
 " Yes, sir, liberty ! I am a Hungarian. When I was 
 a young man, nothing so hurt me as the subjection of my 
 country. All Austria could not contain me. Therefore 
 I fled to France, where after their revolution it was 
 reported on all sides that liberty was to be found. I 
 enrolled in the cavalry, and was attached to the army of 
 
The Flight 161 
 
 General Moreau on the Rhine, but I was made prisoner by 
 the archduke Charles. My punishment was death, because 
 I had fought against Austria. How my life was saved I 
 do not myself know. They sent me here, where I passed 
 just twenty-two years in this prison. Six years ago I 
 was released. I hurried off to see my relatives. Where 
 were they ? In that space of time all had died. I was 
 stranded in the world. I did not know what to do, for, 
 when any one heard that I had been in prison twenty-two 
 years, he would not take me in his service. So I came 
 back here again of my own accord, and became the groom 
 of the commander." 
 
 " What wages do you get ? " 
 
 " Ten francs every three months and my food." 
 
 " Only so much ! " 
 
 " Only so much ! That is royal pay. There are other 
 people here who do not get ten francs a year." 
 
 " If 1 were free, poor Carl, I would take you in my service, 
 and I would pay you one hundred francs a month and 
 your board, because, besides being a good man, you have an 
 idea of liberty." 
 
 " The ' if ' and the l would/ sir, before people are married, 
 fill the world with children." 
 
 " You do not believe words. Here are works, then ; " and 
 he handed the groom thirty francs in gold pieces. 
 
 " What are these things for ? " 
 
 " Do they seem to you little ? Here are just as many 
 more," said Thrasyboulos. 
 
 « But, truly, sir ! . . . " 
 
 " I have some more if those are not enough," added the 
 nephew of the patriarch. 
 
 " Enough ! Enough ! " 
 
 " Listen, Carl ! I am very rich. My only crime was 
 that I also fought for liberty. If you can help me to 
 escape from this prison, I promise you, as soon as we have 
 once passed the frontiers of Austria, ten thousand francs 
 straight to your hand and the wages I offered you, if you 
 remain with me." 
 
 The groom was almost beside himself with astonishment. 
 Every moment his face changed expression. 
 
 "Whatever depends on me, sir," he whispered; "I am 
 not so blind but I can see the sun when it shines. Still, 
 without a passport we can accomplish nothing. You cannot 
 
 11 
 
162 Andronike 
 
 get a passport here without identification and guarantee. 
 If I myself had been able to get one, I would not have 
 stayed in this vile Austria." 
 
 " I have a Eussian passport for twenty men ; " and he 
 narrated the story of the wandering sailors. 
 
 They arranged the details of the flight as follows : The 
 sailors' passport was to be stamped for Bucharest by the 
 authorities as well as by the Ottoman consul. Each must 
 select a name from those on the passport. Thrasyboulos 
 was to pretend severe illness, to put his feet in hot water, 
 and to insist on not being disturbed the next day until he 
 himself called his chamber servant. At midnight he 
 was to rise and to arrange some garments on the bed so 
 as to look like a human body, and then to descend to the 
 court, where Carl was to wait for him. At dawn both of 
 them, dressed as grooms, were to ride the commander's 
 horses out from the fortress on pretence of giving the 
 animals water as usual. 
 
 This scheme succeeded admirably. As soon as they were 
 once outside the thick walls of Munkacs, they put on the 
 other clothes they had provided, got two more horses for 
 their companions, and galloped away. 
 
 They travelled day and night, stopping only to change 
 horses. When they arrived at the Carpathians, Thra- 
 syboulos wrote a very courteous letter to the commander 
 of the garrison, wherein he described the manner of their 
 flight. He did this, so that officer might be convinced 
 that the princes Ypsilantis not only did not assist his 
 escape, but were themselves resigned to endure their 
 present condition. As a convincing proof of his state- 
 ments he sent back his passport, which, although for 
 twenty men, he had not shown his fellow prisoners, nor 
 offered them the use of it. Finally, he stated at what 
 station he had left the horses, and asked the commander 
 to send after them. 
 
The Invitation 163 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE INVITATION 
 
 After reaching Bucharest Thrasyboulos remained there 
 for several days to recruit. Unable from that place to 
 obtain information about Andronike, he bade good-by as 
 soon as possible to his two fellow companions from Hydra, 
 leaving them sufficient money for their expenses, and 
 attended only by Carl started with the post for Yanina, 
 that thence he might cross to the Ionian Islands and finally 
 reach the Peloponnesus. 
 
 He travelled under the name of Count Andronikoff, and 
 wore deep blue eyeglasses. He was provided with a Rus- 
 sian passport which he obtained at the capital of Moldo- 
 Wallachia, and also procured letters of introduction from 
 one consul to another. He arrived in the capital of Epirus 
 while the inhabitants were still excited over the tragic end 
 of Ali Pasha. Travellers from all directions were flocking 
 thither to see the tyrant's impregnable Place of Safety. 
 He too and the Russian consul went to visit the fortress 
 of Litharitza. 
 
 Omer Brione and the caftanji came out to receive them. 
 Barthakas did not at once recognize Thrasyboulos. The 
 sufferings which the latter had undergone had greatly 
 changed his appearance. Besides, when in the Pelopon- 
 nesus three years before, he wore the Greek costume, but 
 now he was dressed as a European and had large colored 
 eyeglasses. 
 
 Thrasyboulos, however, at once recognized the crooked 
 and deformed teacher. He was amazed, and unable to 
 conjecture how the apostate had become a Mussulman and 
 had reached the rank of caftanji. Barthakas, on the other 
 hand, wished to show that among the higher classes of 
 the Ottomans are persons who are acquainted with the 
 French language. So he addressed himself at once to 
 Count Andronikoff. He began a distorted and disconnected 
 description of Ali Pasha, and finally asked certain questions 
 to which the lover of his pupil was obliged to reply. 
 
 The face of Barthakas revealed a multitude of impres- 
 sions when the voice of Thrasyboulos sounded in his ears ! 
 
164 Andronike 
 
 He fastened his staring eyes upon him ; he almost rose to 
 the tips of his toes, and mechanically twisted the folds of 
 his cravat. When absolutely certain who the Kussian 
 .count was, he showed by every motion and look that he 
 was terribly ill at ease. The Russian consul at that 
 moment was a little in advance, with Omer Brione. Bar- 
 thakas interrupted his walk so that they two might be 
 left farther behind, and, standing still, suddenly said, " Do 
 you not recognize me, Thrasyboulos ? " 
 
 " Don't I recognize you ! How did you succeed in be- 
 coming caftanji, Kyrios Barthakas?" 
 
 " And how did you yourself become Count Andronikoff ? " 
 
 "Necessity made me change my name, but not my 
 religion." 
 
 "The same with me! Necessity made me change my 
 name, but not my religion." 
 
 "But only an Ottoman can become caftanji." 
 
 " Truly ; but up to the present I have passed the three tests 
 of an Ottoman without ever in fact being circumcised." 
 
 " I do not understand you." 
 
 " It is very easy. Whenever any one speaks Turkish as 
 well as a dervish, when he wears the turban, and when he 
 takes off his shoes respectfully on going into a mosque, who 
 can suspect that he is not a Mussulman ? " 
 
 At the cynical manner of the dwarf, Thrasyboulos re- 
 called the Barthakas of the tower. He reflected that he 
 was entirely in his hands, and resolved to use discretion 
 in dealing with him. Besides, since the fragment of An- 
 dronike's letter, saved by Dracoulis from the flames on the 
 evening before the battle of Dragatzana, had referred to 
 the death of her father and brother, he thought that if 
 he pretended ignorance and did not ask questions, he 
 would persuade the former teacher to tell him what had 
 happened. 
 
 " What news have you from the demogeront ? When 
 did you leave the tower ? " he asked him. 
 
 " The demogeront ! Don't you know what has happened ? 
 In this long time have you had no letter from Andronike ? " 
 he asked in turn, with gaping mouth. 
 
 " From Andronike ! How could I learn what has hap- 
 pened ? On the death of the patriarch I fled from Con- 
 stantinople. I never heard anything about her, and I have 
 received no letter from my betrothed." 
 
The Invitation 165 
 
 "And where were you all this time, Kyrios Thrasybou- 
 los?" asked Barthakas, coming to himself. 
 
 "I went with the remains of the patriarch to Odessa. 
 From there I joined the Sacred Legion. After the battle 
 of Dragatzana I fled to Austria, that I might cross to the 
 Peloponnesus, but was arrested and thrown into the dun- 
 geons of Munkacs, where also Alexander Ypsilantis is con- 
 fined. Only a few days ago I left there, and now I am on 
 my way with a Russian passport to the Peloponnesus." 
 
 Barthakas was fully persuaded that Thrasyboulos knew 
 nothing of the frightful scene with the Laliots. 
 
 " Therefore you know nothing about your Andronike," 
 he said, pressing his lips together. 
 
 " Nothing ! nothing ! " 
 
 " I shall be the bearer of distressing news." 
 
 " I am ready, Kyrios Barthakas, to hear you. When 
 Greece is in such a lawless condition, what can one expect 
 to hear but distressing news ? " 
 
 " One evening, while we were sitting in the tower and 
 saying good things about you, the Laliots broke in and 
 butchered the demogeront and his son and all who were 
 with him. I remember it was Lent ; by good lack that 
 evening I had put on Turkish clothes, so as to give my 
 pupil a little diversion, for she was much depressed on your 
 account. As soon as I saw the Laliots and the heads fall- 
 ing, I did not lose my wits. I pretended that I was a Turk 
 myself, and that I had been sent from Tripolitsa to invite 
 the demogeront to come there, where all the demogeronts 
 of the Morea usually assembled. The lie saved my life, 
 but Andronike they carried off with them." 
 
 " Andronike ! What became of the poor girl ? " 
 
 " The Laliot chief kept her several months with him." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " said Thrasyboulos, beating his 
 forehead. 
 
 "Afterwards Andreas Metaxas bought her from the 
 Laliots, and the rumor ran that she lived a long time with 
 him, though I know nothing about it. But I am interrupt- 
 ing my story. I was left in the hands of the Turks. When 
 they saw that I spoke two or three languages, oxen that 
 they are, they took me for a great man, made me a high 
 secretary, and now caftanji." 
 
 " And what became of Andronike ? " Thrasyboulos asked 
 with white lips. 
 
166 Andronike 
 
 " I never saw her again. You know how romantic she 
 was. She put on a man's clothes and went to Thermopylae 
 to fight. Evil tongues again reported that she lived there 
 with Diakos. From there she went to the Corycian Cave 
 in Parnassus, and there was more scandal. It was rumored 
 that Odysseus came near divorcing his wife Elene on her 
 account. Finally, to cut my story short, I learned recently 
 that she was at the Inn of Gravias, and fell in love with a 
 soldier and fled with him." 
 
 " Are all these stories true that you have been tell- 
 ing me ? " cried Thrasyboulos, in confusion, and growing 
 cold. 
 
 " I guarantee nothing. I tell you only common report. 
 The one thing that I personally know is that the robber 
 disappeared with my unfortunate pupil. Do you imagine, 
 Thrasyboulos, that Andronike is now that fair and tender 
 maiden whom you once knew ? If you should see her, you 
 would not recognize her. She is completely changed. One 
 lady who saw her shortly before the battle of Gravias, told 
 me that her face was besmeared with paint." 
 
 "Oh, my God! What harm have I done to the world 
 that you afflict me so cruelly ? Oh, my beloved, angel of 
 my eyes ! No, I do not believe you ! I beseech you, Kyrios 
 Barthakas, tell me, are these things true ? " 
 
 The unhappy young man was unable to conceive that 
 their shrewd enemy, unscrupulous as he was, could fabri- 
 cate such charges. On the one hand he recalled the virtues 
 of his promised bride and the fragment of her letter, and 
 inclined to believe her innocent ; yet on the other he was 
 compelled to acknowledge that a friendless and defenceless 
 woman could not long resist violence and the force of 
 circumstances. 
 
 It was unquestionably true that her wicked slanderer 
 had planted deep-rooted suspicions in the heart of the 
 unha.ppy youth. Andronike was no longer a spotless vir- 
 gin in his mind. 
 
 " Here we have not time, dear friend, to talk about 
 events which afflict my own heart no less than yours. The 
 consul and Omer Brione are approaching. It is best for 
 us both to conceal who we are. Control your grief. I 
 beg you to-night do me the honor of paying me a visit and 
 we will talk more fully. I, my dear Thrasyboulos, always 
 liked you, although you always had a bad opinion of me. 
 
The Trap 167 
 
 Apparently } r ou did not understand me, or at least jealousy- 
 did not let you understand me." 
 
 With these words Barthakas pressed the cold hand of 
 Thrasyboulos, but his eyes glared like those of a hawk at 
 the betrothal ring. 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE TRAP 
 
 After Barthakas returned home from his interview with 
 Thrasyboulos, he paced his room with long, slow steps. 
 The lash which Andronike had given him in the tower, and 
 her contemptuous treatment of him at Patras, were not 
 easily blotted from the memory of his ignoble soul. 
 
 As long as he was separated from her, jealousy and 
 brutal longing, the chief ingredients of his love, were con- 
 verted to thirst for revenge. His passion became all the 
 more a thirst of Tantalus, when now he enjoyed a vantage- 
 ground from which to meet his pupil. 
 
 In her place fortune had thrown in his way Thrasyboulos, 
 the chief cause of all his troubles. He had felt sure that 
 the head of Thrasyboulos was one of the ten thousand 
 which adorned the awful altar of the patriarch Gregory and 
 his suite, but now Thrasyboulos had appeared again in the 
 
 flesh. Moreover, Kyra R had asserted that his pupil 
 
 not only was alive, but had proved herself brave in war. 
 Fear and revenge made the caftanji study earnestly how 
 he might be delivered from these two antagonists. 
 
 His glowing imagination could devise only one course, 
 and that was by a new crime to cover up the old. 
 
 He called his groom, an Albanian Gheg of formidable 
 appearance. 
 
 "Kara Seid Ali," he said to him, "the time has come for 
 me to find out whether you are faithful to me, and to seal 
 your good fortune once for all with the pay of five hundred 
 pieces a year." 
 
 The Albanian laid his hand on his weapons, signifying 
 that he was ready to obey. 
 
 " At the same time you will also be serving the Koran," 
 continued the caftanji. 
 
168 Andronike 
 
 "Speak, effendi." 
 
 "To-night I am expecting a Russian count. He is my 
 bitter enemy and the enemy of the Mussulmans. I shall 
 detain him until midnight. When he goes out to return to 
 the Russian consulate, do you and your two men seize him 
 and throw him with a cannon-ball round his neck into the 
 lake. Before you drown him, take his ring from his finger 
 and bring it to me." 
 
 " Is that all ? A good deal of broth for little trouble ! " 
 
 " Listen, Kara Seid Ali, the affair is very difficult, and I 
 want you to understand it so. The Russian is a pallikari, 
 and he always has pistols with him. Then, if he calls out 
 or the Russian consul hears about it, neither my head nor 
 that of Chourshid will be safe." 
 
 " I understand," said the Albanian ; and he saluted and 
 retired. 
 
 Thrasyboulos soon arrived, attended by Carl. 
 
 "Kyrios Barthakas," he said as soon as he sat down, 
 "the more I think of what you told me, the more unable 
 or rather the more unwilling I grow to believe it. My 
 Andronike ! " 
 
 " My dear Thrasyboulos, Andronike is a woman, and a 
 woman, my friend, can be always compared to a mirror. 
 The more beautiful a woman is, so much more polished 
 the glass. If nobody approaches the glass, it remains 
 uncracked but is affected by time ; it grows dark and dingy 
 with dust, or in other words grows old. If a man throws 
 pebbles at it, one, two, three, four, five, it may stand it, 
 but sometime, say at the sixth pebble, it will crack, no 
 matter how thick. That is the way with a woman. If she 
 be unprotected, perhaps the first, second, third, fourth, fifth 
 man will accomplish nothing, but the sixth ! She will be 
 out of her head for him." 
 
 "That is enough! That is enough, Kyrios Barthakas. 
 This conversation is so painful that I do not wish to pursue 
 it. Only one question more. You told me that a certain 
 lady who saw Andronike before the battle of Gravias was 
 shocked at her thick paint. Can I know the name of this 
 lady?" 
 
 "It is Kyra R , the kinswoman of Odysseus," said 
 
 Barthakas, without the slightest hesitation. 
 
 " Kyra R . I do not know her. Is she at Yanina ? " 
 
 "No. Three days ago she left the city. She was a 
 
A New Home • 169 
 
 prisoner, but was exchanged for the harem of Chourshid in 
 Tripolitsa. But let us quit this painful conversation. 
 How does our insurrection seem to you ? Our Greeks up 
 to the present have done wonders." 
 
 The guest looked Barthakas directly in the face with 
 astonishment. 
 
 " Why do you look at me like that, Thrasyboulos ? " 
 cried the caftanji, laughing. "Do you think, because I 
 wear the long Turkish cloak, I am a Turk ? That is why 
 you are afraid of talking. My friend, I am Greek at 
 heart. I have remained in the Turkish service expressly 
 and only to be useful to the Greeks. The Greek to-day is 
 incapable on account of his slavery ; therefore he must 
 endeavor to overthrow his tyrant by stratagem, since he 
 cannot with his sword." 
 
 The eyes of Thrasyboulos flashed fire. "You are a 
 terrible man," he murmured sadly. 
 
 " Thrasyboulos, you said you were at the battle of Dragat- 
 zana. My groom was one of the Turks who massacred 
 the Sacred Legion, and this old soldier says that he never 
 saw finer soldiers than those boys. Tell me how did you 
 yourself get off so cheap, though you are nephew of the 
 patriarch. You sly fellow ! " he added rudely. 
 
 At that moment dinner was announced. 
 
 Under guise of hospitality, the caftanji of the vizir dis- 
 played all possible magnificence and amazed the Greek. 
 
 Their conversation continued till midnight, and turned 
 mainly on Andronike and the revolution. 
 
 Immediately on the young man's departure, he and Carl 
 were suddenly attacked by Kara Seid Ali and three con- 
 federates, their hands were bound, their eyes blindfolded, 
 and they were carried to the banks of the lake. 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 A NEW HOME 
 
 On account of the calm which prevailed during those 
 days on the iEgean, Andronike and Diamanto were a fort- 
 night at sea. Not till the twenty-seventh of May, 1821, 
 did they reach Scio, a peaceful island, then outside the 
 disorders of the insurrection. 
 
170 Andronike 
 
 Hotels in the European sense there were none. The 
 prevalent hospitality supplied the lack, and every traveller 
 or stranger was commonly provided with letters of intro- 
 duction to some inhabitant. 
 
 When they disembarked and came on shore, it was about 
 four o'clock in the afternoon, — an hour when the inhabi- 
 tants sat at their front doors in festive costume. Then the 
 women would chew mastica and weave neckerchiefs, or 
 joke each other as they stripped the peel from the fruit 
 and made those sweets so famous in the East. The young 
 men, their day's work done, would go from door to door, 
 stopping to chat wherever the heart of each was drawn. 
 
 The reader may imagine the excitement and surprise at 
 the appearance of the two young women wearing the Pelo- 
 ponnesian dress. The news of the Greek revolution came 
 to those gentle people as an echo from a thousand leagues 
 away. It was merely a faint reminder that their Christian 
 brethren were fighting to make a Christian nation and gov- 
 ernment. But as they themselves paid almost no taxes 
 and were only slightly oppressed, it did not excite them to 
 take up arms. 
 
 " See there ! How beautiful they are ! " one called from 
 his doorstep in the peculiar dialect of the island. 
 
 "They are violets from the Morea, my Panaghia," 
 exclaimed a second. 
 
 " Welcome to our village, Peloponnesian ladies, welcome ! " 
 cried a third. 
 
 Andronike was perplexed. She traversed the city square, 
 gracefully saluting the hospitable crowd, not knowing whose 
 kindness to accept and whose to refuse. 
 
 At last they stopped before the door of a large mansion, 
 to the master of which, Kyrios Phrancoulis, they had letters 
 of introduction from the town of Galixidi. 
 
 He was a demogeront of the city, and one of the richest 
 proprietors and merchants in the island. 
 
 His house was spacious, and furnished with Eastern luxury 
 and comfort. It consisted of two floors, with a court and 
 tiny garden. 
 
 The wife of the owner, his brother Paraskevas, three 
 daughters, and two sons made up the family. Their faces 
 were noble and handsome. 
 
 "We come from the Peloponnesus," said Andronike, 
 "and are orphans. The Turks killed our father and 
 
A New Home 171 
 
 brothers, and we escaped to your island with difficulty. 
 How happy you are here, for you know nothing of the 
 misfortunes which your brethren are undergoing." 
 
 " We have heard all about it," said the mistress of the 
 house. " Since Tombasis came last April and fired at the 
 citadel, the mouteselim has held our bishop Plato, his 
 deacon, and forty notables there as hostages." 
 
 Andronike then told whose daughter she was, and de- 
 scribed the cruel death of her father. She said nothing 
 about Barthakas and her exploits at Thermopylae and 
 Gravias, and referred to Diamanto as her sister. 
 
 The amazement of Diamanto was exhaustless. After the 
 harem of Chai'nitja and the gloomy cave of Parnassus with 
 its half -savage inmates, after her long sojourn in the midst 
 of pistols and swords, now at finding herself within the 
 animate and delightful horizon of Scio, surrounded by 
 smiling faces, her happiness overflowed. In this world 
 there seemed nothing more for her to wish. 
 
 On entering the chamber assigned them, she embraced 
 Andronike with swimming eyes. 
 
 " What is it, Diamanto ? " she asked. 
 
 The poor girl could not speak. She was unable to ex- 
 press her gratitude to the deliverer who had rescued her 
 from danger. The Arcadian understood, pressed her in 
 her arms, and dried her eyes. 
 
 "Another life is before us now, Diamanto. In a few 
 days our past suffering will appear as a dream. That is 
 the way of the world." 
 
 They slept a peaceful and unbroken sleep until morning. 
 It was already day when they opened their chamber 
 window. 
 
 " Oh, how fragrant ! " said Diamanto, as the perfume stole 
 in. "I think they are stripping roses for preserves." 
 
 Shortly there was a knock at the door. One of the 
 daughters of Kyrios Phrancoulis brought in a tray with 
 two glasses of cold water and a jar of sweet. 
 
 " Where does the fragrance come from ? " asked Andro- 
 nike, after the usual morning greeting. 
 
 " From our orange and lemon trees. You cannot fancy 
 how far the fragrance goes. We have large houses and 
 gardens full of oranges, lemons, jasmines, jonquils, every 
 kind of fruit and flower ; and when the wind is right, the 
 perfume reaches the mainland opposite." 
 
172 Andronike 
 
 It seemed incredible to the strangers that there was any- 
 where such a perfumed atmosphere. The Arcadian girl 
 knew that Scio was called The Garden of the Icarian Sea, 
 but she supposed that this was only a poetical epithet. 
 
 " You can go if you like, my lambs, to other places in 
 Scio, beyond the mastica villages, where the pines and the 
 mastica trees grow." 
 
 " You live in a real paradise," said Andronike. "We 
 were fortunate in coming to stop with you ; only you must 
 not let us trouble you." 
 
 " Trouble us ! From the joy of having this visit we did 
 not sleep all night. When you know us, you will see that 
 we talk with our hearts and not with our lips. After you 
 are dressed and have tasted the sweet, please come down 
 where we are waiting for you for breakfast." 
 
 " What angelic souls ! " said Diamanto. " Not like those 
 people in the cave. Wherever I turned, I met a pair of 
 shining fierce eyes in the darkness. All wanted to eat me, 
 and especially Kyra B, ." 
 
 " Diamanto, can you easily understand their dialect ? " 
 asked Andronike, with a grave smile as if lost in her 
 ideas. 
 
 " Not very well. Why do you laugh ? " 
 
 " Never mind. I am thinking of Kyra R when she 
 
 returned from Gravias and did not find us." 
 
 " She must have burst with anger. She is such a passion- 
 ate woman that she is capable of searching after us through 
 all Greece." 
 
 "Perhaps to-day I shall learn something about my 
 Thrasyboulos," Andronike soon remarked, falling back 
 into her usual sober mood. 
 
 The breakfast-room was on the first floor. In the win- 
 dows, on account of the burning heat of May, stood open 
 earthen vessels full of cold water. They looked out upon 
 the little house garden which was crowded with the fragrant 
 flowers of the season. 
 
 In the middle was a table with fruit, milk, coffee, and the 
 delicious island cheese. Kyrios Phrancoulis, wearing a 
 light pointed cap and the long flowing robe of the period, 
 rose to receive them. 
 
 While Andronike was breakfasting, she began to praise 
 the natural and artificial beauties of the island, about which 
 she had heard and read so much. Then she approached the 
 
A New Home 173 
 
 subject of the Greek insurrection and the frightful scenes 
 at Constantinople. 
 
 " Here we have, niy daughter, the largest public school, 
 not only of our Scio, but I believe in the Levant," said 
 Phrancoulis. " In this school the deceased Dorotheos, 
 afterwards Bishop of Adrianople, whom the Turks hanged 
 with the patriarch at Constantinople, taught for many years 
 and sent out many scholars. Here on this divan he often 
 sat and smoked his tchibouk with me. His nephew was 
 protosyngelos, but by a hair escaped the massacre and is 
 now in Scio. From his own mouth, lady, you can hear 
 what wicked things the Turks have done." 
 
 " And is he here ? " asked Andronike, with a start. " He 
 must know everybody in the patriarchate." 
 
 " Even the stones there he knows," said Kyrios Phran- 
 coulis. 
 
 u How much I would like to see him and ask the details 
 of those events ! " 
 
 " Despoinouca, send word to Polycarp to come and dine 
 with us to-day. Or perhaps it would be better for us to 
 invite him ourselves and also at the same time visit the 
 great school." 
 
 "Yes, yes," said Andronike, rising eagerly, "I have a 
 very strong desire to see the famous school of Scio, where 
 so many illustrious men have taught. Don't let my impa- 
 tience surprise you. I come from Demetzana, the centre 
 of Greek education in the Peloponnesus. That school I 
 know. I desire therefore to see this one, which is said to 
 be far superior." 
 
 Kyrios Phrancoulis then lighted his long tchibouk. 
 Holding it in his right hand and toying with his beads 
 in his left, he headed the little procession, consisting of 
 the two strangers and of his three daughters. Walking 
 complacently with his charges, he saluted the passers-by 
 with a smile, and to each directed one of those harmless, 
 laconic jokes so characteristic of the Sciots that foreigners 
 sometimes call them the Gascons of the East. 
 
 " How many pupils has the school ? " asked Andronike, 
 as they drew near it. 
 
 " Seven hundred, if you please." 
 
 " So many ! What does each pay ? " 
 
 " Nobody pays anything, lady. All the expenses, fifty 
 thousand piastres a year, are defrayed by the community. 
 
174 Andronike 
 
 The community spent one hundred thousand piastres for 
 the library, which has twelve thousand volumes. The 
 community has also expended money for the chemical and 
 physical laboratories." 
 
 " Is it possible ! Bravo ! This confers immortal glory 
 upon your country, Kyrios Phrancoulis." 
 
 The gentleman was delighted, and, observing Andronike 
 carefully, recognized in her a woman not fitted simply for 
 domestic duties but possessing capacity and high ambition. 
 He grew enthusiastic, and, emitting the last whiff from his 
 pipe, resumed, " Everything that you will see in the school, 
 Andronike, comes from the bequests of the Sciots." 
 
 " Not to flatter you, but to state the simple truth, I say that 
 your island is unique, Kyrios Phrancoulis. Your city is the 
 Paris of the iEgean," said Andronike, resuming her walk. 
 
 "If you should stay a little while in Scio and see our 
 other establishments, which at Constantinople itself they 
 have n't got, what would you say ? Stop a moment for me 
 to tell you, Kyria 1 Andronike," said the gentleman, swelling 
 with pride. " In addition to the school and the library, we 
 have a hospital, an old people's home, a lazaretto, and a 
 leper asylum. We have sixty churches in the sixty-six 
 villages of our island. We have our board of trade, our 
 maritime board, our notaries distinct from the Turks, and 
 we have our own laws. All these expenses come out of our 
 own pocket. There are one hundred and twenty thousand 
 souls in our island." 
 
 Kyrios Phrancoulis spoke the truth, although with insular 
 egotism. Andronike listened with admiration but with 
 impatience, for she felt herself not far from the man who 
 was about to give her information of the life or death of 
 the last being left her in the world. 
 
 At length they reached the door of an imposing structure. 
 Before entering, Kyrios Phrancoulis asked for the proto- 
 syngelos Poly carp. The latter was a man of about thirty, 
 tall, robust, with red cheeks and a becoming black beard. 
 
 "Come and take a bit of soup with us to-day at noon, 
 Kyrios Professor and Protosyngelos. The lady here is 
 from the country of our late patriarch, and has a strong 
 desire to hear from your learned mouth about affairs at 
 Constantinople. " 
 
 " I will come very gladly, Kyrios Phrancoulis. Are you 
 
 1 Miss or Mrs. 
 
Scio 175 
 
 from Demetzana ? " the protosyngelos asked as he turned 
 to Andronike. 
 
 " Yes, venerable father," she answered, leaning on the arm 
 of Diamanto, while her heart beat violently. " Did you know 
 the patriarch Gregory ? Did you know Thrasyboulos ? " 
 
 " Did I know them ! I lived with them. I lived in the 
 same patriarchate." 
 
 " And the Turks killed Thrasyboulos immediately after 
 his uncle ? Is it not so ? " Andronike became so faint while 
 uttering these last words that she could hardly stand. 
 
 " Thrasyboulos ! No ! Who said so ? He escaped and 
 fled to Odessa with the remains of the patriarch." 
 
 " He escaped ! " 
 
 She had not strength for another word. She fell into the 
 arms of Diamanto unconscious. 
 
 " A little vinegar ! Get Dr Decozis, quick ! " cried Kyrios 
 Phrancoulis. " Who is this Thrasyboulos ? " 
 
 " Her betrothed," said Diamanto. 
 
 "Is Andronike the daughter of the demogeront of De- 
 metzana? How Thrasyboulos used to heap praises upon 
 her ! " cried the protosyngelos. "Verily she is the Artemis 
 of Arcadia." 
 
 The situation of Andronike was completely changed by 
 this information. She blessed divine Providence which had 
 prolonged her own days and those of her lover. She wrote 
 immediately to Bucharest, where the protosyngelos said he 
 was to pass ; but in the universal disorder none of her letters 
 ever reached her lover's hand. 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 scio 
 
 The island of Scio, or Chios, in ancient times renowned 
 for its artists, poets, and philosophers, contained, at the be- 
 ginning of the present century, only a mild and un warlike 
 people devoted to commerce and agriculture. 
 
 The islands of the archipelago enjoyed certain privileges 
 and some degree of independence. Isolated and at the im- 
 mediate mercy of the Turkish fleet, they were of necessity 
 peacefully inclined and opposed to disturbances. Scio, 
 
176 Andronike 
 
 more than any other, profited by this dependence. The 
 commercial instincts of its inhabitants induced many to 
 emigrate to Marseilles, Leghorn, Amsterdam, Trieste, 
 Malta, Alexandria, Constantinople, Odessa, and other cen- 
 tres of trade where in a few years they acquired colossal 
 fortunes. Possessing wealth and always tranquil, the Sciots 
 so gained the confidence of the Ottoman government that it 
 left the administration of the entire island in their hands. 
 Only in the half-ruined citadel were maintained a few 
 soldiers as a garrison, and as a nominal show of Ottoman 
 authority. 
 
 The journeys of the Sciots had a refining influence on the 
 people, and counteracted some of the evil consequences of 
 their subjection. Generous and public-spirited, in a few 
 years they erected the establishments which Kyrios Phran- 
 coulis enumerated to Andronike, and also adorned their 
 city with magnificent houses, marble churches, and splen- 
 did gardens. 
 
 Scio also improved its political life. It resembled the 
 republic of San Marino or the free city of Frankfort in the 
 midst of vastly superior political powers. It was a civilized 
 city, and hence a ready prey for the plunderer. When the 
 revolution began, the Sciots were indeed somewhat excited, 
 but had neither inclination nor cause for seizing arms. 
 Some external influence was necessary to excite or rather 
 to impel them by specious promises and a more brilliant 
 future to empty their well-filled purses into its lap. With- 
 out some such impulse they would not quit the yardstick 
 and spade to take up the heavy and unwieldy gun, foreign 
 to their ears and terrible to their eyes. 
 
 The Turks were not suspicious of the island until April, 
 1821. When the Hydriot fleet, commanded by Tombazis 
 and consisting of twenty-five ships, approached to rouse the 
 inhabitants, the trembling Sciots begged the Greek admiral 
 to sail away, asserting that they were not equal to such 
 an undertaking. Tombazis, realizing the impossibility of 
 success, bombarded the citadel, and then departed. 
 
 The mouteselim and cadi invited Bishop Plato, the 
 demogeronts and principal persons, forty-six individuals 
 altogether, to meet them for a conference, and then held 
 them as guarantees of the submission and good conduct of 
 the rest. As the garrison was small, they wrote to Con- 
 stantinople requesting reinforcements. In addition they 
 
Scio 177 
 
 deprived the inhabitants of all weapons and firearms. Thus 
 the tranquillity, which had been somewhat disturbed, ap- 
 peared completely restored. 
 
 Kyria Despoinouca Phrancoulis still retained much of 
 her former beauty. She had a kindly and sincere disposi- 
 tion, but was somewhat inclined to meddle. 
 
 Her husband, now in the fifty-second year of his age, 
 was likewise a kindly man but quick-tempered. He praised 
 extravagantly whatever belonged to him, could not brook 
 opposition, but was very witty when in good humor. He 
 had little education, yet knew by heart many proverbs and 
 fables. It was his ambition to give his children a fine edu- 
 cation. Therefore he expended liberally, and contributed 
 to every public and beneficent institution. 
 
 Their oldest daughter, Angerouca, a young woman of 
 twenty-two, the copy of her mother in appearance and dis- 
 position, found greater pleasure in singing and dressing 
 than in study and housework. 
 
 Loula, the second daughter, seventeen years old, sober, 
 reticent, and thoughtful, enjoying her lessons and animated 
 by high ideas, was a complete contrast to the rest of the 
 family. The Creator seemed to have fashioned her in the 
 same mould as Andronike. She was a brunette, with a 
 sweet voice, dark, beautiful eyes, a tall and imposing figure, 
 and a slow and dignified step. 
 
 The third daughter, Irene, an unusually beautiful girl of 
 twelve, with silky golden hair which fell in ringlets on her 
 shoulders, was the acknowledged pet of her father. 
 
 The older son, Pantelis, was a young man of twenty-one, 
 devoted to business though fond of pleasure. He was 
 strangely timid in society, blushing to the ears and stam- 
 mering whenever he spoke for the first time to a girl. Of 
 medium height, well formed, and with a pleasing expres- 
 sion, he greatly resembled his father. 
 
 Lorentzis, the second son, was a sunburned, undisciplined, 
 and headstrong boy of fifteen. Passionately fond of books 
 and possessing much natural intelligence, he was the pride 
 of the family. 
 
 Dr Paraskevas, the brother of Kyrios Phrancoulis, was 
 an unmarried man of sixty. He had studied medicine in 
 Europe, and had acquired considerable scientific knowledge. 
 He was very devoted to the entire family, but spent almost 
 all his time with his books. 
 
 12 
 
178 Andronike 
 
 Andronike and Diamanto greatly enjoyed the first days 
 after their arrival in this beautiful pearl of Ionia. They 
 visited the public establishments as well as the various 
 private manufactories where Sciot goods were made, famous 
 throughout Greece. Sometimes they roamed over the 
 villages, through the gardens and among the lemon and 
 orange groves, and wondered at the thousand water-wheels 
 which like crickets filled the air with their rasping music. 
 
 Both women had been reared in the heart of the Turkish 
 Empire, where their sex is shut behind the lattice of the 
 harem ; so for a long time they could not become accustomed 
 to the bold, free speech of the women around them, who 
 from sunrise to sunset in front of their doors in loud and 
 jovial tones jested with the passers-by. 
 
 Diamanto with less difficulty adopted the expressions and 
 the pronunciation of the island, and conformed to this sort 
 of life. Since Andronike could not change, but remained 
 always sedate and melancholy, never going down to sit in 
 front of the door, gradually Diamanto was weaned from her 
 and contracted a most intimate friendship with Angerouca, 
 whom she greatly resembled. 
 
 Loula now became the companion of the Arcadian, for 
 they were much alike. 
 
 Soon the house became the salon of the island. Teachers 
 and pupils of the public schools came there every night, 
 bringing news of the insurrection and wishing to talk with 
 Loula and Andronike, the Aspasias of the day. 
 
 Another individual who will play an important part in 
 this story is Signor Luigi Casteli, a young man of about 
 twenty-five, Catholic in religion, descended from a good 
 but reduced family. For a long time he had been in love 
 with Angerouca; but, although she fully returned his affec- 
 tion, the gulf between their religions was always an obstacle 
 to their marriage. He was well built, handsome, and in- 
 telligent, but loquacious, egotistic, and of doubtful character. 
 
 The population of the city was nearly thirty thousand, 
 comprising about two thousand Turks, two thousand Catho- 
 lics, and the rest Orthodox Greek Christians. There were 
 also sixty or seventy Jews. The Turks almost without ex- 
 ception spoke Greek ; the Catholics did the same, but mixed 
 with it many French, Italian, and Turkish words. 
 
 The mutual aversion of the Catholics and Orthodox was 
 very great. Coveting the wealth and power they formerly 
 
Loula and Andronike 179 
 
 possessed, the former were on the constant watch for an op- 
 portunity when by some service of any kind to the Turks 
 they might regain the first place. 
 
 The amphitheatrical form of the city reminded one of 
 mediseval Genoa. The prevailing color of its houses was 
 reddish black, because built of a dark stone, quarried from 
 the ruins of the ancient Lydian Erythrse, on the mainland, 
 and of a red earth peculiar to the island. 
 
 The town was divided into three distinct quarters : Aplo- 
 taria, the residence of the richer classes, on the left of the 
 harbor as one entered ; Encremos, to the right above Aplo- 
 taria ; and Franco-Mahallah, or Frank Village, to the north 
 and right of the citadel and the harbor. This amphitheatre 
 of dwellings descended to the harbor, where there was a 
 little square called Vounaki. Windmills lined the shore far 
 to right and left, and added much to its picturesque beauty. 
 The traveller Tournefort, comparing Scio with the other 
 cities of Turkey, well named it the " Diamond of the East." 
 
 To-day the harbor barely accommodates one hundred small 
 craft. At that period, with its artificial moles on the right 
 and left, breaking the force of the current and preventing 
 the accumulation of sand, it afforded ample room to three 
 hundred and fifty large ships. It was, however, exposed to 
 the north and south winds. The ruins of these moles, 
 above the surface of the sea, now afford places for fishermen 
 to spread their nets. 
 
 On one side of the entrance, upon a cliff, was the lighthouse 
 of Saint Nicolas, and on the other side a guardhouse. 
 
 Farther to the right rose the fortress, first erected by the 
 Genoese, but rebuilt and enlarged by the Venetians. On its 
 walls were seen the escutcheons of both cities, and over one 
 of its principal gates was the lion of Saint Mark in bas relief. 
 The governor of the island and the garrison occupied the 
 fortress. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 LOULA AND ANDRONIKE 
 
 One day, some months after the arrival of the two young 
 women in the island, the following conversation took place 
 between Andronike and Loula while the rest of the family 
 were sitting in front of the house. 
 
180 Andronike 
 
 " My soul, Andronike, you must advise Diamanto to stop 
 her flirtation with Casteli, or something disagreeable will 
 happen." 
 
 " I have already given her that advice. She is now as 
 forward and bold as she was bashful and timid when she 
 came to your island. Still, she always says that Casteli does 
 not come to see her, but Angerouca, with whom he has been 
 in love for three years. Angerouca herself told her so." 
 
 " Angerouca ! Her love affair is an unhappy business. 
 She made a great mistake in loving a man whom neither our 
 church nor my father would ever allow her to marry. All 
 of us warned her, but she paid no attention. If he were 
 only a man of character ! " 
 
 " Your aversion to the Catholics seems to me strange. In 
 the Peloponnesus we hate the Turks, but Christian looks 
 on Christian as a brother. Here you inhabit distinct 
 quarters, and treat each other like cats and dogs." 
 
 " You are right. I began this conversation to save Dia- 
 manto from what Angerouca has suffered. My father drove 
 the miserable fellow from our house, and for three or four 
 months we did not know whether he was still on the island. 
 On learning of your arrival he began to frequent our neigh- 
 borhood again and to say sweet things to Angerouca, and 
 yet his object is plainly Diamanto. My brother Pantelis is 
 in love with her too, but he is timid and dares not tell her. 
 Casteli is crafty, daring, and plausible, and will win the heart 
 of Diamanto if he can. Then not only shall we have 
 quarrels between Pantelis and Casteli, but I am afraid 
 Angerouca herself will suffer." 
 
 " I thank you for talking to me like a sister. How can 
 we prevent Casteli coming here any more ? Shall we ask 
 your father to send him off at once ? " 
 
 " He has sent him off three times, but Casteli is one of 
 those people who do not know what shame is. After three 
 days he comes back as sweetly as if he were our best friend. 
 My father has got tired of it and does nothing now, when- 
 ever he sees him coming, but send Angerouca inside. 
 However, Casteli likes that, for it gives him a better chance 
 to talk with Diamanto." 
 
 " What can we do, then ? " 
 
 " I do not know. I am racking my brains to find out." 
 
 *f Will you do me a favor, Loula ? " 
 
 " Certainly. What is it ? " 
 
Lou la and Andronike 181 
 
 " Let us go down to the door. It will be the first time 
 since I came to Scio that I have been down. I want, how- 
 ever, to meet him face to face." 
 
 " Wait till I see if he has come." 
 
 Loula put her head out from the window and looked. 
 
 u He has not come. So much the better. If we go down 
 when he is there, it would be just like him to say we did it 
 for him." 
 
 As the two friends descended, they attracted the curiosity 
 of every member of the house. It was indeed the first time 
 that the two had honored the front of the door with their 
 presence. 
 
 The contentment of the father and mother increased. 
 All the group seemed very happy, except Pantelis, who sat 
 near Diamanto with a scowling face, on a chair moodily 
 turned toward the wall. 
 
 Kyrios Phrancoulis was smoking his long tchibouk, and 
 at intervals accosting some passer-by with a proverb or an 
 anecdote which excited the laughter of his household. 
 
 His wife gently reproved him, so that he should not talk 
 so loud and that the neighbors might not hear. 
 
 " I don't care a fig. When I see crooked I talk crooked, 
 and when I see straight I talk straight. If Signor Casteli 
 comes hanging round our doorstep to-night, I will let him 
 have two or three in the back." 
 
 " Don't say such things, Kyrios Phrancoulis. They 
 don't suit you. The best way is to be dignified and impos- 
 ing. Then the young man, despite the coldness you show 
 him, will not open his mouth to say bad things about 
 you." 
 
 "There he is, father," said the taciturn Pantelis. "He 
 is all dressed up in a white hat, white pantaloons, and white 
 stockings." Then, casting a jealous look at Diamanto with 
 a sort of sigh, he turned his chair back again toward the 
 wall and played in an absent-minded way with his two 
 spaniels. 
 
 At the appearance of the Catholic, Diamanto and 
 Angerouca changed color and did not seem to know 
 what to do. 
 
 " Have you heard the news ? Have you heard the news, 
 Kyrios Phrancoulis ? " 
 
 While speaking, Casteli approached in his usual pre- 
 sumptuous manner. Seeing, however, Loula and Andronike 
 
182 Andronike 
 
 for the first time at the door, he took off his hat and made 
 them a profound bow. 
 
 Kyrios Phrancoulis smoked on soberly, and did not turn 
 his head to look at Casteli. 
 
 " The mouteselim appears to have become frightened, and 
 a little while ago he asked for reinforcements from the 
 government. The government has sent a thousand Zeibecks, 
 and they have disembarked at the fortress and the New 
 Fountain. They are going to station patrols." 
 
 " Is this true or are you talking nonsense, Signor 
 Casteli?" asked the perplexed gentleman, at once rising 
 from his seat. 
 
 "Nonsense ! Why nonsense ? All Scio is running to the 
 harbor to see them." 
 
 " Irene, my hat, quick ! Lorentzis, run for my stick ! 
 I will give a glance myself at the New Fountain." 
 
 "No, my father, you shall not leave us. Do not get 
 yourself into danger in the powder and weapons," said 
 Angerouca, rising. 
 
 " Why are you afraid ? They don't kill people that way. 
 The Turks know me." 
 
 Kyria Phrancoulis seized the arm of her intrepid spouse. 
 
 " Are they armed, Signor Casteli ? Did you see them ? " 
 he asked, beginning to hesitate. 
 
 "Pretty well, Kyrios Phrancoulis. Per Bacco, I will 
 not exaggerate, but every one had six pistols and two 
 yataghans." 
 
 Kyrios Phrancoulis bit his lips nervously, and reflected 
 for a few seconds. Then, turning to Pantelis, who was still 
 playing with the spaniels, he said, " Here, Pantelis, come, 
 let us go down together." 
 
 " No, father, no, I am not coming. If you want my 
 advice, you will get your property together and open up 
 business somewhere in England." 
 
 "For your family's sake do not go, Kyrios Phrancoulis. 
 Wait till the people come from the harbor; then you will 
 learn the facts from them." 
 
 "A thousand Zeibecks in Scio! Our demogeronts and 
 bishop in the fortress as hostages! These are frightful 
 times, children. Did you see them with your own eyes, 
 Signor Casteli ? " Kyrios Phrancoulis asked, as if delirious. 
 
 " Did I not see them ! Black as ... " 
 
 " Sit down, Signor Casteli. Irene, why are you standing 
 
Loula and Andronike 183 
 
 still? A chair for Signor Casteli. They were black 
 as . . . ?" 
 
 "As all out-doors," said Casteli, for the first time in a 
 long while being allowed a seat in front of this door. 
 
 " Frightful times these are for Scio. Do you hear the 
 Zeibecks down there ? Fleas are crawling over my arm, 
 Despoinouca," said Kyrios Fhrancoulis, springing up as if 
 shot. 
 
 " And how does our island of Scio appear to you, Signorina 
 Andronike ? " asked Casteli, mechanically patting Lorentzis. 
 
 "Very well; very beautiful," answered Andronike, smil- 
 ing a little. 
 
 " You are laughing, Signora, at my Greek. It is not of 
 the first quality, I am well aware, but one can make out 
 what I mean." 
 
 " What is your own language, Signor Casteli ? " asked 
 Andronike. 
 
 "Italian, Signora." 
 
 u Were you born in Italy ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Was your father, then, an Italian ? " 
 
 "No," he murmured, coloring slightly. 
 
 " But your grandfather or your great-grandfather must 
 have been ? " 
 
 " No," he muttered, still more confused. 
 
 " I understand. You are descended from the Venetians 
 or Florentines who at various times controlled the island." 
 
 "Yes, Signora," said Casteli, breathing more freely. 
 
 " Are you Genoese, Venetian, or Florentine ? Which of 
 the three?" 
 
 " Truly I do not know. I think I am a Venetian." 
 
 " Why don't you tell the truth, Signor Casteli ? " shouted 
 Kyrios Phrancoulis, recovering from the fear into which 
 the thousand Zeibecks had plunged him. " Is it a shame 
 to be a Greek ? Were you not born at Sclavia of Scio ? 
 Your father and your grandfather and all your family for 
 seven hundred years were from here, and, when the first 
 Genoese came into the island, were you not Sciots ? And 
 the first words which your nurse taught you, were they not 
 Greek ? Tell me how* you became a Frank." 
 
 " It would give me great pleasure if I could talk Greek 
 well," said the Catholic in his cynical way, not paying the 
 least attention to the rasping reproof of Kyrios Phrancoulis. 
 
184 Andronike 
 
 Then, turning to Andronike and assuming an affable and 
 pathetic tone, he added, " If Signora Diamanto would give 
 me a few lessons, I am sure I should get on very fast." 
 
 "In our country we have another system for those who 
 begin a language," Andronike replied dryly. 
 
 "If Kyria Diamanto gives you lessons, she will earn 
 thirty round crowns a month, Signor Casteli," said the 
 jealous Pantelis, breaking his long silence. 
 
 "Here comes the protosyngelos Polycarp. Now we 
 shall learn how many Turks have come to Scio," said Kyria 
 Phrancoulis. 
 
 " Good evening," said the priest gravely, at the same time 
 looking sternly at the Catholic. 
 
 "What is it I hear, teacher? Is it true that a thou- 
 sand Zeibecks have come to Scio ? " 
 
 " Most unfortunately it is true. They are from the oppo- 
 site promontory of Asia Minor. A thousand other Turks 
 were coming under the command of Ilezoglou, a good and 
 kindly man, but they were ordered to Samos." 
 
 " Have you learned why they came ? " 
 
 " Yes. Some of our Catholic benefactors frightened the 
 mouteselim with the idea that the islanders are planning 
 to rebel, and they urged him to obtain assistance from 
 Constantinople . " 
 
 The eyes of all the family turned to Casteli. 
 
 " What pasha is their commander, reverend Polycarp ? " 
 asked Kyrios Phrancoulis. 
 
 " The worst of it is they have no commander. Each 
 one is a nut by himself. There are two hundred Cretans, 
 six hundred Yourouks, and two hundred Zeibecks. They all 
 came on one frigate." 
 
 "Panaghia! What will become of us? Why should 
 this evil fall upon us ? " 
 
 The entire household rose up, all in a tremble. 
 
 "Do not be afraici, ladies," said Andronike. "As yet 
 you do not definitely know the purpose of these thousand 
 Turks. Surely they have come to maintain good order in 
 the city. That ought to please you." 
 
 "I want two words with you in private, Kyrios Phran- 
 coulis," said the protosyngelos. " Will you come inside 
 the house ? " 
 
 " I am at your command, teacher. What can you have 
 to say to me? Is it good or bad ? I do not know what is 
 
Loula and Andronike 185 
 
 the matter with me, Despoinouka, but I am not at all well 
 today. I am suffering from chills." 
 
 " Signora Andronike, do not be displeased when I tell 
 you that you are as courageous as the Hippolyte of Mar- 
 montel. By San Gerolomeo, I never saw a woman so brave 
 as yourself," said Casteli. 
 
 " I am a woman, sir, just like all the rest. If I was 
 not frightened when I heard of a thousand Turks, it was 
 because I did not see the danger." Turning to Loula, she 
 added : " Everybody is getting up and going into the 
 house. Let us go in too. Good night, Signor Casteli." 
 
 " Buona notte, buona notte, Signora Andronike," said 
 Casteli, rising, taking off his hat and bowing to the 
 ground. 
 
 The rest of the family also rose. 
 
 " And are you also going ? " said the Catholic, approach- 
 ing Diamanto and Angerouca. " It has given me great 
 pleasure to meet your sister. Next to you, she is the most 
 lovely girl I ever saw in my life." 
 
 "Is that true?" asked Diamanto with delight, leaning 
 upon the arm of Angerouca and gazing fixedly at him. 
 " Why, Signor Casteli, do you persecute the Greeks so ? " 
 
 "Don't believe everything, Signora Diamanto, that 
 your priests say. Your priests and ours have made all 
 the trouble. I know that ours are very excitable, but 
 then they have some reason, for they have lost all their 
 authority. Once they had two hundred churches under 
 them, and now they have only four. But I am no bigot, 
 and your church and ours are all one to me. Angerouca 
 knows my heart to the bottom. After the insults which 
 I have received at this door, I ought never to come here 
 again, but I do come to see Angerouca.' 7 
 
 Then turning to his former flame, he added: "I had 
 many important things to say to you and a note to give 
 you, and I came for that purpose, but your family did not 
 offer me to-night even a glass of water." 
 
 " Don't be annoyed, Signor Casteli. You know my 
 heart. Have you the note with you ? " 
 
 " Before I give it, I must talk with you. At twelve 
 o'clock to-night I will wait outside your door. Not to 
 rouse suspicion, let your confidante, Signora Diamanto, 
 come instead, and I will speak to her in your place and give 
 her the note." 
 
186 Andronike 
 
 " Very well, at twelve. Pantelis is coining ! Good night. 
 At twelve." 
 
 Pantelis had followed his father inside to hear the 
 disclosures of the protosyngelos. After the protosyngelos 
 had set forth to his friend the danger the island incurred 
 by the arrival of the thousand Turks, he began to 
 reproach him sternly for allowing a Catholic to sit beside 
 his daughters and converse with them. 
 
 The jealousy of Pantelis then reached its height. Leav- 
 ing his father, he returned to the front door just as 
 Casteli, taking the hands of Angerouca and Diamanto, 
 was saying good night. He saw Diamanto, unbeknown to 
 his sister, give Casteli a note, but the thing was done so 
 quickly as to seem incredible. Almost beside himself, he 
 shouted : " The Turks have come to kill us and you keep 
 the doors open ! Do you hear, Signor Casteli ? Don't try 
 to fasten yourself to us." Jealously he banged together 
 the two halves of the door, and left Casteli in the middle 
 of the street. 
 
 " What a good disposition Signor Casteli seems to have ! " 
 said Diamanto to Angerouca, as they were re-entering the 
 house. 
 
 " He has the best in the town. If he only were not a 
 Catholic ! " 
 
 " What difference does that make ? Is n't he a 
 Christian? If such a handsome, polite young man loved 
 me, do you think his being a Catholic would make any 
 difference ? Not even if he were a Jew or a Turk." 
 
 " How can you stand that rotten Frank ? " said the brother, 
 who on bolting the door turned hastily toward them. 
 " He is a beggar. His pockets are empty. Did you 
 see how he rolled his eyes for something to eat ? " His 
 sister gave an angry retort, and, pulling her companion by 
 the arm, left him to himself. 
 
A Plain Conversation 187 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 A PLAIN CONVERSATION 
 
 Hardly had Diamanto entered the house when Andronike 
 called her into her chamber. 
 
 "Diamanto," she said gravely, "do you still feel the 
 friendship for me which you had when we left the 
 Corycian Cave ?" 
 
 " Not only do I love you, Andronike, but my gratitude to 
 you constantly increases, for I realize more and more the 
 difference between our present life and that in the cave." 
 
 " Then tell me the truth. Are you in love with Casteli ? 
 I remained an hour at the door and I saw through every- 
 thing. You two expressed by your glances what the 
 presence of the rest of us prevented your tongues from 
 confessing." 
 
 Diamanto colored and was confused. 
 
 " Diamanto, we know all of each other's affairs. If now 
 you are beginning to hide your new sentiments from me, 
 it means either that you have changed or that I am no 
 longer worthy of your confidence." 
 
 She threw herself into the arms of Andronike and 
 began to weep bitterly. 
 
 " Speak, dear. We are like sisters. Have you anything 
 to tell me ? " 
 
 "Yes, Andronike, I love him. He is so nice every 
 way." 
 
 "You love him. Have you had any explanation with 
 him ? " 
 
 " I have. First he wrote me a note." 
 
 " Did he write you ? Perhaps he wanted an interview ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Did you grant it ? At what o'clock ? " 
 
 " At eleven at night ; but, because I could not go down 
 to the door that night, I met him another day at the New 
 Fountain." 
 
 " Have you written to him at all ? " 
 
 "Only to-day I gave him a note," she added with a 
 groan. " And I did this to send him off rather than to 
 encourage him." 
 
188 Andronike 
 
 " Do me the favor of showing the note of Casteli." 
 Diamanto then took from her breast a note on paper 
 scented with musk and bordered with flowers and two 
 billing doves. It was written in the mixed language of 
 the Latins as follows : — 
 
 Adorable Signora, — Mars and Apollo in ancient times 
 fell in love with Persephone, so her mother Ceres, in order to get 
 her out of their hands, sent her to the island of Sicily near the 
 volcano of iEtna to pick flowers. Pluto, ugly and deformed, 
 as soon as he saw her stole her from the midst of her nymphs. 
 
 Jupiter forgave him, for in his life he did such things himself. 
 
 So, my adorable Signora Diamanto, you see truly that love 
 is not a forbidden and unusual thing, but that the gods of 
 antiquity felt it and practised it. 
 
 Love encouraged me to take the liberty of sending you this note. 
 
 The words on this paper are insufficient to express all the 
 torture of my soul. I hope that this may not displease you, and 
 that you will take pity on a man who was well and happy until 
 you came to this island, but who is now prostrated with pain. 
 
 Can you not, Signora Diamanto, come down to your door 
 to-night at eleven o'clock? I will explain to you all the 
 circumstances which prevented my marrying the good and 
 beautiful Angerouca. 
 
 Beautiful, most beautiful Diamanto, excuse the miserable 
 
 Luigi Casteli. 
 
 After reading this letter, Andronike, smiling and at the 
 same time feeling the greatest anxiety, remained for a long 
 time thoughtful. She perfectly understood the position of 
 her friend. 
 
 Shut up from childhood in the harem of Chainitja and 
 afterwards in the household of Odysseus, always surrounded 
 by eunuchs or soldiers who looked upon her as their prey, 
 Diamanto was timid, and had no idea what freedom meant. 
 Therefore the moment it was hers, she wished to taste it in 
 every form. 
 
 Pantelis could easily have gained her heart. He would 
 have made her a fit husband, but he was bashful, and never 
 employed the least affectionate expression, although he 
 loved "her tenderly, but constantly talked of business and 
 money. On the other hand, the more daring Casteli had 
 mythology and compliments for the ladies always on his 
 lips, and thus crept into the heart of the young woman. 
 
 Besides, it must be confessed that the confused Franco- 
 Italian dialect of the Catholic was more grateful to her ears 
 
A Plain Conversation 189 
 
 than the mixture of Slavo-Turkish words and Greek which 
 she had heard in the Corycian Cave. She supposed that 
 the former dialect savored of civilization, while the latter 
 reminded her of the Turks. Oppressed by all the restric- 
 tions of her bringing up and then at last emancipated, she 
 accepted whatever belonged to enlightened Europe as most 
 excellent and desirable. 
 
 "Are you aware, Diamanto," Andronike asked, "that 
 Casteli has loved Angerouca for three years and has greatly 
 injured her reputation ? " 
 
 " I am aware of it ; but he told me that three times he 
 asked her in marriage of her parents and three times they 
 refused him as a Catholic. " 
 
 " Does Angerouca love him still ? M 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Does he not pretend to come on her account while his 
 real object is you ? " 
 
 " Yes," she stammered, blushing. 
 
 " Suppose that this becomes known, what is your posi- 
 tion and what is mine ? Will not they who have shown 
 us such hospitality and lavished every kindness upon us, 
 complain of our ingratitude? Moreover, I am informed 
 from Loula that Angerouca madly loves Casteli. Suppose 
 that when your own love is discovered, your friend becomes 
 very sick, that her life is endangered or that she dies ? " 
 
 " Stop, Andronike ! For God's sake ! I deserve severe 
 punishment. I am guilty, but not from wickedness. I have 
 been led on insensibly. Be assured that, much as I love 
 him, I have reflected on these same things and wrote him 
 to-day a discouraging letter." 
 
 " If what I have said is not enough, I must add that he 
 is not only poor, but also deeply in debt, while the son of 
 Kyrios Phrancoulis is rich and virtuous." 
 
 " Then what must I do?" 
 
 " You cannot go to the interview. As with scissors you 
 must cut off every hope of the Catholic, so that he shall not 
 come again near our door." 
 
 "I cannot do any such thing, Andronike." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because I have neither strength nor courage to say any 
 such thing to his face ; I love him so, Andronike." 
 
 " I myself will tell him. At what hour is he coming 
 to-night?" 
 
190 Andronike 
 
 " At twelve. What do you want to do, Andronike ? " 
 
 "Nothing! A duty ! If what I do does not please you, 
 I leave the island to-morrow. I am compelled, however, to 
 tell you that if I depart once for all and you remain here, 
 I shall necessarily state to Loula that I am not your 
 sister." 
 
 Diamanto trembled at the stern and decisive manner of 
 Andronike, but came to herself and on reflection said : 
 " Very well, I shall follow your advice. I shall break off 
 all connection with Casteli. I shall go down to-night and 
 ask him not to come hereafter to our door." 
 
 " No ! You must not go down ! Often an interview at 
 night strengthens a love affair instead of breaking it off. 
 Loula and I will go down." 
 
 " Loula ! Does Loula know about it ? " 
 
 " Except Angerouca, the whole family of Kyrios Phran- 
 coulis knows all about it." 
 
 " Do whatever you think best," said Diamanto, covering 
 her face with both her hands. 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE CAFE OF THE LATINS 
 
 After his unceremonious dismissal by Pantelis, Casteli 
 turned his steps to one of the cafes in Franco-Mahallah 
 where the Latin young men were assembled playing cards. 
 
 "Eh, Signor Casteli, what news from the Peloponne- 
 sians ? Have they answered your love-letters yet ? " one 
 of the card-players asked him, shuffling the cards and hold- 
 ing a half-lighted cigar in his mouth. 
 
 " A pair of turtle-doves they are ! By Santa Philo- 
 mena, I never saw such easy victims as those girls from 
 the mainland," said Casteli. Taking off his hat and wiping 
 his face with a scented handkerchief, his manner showed 
 great self-satisfaction. 
 
 " Well, Signor Casteli, what are you going to tell us of 
 your last successes ? " 
 
 " Nothing," he answered, shrugging his shoulders with a 
 meaning smile; then turning to the keeper of the cafe, 
 ' Batista, a mastica for everybody." 
 
The Cafe of the Latins 191 
 
 "Good!" they all cried. "Bravo! Thanks for your 
 courtesy." 
 
 " Say, Signor Casteli, what you have to say," a middle- 
 aged man cried with some anxiety. "You have broken 
 in on our game and I lose five florins. The ace, Signor 
 Giustiniani ! " 
 
 " That's enough, Signor Flori. Don't be vexed. I want 
 to relate the adventures of Columbus," said Casteli, cock- 
 ing his hat on one side. 
 
 " You want to tell some of your fables three yards long. 
 The ace, Signor Giustiniani ! I am tired of waiting. Two 
 hours I have been hanging over this table." 
 
 " Of the fables three yards long," said Casteli, with some 
 resentment, " here is one." Taking from his pocket the 
 note of Diamanto, he raised his arm and showed it. 
 
 "A note," some cried. "A billet-doux," added Signor 
 Giustiniani. "Is it from the Peloponnesian ? I don't 
 believe it ! Signor Casteli, it is from Angerouca, and you 
 pretend it is from Signora Diamanto." 
 
 "I have not opened it yet. Oh, my sweet letter!" Cas- 
 teli added, and pressed it to his lips. 
 
 " The ace, Signor Giustiniani ! " said Flori ; " will you 
 play or shall I take my hat and go off ? " 
 
 " Wait a minute !' Let him open his letter and give us 
 some idea how the Peloponnesian writes." 
 
 After Casteli had kissed it a second time, he opened it. 
 
 "Very respected Sir, — Your letter gave me great pleasure 
 because of the delicate sentiments you have for me, but remem- 
 ber that my intimate attachment to Angerouca prevents my going 
 farther. 
 
 " If perchance we meet again, with my voice I shall tell you how 
 innocent I am, and how wrongly you have understood me. 
 
 "I wish you good health. 
 
 " Your friend Diamanto." 
 
 The letter was written in quaint, almost archaic Greek, 
 unintelligible to the Sciot Catholics. 
 
 " Boys, I could not get a line of sense out of all this 
 letter," said Casteli. "Per Bacco, she writes like a 
 priest." 
 
 "None of us understood it," said another. 
 
 "Signor Giustiniani, I wish you the pleasure of under- 
 standing the effusion." 
 
192 Andronike 
 
 " I believe I did catch a little of it." 
 
 " Then will you do us the favor to translate it ? " 
 
 Giustiniani coughed several times, took the letter, and in 
 vain did his best to interpret its contents. The innocent 
 girl's note passed from hand to hand, the jest and riddle 
 of the gay youths. 
 
 " She seems to be a rather advanced young woman," ob- 
 served one. 
 
 " She is from Demetzana, where she has considerable 
 property in the Morea, and is niece of the patriarch who 
 was hanged at Phanar," said Casteli, with an air of triumph. 
 
 " When is your rendezvous ? " 
 
 "To-night at twelve." 
 
 " Are you not making game of us, Signor Casteli ? " 
 
 " Why don't you come and see ? " 
 
 " When you came in, you said, ' A pair of turtle-doves.' " 
 
 " I said so because I put the big sister in the company." 
 
 " The Signora Andronike ! I don't believe you." 
 
 " Well, then, don't ; but as the serpent magnetizes the 
 bird and makes it little by little slide off the branch into 
 his mouth, so I can make them come down to the door." 
 
 " Have you spoken with her ? " several cried with curi- 
 osity. 
 
 " I have spoken with her, and I have squeezed her hand, 
 and my eyes have eaten into her eyes . . . and now let her 
 once come to the door, and we take her with a fish-hook." 
 
 " And Angerouca, Signor Casteli ? " 
 
 " Angerouca ! What can I do with her ? " he said, with a 
 significant laugh, thrusting his hands into the pockets of 
 his white breeches and shrugging his shoulders. 
 
 Signor Flori gave him a sharp glance. Then turning 
 angrily, he said, " Well, finish your joke. It is twenty-four 
 hours since I played my ace." 
 
 " Listen, Signor Flori," answered Casteli, laughing heart- 
 ily. " Now that I have three, I will give you Angerouca. 
 She is just right for your age. Allow me to congratulate 
 you." Approaching him from behind, he tried to stroke 
 his face with his two hands. 
 
 " Are we playing with truth or with lies ? The ace, 
 Signor Giustiniani ! We have n't taken lodgings in the 
 cafe ! " 
 
 Kicking over the table and rising, he approached Casteli 
 in a threatening manner, and in a loud voice exclaimed : 
 
The Interview 193 
 
 "You have broken up our game. I don't believe a word 
 you have said. Not one of them cares for you, — not Ange- 
 rouca or Diamanto or Andronike. Like a cat you hang 
 rouud the door, but, if you go a bit nearer, you will feel the 
 sticks 
 
 "Ha! ha! ha !" they all shouted. 
 
 "You are so angry, Signor Mori, that you don't know 
 what you are saying," Casteli replied with a laugh. At 
 once he sobered, as if his self-conceit were piqued. " I speak 
 with proofs," he remarked. "If you do not believe it, 
 come and see me to-night." 
 
 "Let us go, boys, and watch the emotions of Signora 
 Diamanto." 
 
 " Let us go ! " several repeated. " Are you willing, Signor 
 Casteli ? " 
 
 " Verily, I am perfectly willing," he said. In fact, he 
 had come to the cafe for the express purpose of securing 
 witnesses to his triumphant nocturnal interview. 
 
 Then all got up. Railing at Signor Flori, who was angry 
 at losing and who hated Casteli, they called out, "Buona 
 notte," and quitted the cafe. 
 
 Signor Flori was a professional gambler. He sprang up, 
 pale and speechless ; then found his voice and cried to the 
 keeper of the cafe : " Five florins ! Two weeks' family ex- 
 penses ! I lost them by this cursed Casteli, but I will get 
 them again from the pocket of Signor Pantelis." 
 
 So he too left the cafe, and walked toward the house of 
 Kyrios Phrancoulis. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE INTERVIEW 
 
 About nine o'clock that night Signor Flori knocked at 
 the door of Kyrios Phrancoulis. He found here several 
 professors of the public school and some priests, among 
 whom was the protosyngelos Poly carp. The topic of con- 
 versation was the arrival of the thousand Turks in the 
 island. 
 
 After the usual compliments, Kyria Phrancoulis asked 
 for the news of his quarter. 
 
 13 
 
194 Andronike 
 
 "Nothing, except the arrival of those thousand Turks. 
 That has made a great sensation. Surely, you know about 
 it." 
 
 " We know about it, Signor Flori," said the host, standing 
 up, "and we don't like it." 
 
 " You are right, Kyrios Phrancoulis, nor do I like it." 
 
 "Have you learned why they came, or who suggested 
 their coming ? " the protosyngelos asked. 
 
 " No, but in two or three days we shall learn." 
 
 " There is a rumor that some of your people, for the sake 
 of injuring the Greeks, urged the mouteselim to obtain re- 
 inforcements from Constantinople." 
 
 "I believe you, father. Some of our mischief-making 
 young men are the scandal of the island. Their religion 
 goes no farther than wearing pantaloons. But what married 
 Latin or Greek would be crazy enough to do any such 
 thing ? " 
 
 "At first I did not believe it myself, when Signor Casteli 
 told me, for it seemed so improbable," said Kyrios Phran- 
 coulis. 
 
 " And did Signor Casteli come to-night to your door ? " 
 
 " He came, and had I not closed the door in his face, he 
 had no intention of leaving," said Pantelis, gloomily. 
 
 " You did well. It is not becoming for you to have many 
 words with this mischief-maker, Kyrios Phrancoulis." 
 
 "Have you heard anything from his mouth, Signor 
 Flori?" 
 
 " It would be unbecoming to tell you what I have heard, 
 but you will do well to keep him away from your door as 
 long as you have a crowd of girls." 
 
 All the young women looked at each other ; but one of the 
 servants, called Pedis, who according to the etiquette of the 
 time stood upright like a mummy in a corner of the room, 
 said : " Forgive me, master, if I say a word. Signor Flori 
 tells the truth, though you scold me. Last week the Frank 
 walked up and down all night under our windows, and 
 though no one came down to speak to him, he went off to 
 tell lies." 
 
 " There is no occasion for you to talk, Pedis, but to stand 
 there till you see we need something," Kyria Despoinouca 
 interrupted. 
 
 "Let the man say what he saw. Say on, Pedis, what 
 did you see ? " exclaimed Kyrios Phrancoulis. 
 
The Interview 195 
 
 " Nothing, effendi. I did not see anything, effendi," re- 
 plied the servant, biting his lips and casting his eyes down. 
 
 " You always have the bad habit of interrupting a man 
 while he is talking," said Phrancoulis, heatedly, to his wife. 
 Then turning to Signor Flori, he said, " For a long time 
 Casteli has bothered us, but to-night he brought the news 
 of the thousand Zeibecks, and so I gave him a chair and he 
 sat down." 
 
 The conversation again turned to the Greek insurrection. 
 Signor Flori, taking advantage of the dense clouds of smoke, 
 rose and approached Pantelis, who sat gloomily opposite 
 Diamante 
 
 "What will you give me," he said to him in a low 
 tone, " for some news which interests you ? I paid just five 
 florins for it." 
 
 " News which interests me ! What is your news ? " 
 
 " It interests you, for it is about the signora opposite 
 you, and will be of service to her, — the Signora Diamanto, 
 I mean," giving him a light touch on the elbow. 
 
 Pantelis, at the name of Diamanto, raised his sullen 
 head. 
 
 " What shall I give you for the news ? " 
 
 " It cost me five florins to learn it.'' 
 
 " I will give them to you." 
 
 " Money down, like a good business man ? " 
 
 " Money down ; only the news must be about Signora 
 Diamanto." 
 
 " On my word of honor, it is about Signora Diamanto." 
 
 "Take them then, Signor Flori," said Pantelis, secretly 
 handing the Catholic the five florins. 
 
 " Many years to you ! To-night at twelve o'clock the 
 Signora Diamanto is to meet the Signor Casteli at your 
 door. The miserable mischief-maker has invited a dozen 
 young fellows to overhear their conversation, and he showed 
 them his note." 
 
 "What do you say?" cried Pantelis, rising up like a 
 madman. 
 
 " Sit down, Signor Pantelis ! Do not make a noise," said 
 Flori, pulling him secretly by the sleeve. " You must n't 
 make a noise or you will get me into trouble." 
 
 " Let us go outside into the court," said Pantelis, becom- 
 ing more and more mad with jealousy. 
 
 There Flori narrated the affair in detail. He advised the 
 
196 Andronike 
 
 young man to let the ferocious Pedis give a beating to the 
 foul-mouthed Luigi Casteli. 
 
 Fifteen minutes before the appointed hour, Pantelis, Pedis, 
 and three of their friends armed with clubs were waiting 
 a few steps from the door for the coming of Casteli and his 
 companions. 
 
 Loula and Andronike debated for some time what course 
 they should follow to prevent evil consequences from Dia- 
 manto's unfortunate inclination for Casteli. They decided 
 to go down together at twelve o'clock in her place and re- 
 prove him ; then, if necessary, they would employ threats. 
 
 The streets were dark, and also deserted on account of 
 the arrival of the thousand Turks. Nothing was heard 
 but the murmur of the waves dashing against the walls 
 of the fortress. 
 
 Casteli, wrapped in a coffee-colored cloak which reached 
 his feet, had already approached the door, while five or 
 six of his Latin friends crept along behind. 
 
 Andronike had half opened the door when she recognized 
 him. 
 
 "My heart beats so loud that I can hardly speak, my 
 sweet bird, Diamanto. Open the door. Don't be afraid. 
 Everybody is asleep except us." 
 
 " You worthless and contemptible man ! " said Andronike, 
 seizing him by his cravat. "Do you think that you are 
 going to slander innocent girls without being punished ? I 
 know what lies you told about the innocent Angerouca ! 
 You want to do the same thing for my sister ! Now, if you 
 do not sign this paper, promising never all your life long 
 to cross this street, I will strangle you. Loula, give me 
 the pen!" 
 
 She held him so tightly with her slight but sturdy fingers 
 that, trembling and terrified, he cried out, "Do not strangle 
 me, Signora Andronike." 
 
 " Strangle the dog, Andronike ! Strangle the foul- 
 mouthed wretch who goes about slandering young women ! " 
 cried Loula, putting her own hand to his neck. 
 
 "My eyes are starting from their sockets, Signora 
 Andronike ! I am suffocating ! Help ! Murder ! " 
 
 " Is that your kind of love-affair, Signor Casteli ? " cried 
 the Catholics, laughing loudly and coming forward. . 
 
 "That's the kind," retorted Pantelis, at the sound of the 
 first blow falling from the club of Pedis upon the unfortu- 
 
Ibrahim Agha 197 
 
 nate Casteli. Then he and his companions attacked Casteli 
 and his comrades with their clubs. The former was left 
 half dead, while the latter took to flight. 
 
 The cries and commotion not only roused the neighbor- 
 hood, but attracted some sailors who belonged to the crew 
 of the frigate in the harbor and who with their captain were 
 prowling about the city. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " the captain asked of Casteli, who 
 was writhing on the ground. 
 
 " They tried to assassinate me, effendi." 
 
 « "Who did ? " 
 
 " I cannot say. Men and women came out of this house 
 and fell upon me like tigers and tigresses." 
 
 The captain ordered him to be carried to his frigate. 
 Then, to remember the place, he marked a red cross on the 
 house of Kyrios Phrancoulis and went away. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 IBRAHIM AGHA 
 
 A few days after the serio-comedy which we have de- 
 scribed, the city had been completely transformed. Neither 
 strangers nor Sciots could have believed they were inhabit- 
 ing the same place. 
 
 The comfort, the regular and careless life, and the daily 
 occupations of the inhabitants had been suddenly inter- 
 rupted by an invisible and inexplicable fear. One might 
 be seen escaping to the mountain villages under the pretext 
 of diversion, while a second embarked for some island of 
 the Archipelago, and a third buried in his fields his most 
 valuable possessions. 
 
 The newly arrived Turks acted as absolute masters. 
 They entered the houses in the character of police, stripped 
 them bare, and committed outrages of all kinds, until the 
 inmates no longer dared descend to the doors or even 
 show their faces at the windows. 
 
 Andronike realized too late that the place which she had 
 selected as an asylum was unprotected, exposed both by 
 sea and land, and likely to become the stage of tragic 
 
198 Andronike 
 
 events. She could not depart, however, for the coast trade 
 and even communication with Ionia opposite had entirely 
 ceased. Dull, unreasoning apathy, which, like a calm, often 
 precedes and follows the great disasters of a community, 
 reigned over the city. 
 
 Loula, Andronike, and Pantelis, who had caused Casteli 
 his flogging, had to fear not only the Turks but also the 
 anger of the father, if by chance he should learn what had 
 happened. 
 
 Pedis, the servant, had seen the captain of the frigate 
 mark a red cross on the wall of their house. As soon as 
 the Turk had gone, he not only rubbed it out, but carefully 
 made another cross on the wall of another house at a short 
 distance from their own. 
 
 This confused the captain, so for several days he did not 
 appear at the house of Kyrios Phrancoulis. 
 
 One morning, while they sat at breakfast, there came a 
 violent knock on the door. 
 
 " The Panaghia and Christ may call me a liar if I like 
 that knock, Kyria Andronike," said Phrancoulis, rising and 
 removing the napkin from his neck. 
 
 " That is only your fancy, Kyrios Phrancoulis," she said. 
 " Sit down and don't be afraid." 
 
 " It is not only my fancy. Last night I had a presenti- 
 ment. I had nightmares and bad dreams." 
 
 " Whose house is this ? " At the moment this question 
 was heard, a corpulent, big-bellied Turk appeared at the 
 door of the breakfast-room. 
 
 "It is mine, effendi," stammered Kyrios Phrancoulis, 
 turning pale and saluting till his knees touched the 
 ground. 
 
 The rest rose from the table and folded their hands on 
 the breast, but Pantelis kept on eating. So his father gave 
 him a sharp blow on the cheek. " Get up, I tell you, in the 
 presence of the effendi," he said. 
 
 The young man got up with burning cheeks. 
 
 Twisting his moustaches, the wild Asiatic turned his 
 heavy eyes upon each of the women. Then caressing 
 Lorentzis, he asked, "Which of these women clubbed 
 Signor Casteli in front of your door ? " 
 
 " These women clubbed Signor Casteli ! May I eat my 
 grandfather's bones, effendi, but I do not believe such a 
 thing ever happened in front of my door. On the contrary, 
 
Ibrahim Agha 199 
 
 the last time Signor Casteli came to our doorstep, we gave 
 him a chair, and he sat down and narrated how his ancestors 
 came from Venice." 
 
 " What is your name ? " asked the Turk, who was Ibrahim 
 Agha himself, the commander of the frigate. 
 
 " Phrancoulis, your servant." 
 
 "Tell me the name of each woman here, one after the 
 •other." 
 
 With a shaking voice the head of the house repeated the 
 name of each. 
 
 " Then you are the two who beat him," he said, looking at 
 Loula and Andronike. 
 
 " We did not beat him," said Andronike. " Only because 
 he kept coming in front of our door and spreading slanders 
 against the reputation of my sister and Angerouca, we just 
 frightened him so that he should not come again." 
 
 " ' Just frightened him * ! You half killed him ! The man 
 was flat on the ground. It took four of my men to carry 
 him to my boat." 
 
 " We know nothing about it. Others must have beaten 
 him." 
 
 " What have you to say about it, you surly fellow ? " he 
 asked Pantelis. 
 
 "I know nothing about it, effendi," he replied, almost 
 choking. 
 
 " The Latins say that they heard your voice." 
 
 "Their ears are mistaken. Every night at nine I go to 
 bed." 
 
 " What is your business ? " he asked Kyrios Phrancoulis, 
 meanwhile gluing his eyes upon Diamanto. 
 
 " A merchant, my effendi." 
 
 "Very well, Kyrios Phrancoulis. Which do you think 
 is best, to give me five thousand piastres and so free your- 
 self from suspicion, or for me to take these two women on 
 board my frigate until I can learn the truth ? It seems to 
 me wiser for you to finish your difficulty in a friendly way, 
 for I rather like your family, and sometimes I will come 
 here and pass an hour." 
 
 " The five thousand piastres, effendi ! Here, Pantelis, run 
 quick to the shop and bring the money, do you hear ! Will 
 you sit down and take some breakfast with us ? We are 
 just begun," said the master of the house, coming to himself. 
 
 "I will sit down," said the agha, who without further 
 
200 Andronike 
 
 hesitation unbuckled his sword and gave it to one of his 
 attendants, at the same time nodding to them to withdraw. 
 
 "My lamb, Zambele," Kyria Phrancoulis called to her 
 housekeeper, " give the soldiers anything they want to eat 
 and drink. Give them anything we have in the cellar. I 
 confide them to your care, my lamb, Zambele, do you hear ? " 
 Then she artfully tried to conceal a bottle of wine which 
 stood on the table, inasmuch as wine is obnoxious to the 
 Mussulmans, but Ibrahim Agha prevented her. " Leave it," 
 he said. "Now we ourselves drink, for Sultan Mahmoud 
 has set the example." 
 
 Then he sprawled near Diamanto, finding she spoke 
 Turkish perfectly while the rest could only chatter it a 
 little, and began to eat with his fingers and to drink to 
 repletion. 
 
 Kyrios Phrancoulis, rejoicing that in such troubled times 
 he had gained a friend who might protect him in case of 
 need, did not fail to pamper his guest with all kinds of wine 
 and to amuse him with anecdotes. 
 
 Soon Ibrahim Agha was so drunk that he lost control of 
 his tongue and hands. Not before midnight were they able 
 with trouble and promises to get rid of him and his soldiers. 
 
 As soon as he was gone, Andronike said to Loula, * I see, 
 my friend, that we shall fare badly with that monster. If 
 I can find a vessel, I shall take Diamanto and leave Scio." 
 
 " Are you going to leave us now when we need you ? " 
 
 " Surely you would not do us this wrong," said the mother 
 of the house. 
 
 " I am ready, my lady, to remain with you to the end, but, 
 if I remain, you must permit me to do what I can to protect 
 our lives and our honor." 
 
 "Do whatever you wish," said the master. 
 
 " Very well. Pedis, bring my box up from the magazine." 
 
 The family looked at her with perplexity as Pedis went 
 out to fulfil her command. 
 
 Only Diamanto understood, and at the recollection of their 
 former life, she fixed her gaze on the ground. 
 
 Soon the box was brought in. It contained the male 
 suit and the arms Andronike had used at Thermopylae and 
 Gravias. Then she opened it and took out her silver- 
 mounted gun and sword. 
 
 " Guns ! swords ! arms ! " they all cried, and like mice 
 at the sight of a cat scattered to the corners of the room. 
 
The Funeral 201 
 
 " Stop ! Why are you so frightened ? They are not 
 loaded ! Now I am going to load them, and I swear on my 
 religion that if that Turk comes again and attacks our honor 
 or our life, I will fire, and as long as I have this sword and 
 am alive, I will not permit anybody to insult me." 
 
 " Why, you look just like Bonaparte," cried Kyrios Phran- 
 coulis at last. 
 
 " When our religion, our life, and our honor are so terribly 
 endangered, Kyrios Phrancoulis, our blood must not become 
 water. Whoever with arms in his hand protects himself 
 against the attacks of a wild beast has more hopes of 
 escaping death than when unarmed he holds out his neck to 
 its mercy. The island has one hundred and twenty thou- 
 sand souls, all with Greek blood, and shall we let a thousand 
 foul Youruks kill us ? n 
 
 "Kyria Andronike, you are accustomed to arms from your 
 childhood, but we are only accustomed to giving them up ! " 
 Shielding his eyes with one hand, he turned and fled as 
 soon as Andronike began to load her gun. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE FUNERAL 
 
 Andronike was better acquainted with the Turks than 
 were the family of Kyrios Phrancoulis ; so from the day 
 that Ibrahim Agha appeared in their house she feared 
 shocking scenes. 
 
 Meanwhile, as the ferocious Turk with his men began to 
 pay them daily visits and uninvited to ask for wine and 
 food, she suggested to her fellow-inmates that it would be 
 better for their reputation if all the members of the family 
 were present in the room when they were obliged to receive 
 him. 
 
 From the very first, the eyes of Ibrahim Agha fell upon 
 Diamanto. As his visits multiplied and he knew her better, 
 he began with greater impudence and in the presence of 
 them all to express his inclination for her. 
 
 Diamanto lost her accustomed vivacity and cheerfulness. 
 She trembled like a victim whenever the door opened and 
 the huge Turk appeared. 
 
202 Andronike 
 
 Unhappy Scio ! Not only the household of Kyrios Phran- 
 coulis was forced into such an intolerable position, but every 
 master of a family had, as best he could, to tolerate one of 
 the thousand scourges let loose upon the island. 
 
 One day Ibrahim Agha, getting up to depart while sober, 
 said to Kyrios Phrancoulis, "In a few days I expect my 
 harem from Aidin, and when it comes, you will give me 
 Diamanto." 
 
 " What, ef-f en-di ! Di-a-man-to ! " 
 
 " In just five days I shall take Diamanto, and I shall not 
 afterwards trouble you for money or a woman." 
 
 "My sister, my lord, cannot go anywhere without me/' 
 replied Andronike. 
 
 " Very well. I will take you, too, not for myself, though, 
 but to send you as a present to Constantinople." 
 
 "Kyrios Phrancoulis, my lord," Andronike resumed, 
 "has authority over his own daughters, but not over us. 
 Since we are the causes of his misfortune, I inform you 
 that to-night we shall go somewhere else to live, and 
 where ..." 
 
 "Do not answer that way, impudent girl!" Ibrahim 
 Agha angrily cried, laying his hand on his yataghan. 
 " Take care not to leave this house, because your friends, 
 Loula and Angerouca, will be the first I shall take, and 
 your own head will be forfeited, Kyrios Phrancoulis, if you 
 allow them to flee." 
 
 " Alas ! alas ! What misfortunes are these ? " the father 
 began with tears, when the brutal Turk had hardly left the 
 house. 
 
 " Listen ! " said Andronike, " tears accomplish nothing. 
 To escape outrage, you must fight the Turk with the sword, 
 if you can, or else with cunning." 
 
 "I see no help for it, my daughter, and how hard it is 
 that any one should die when he has plenty ! " groaned 
 Kyrios Phrancoulis, tearing his hair. 
 
 "Well, don't do like that. We haven't reached that 
 point yet," said the Arcadian. 
 
 " To die if I am sick, well ; but if I am not sick, a bad 
 affair, my Despoinouca." 
 
 After much pains, Andronike succeeded in quieting the 
 family. 
 
 " I have a plan," she said, " which is somewhat difficult 
 and disagreeable, but will save us, if it succeeds." 
 
The Funeral 203 
 
 "Tell it, tell it, lady pallikari!" said Kyrios Phran- 
 coulis. 
 
 " Diamanto must at once pretend to be very sick, and to 
 have fallen into convulsions from terror. In two or three 
 days we must say she is dead, and bury her with pomp. 
 Then the Turk will accept the decision of kismet and will 
 come here no more." 
 
 " The plan is good," said Kyrios Phrancoulis, raising his 
 head and breathing a little more freely ; " but could Dia- 
 manto counterfeit being sick and dead ? " 
 
 " I can do it splendidly, rather than fall into the hands 
 of that beast . . . But you, Andronike ? " 
 
 "II Don't think of me! Let him try to touch me! 
 But let us do this now, and not think of the rest." 
 
 They called in the protosyngelos Poly carp, to whom they 
 disclosed everything and who promised his help. 
 
 Diamanto began her task at once. She washed in various 
 sulphurous waters so as to have a deadly color, let down 
 her hair, whitened her lips and nails, and put her feet into 
 cold water. At the same time a servant was sent to sum- 
 mon Ibrahim Agha. 
 
 " This girl fell sick from fear when she heard that you 
 were going to take her to your harem," said Kyrios Phran- 
 coulis, while some of the family busied themselves in 
 assisting, and the rest made lamentation. 
 
 The protosyngelos and the family physician stood near 
 the bed. 
 
 Ibrahim stroked his beard, and with a scowl on his broad 
 and slightly wrinkled face fastened his eyes on Diamanto, 
 who lay spread out like a ball of thread. 
 
 " She is going ! She is becoming cold ! " added Kyria 
 Phrancoulis, touching the young woman with her hand. 
 
 The captain also touched her, and, feeling how cold she 
 was, murmured, "My kismet did not intend this girl for 
 me." Then turning to the wailing Andronike, he added, 
 " Tell your sister to live and I will not come near her." 
 
 He went away, saying that he should come again in the 
 evening and see if Diamanto was better. 
 
 " What a dog ! " said Kyrios Phrancoulis. 
 
 " A little patience, a little more acting, and the thing 
 will be done," said Andronike. 
 
 "Has he gone?" Diamanto asked. "I began to believe 
 myself really sick," she said with a laugh. 
 
204 Andronike 
 
 That evening, when Ibrahim Agha entered the house, the 
 shrieks and wailing indicated that Diamante- was no more. 
 
 They had dressed her in a white robe, placed a garland 
 on her head, and bound her hands with blue ribbons. 
 
 The protosyngelos, standing near her head, was reading 
 the psalms for the dead, and the physician was trying to 
 restore the apparently insensible Andronike and Angerouca 
 to consciousness. 
 
 " So she is dead, then, Kyrios Phrancoulis," remarked the 
 agha, after he had glanced at the mournful scene. 
 
 " It is the girl's fault, effendi ; she is dead." 
 
 " So much the worse for yourself." 
 
 " Why so, effendi ? " 
 
 " Because, not to have me come any more to your house, 
 you must count me out ten thousand piastres." 
 
 " Ten thousand ! I have nothing left. You have taken 
 all I had in money, and I own only a little real estate." 
 
 " Sell some, then, and get some money." 
 
 " Who can pay me ready money ? All the money our 
 people had, you have taken." 
 
 " When do you bury her ? " 
 
 M Early to-morrow morning, my effendi." 
 
 "I myself shall accompany the remains, and on our 
 return I shall call to bid you good-by. If you have the ten 
 thousand piastres ready, all right ; otherwise I shall take 
 Andronike and Loula with me." 
 
 So saying, he turned, and with the apathy and phlegm of 
 a true Mussulman, went out. 
 
 "If I had ten thousand piastres, I would give them, but 
 I have n't got them," said the unfortunate man to the pro- 
 tosyngelos. " He took all I had. Not a day passed with- 
 out my giving him money." 
 
 "We will find them, Kyrios Phrancoulis. Pantelis and 
 I will find them," the priest answered. 
 
 "Stop!" said Andronike, hurrying to her box. "Since 
 this matter concerns Loula and me, I think it my duty 
 to offer this little. Here are a hundred Spanish doubloons, 
 which makes about seven thousand piastres." 
 
 " Did you really have so much money with you ? If I 
 had known it in my fortunate days, I should have advised 
 you to invest it in business, and now you would have twice 
 as much." 
 
 "Now, however, it is safer," said Andronike, with a 
 
The Funeral 205 
 
 smile. " But forward, gentlemen, forward ! Finish with 
 prudence what we have begun. Only one day more, and we 
 shall be delivered from this wild beast." 
 
 " I will not flatter you, Kyria Andronike ; but if you had 
 not been in this house, we should all have died from fright. 
 Let me praise you just like your father, for you deserve it, 
 and let me embrace you." Putting his arms around her 
 tenderly, he gave her a father's kiss. 
 
 The morning dawned, and the preparations for the funeral 
 began. It is sad that they stooped to such use of a solemn 
 religious ceremony. Nevertheless, the fact is that they, 
 like other wretched and pitiable Christian subjects, were 
 forced to employ every means to circumvent the greed and 
 the sword of their tyrants. 
 
 Among the funeral company was Luigi Casteli, clad as a 
 mourner, and weeping like a child. 
 
 Ibrahim Agha, shortly afterward, returned to the house 
 of Kyrios Phrancoulis. When he had eaten and drunk 
 abundantly, he received the ten thousand piastres, and 
 bade his host farewell, — not that he was leaving the island, 
 but because he intended to visit some other house, inasmuch 
 as Kyrios Phrancoulis was now utterly stripped. 
 
BOOK III 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE FESTIVAL OP PARTHENION 
 
 The outrages committed by the thousand Turks com- 
 pelled the inhabitants to petition the Sublime Porte re- 
 peatedly for relief. Finally the Divan despatched Vechet 
 Pasha as governor of the island with one hundred regular 
 soldiers. He was a man of sanguinary temperament and 
 with every evil propensity. 
 
 Soon Ilezoglou came with a thousand followers. He was 
 a Turk of a different type. He drove off the irregulars, 
 and during his brief stay checked the ravages of the gov- 
 ernor. Ibrahim Agha also left Scio, first loading down his 
 frigate with plunder. 
 
 The sun of prosperity began again to shine somewhat as 
 in the past. The former regular life partially returned, 
 and the inhabitants occasionally sat once more in front of 
 their houses. Outward appearances indicated that the 
 storm lightnings had ceased, or that the thunderbolts were 
 striking at a distance. 
 
 With the exception of Bishop Plato the hostages at the 
 fortress were changed every month. The gratifying news 
 arrived that the Turkish fleet had left Constantinople and 
 was sailing towards the ^Egean to put down disorders in 
 the islands and to correct the abuses of the hoplarchs. 
 The Sciots began to hope and to take comfort. 
 
 Yet this seeming outward improvement was otherwise 
 regarded by the principal men. 
 
 Vechet Pasha levied exorbitant taxes on the public 
 treasury, demanded enormous loans, and prevented the 
 coasting vessels from sailing on pretence that they would 
 be captured by the Greek fleet. Furthermore he compelled 
 five hundred peasants to work at digging a trench and 
 building barracks and magazines for the fortress. 
 
The Festival of Parthenion 207 
 
 After the pseudo-funeral Diamanto was at once removed 
 from the vault, and all the Phrancoulis family withdrew 
 to a remote estate which they owned in the interior of the 
 island. There in tranquillity they passed the long winter 
 nights of 1821. The report was given out that the family 
 had left Scio some months before. Everybody remembered 
 them because of their general kindness and on account of 
 Andronike and Diamanto, whose beauty had created so 
 much sensation. 
 
 Such was the position of affairs when the carnival of 
 1822 and the festival of Parthenion drew nigh. 
 
 Luigi Casteli came one day to the public school, then 
 almost abandoned by scholars, and inquired for the proto- 
 syngelos Polycarp. 
 
 "I have come, father," he said in a tremulous voice, 
 "to confess to you my great crime. I have been to her 
 gravestone and wept before it like a little child. My 
 crime is that I reported bad things about her, though she 
 was innocent. To-night I leave for Smyrna and the city, 
 and I wish to give you these two hundred piastres, which 
 I have obtained by the sale of my effects and furniture. 
 Spend it on the poor and in masses for the soul of Signora 
 Diamanto." 
 
 As the Catholic spoke, he shed bitter tears. The priest 
 was greatly moved, and gave him all spiritual consolation. 
 That very evening about nine o'clock Casteli left the island 
 on his way to the capital of the Ottoman government. 
 
 One who has never seen the festival of Parthenion can 
 hardly understand how prosperous Scio was before the 
 revolution. 
 
 A great writer has said that "dances, songs, music, 
 and festivals are the best mirrors to reflect the soul of a 
 people." 
 
 The festival of Parthenion, with its musical instruments 
 and dances, its profusion of sweets and fruits, was distinc- 
 tively typical of that busy and un warlike people whom 
 Mussulman ferocity was to find so unprepared and was so 
 utterly to destroy. 
 
 Parthenion resembles none of the sacred groves so nu- 
 merous in Peloponnesus, nor one of those romantic ravines 
 of Rhodes where trees laden with fruit and wild shrubs 
 alternate beside the foaming waters of a rapid stream. 
 It is only a monotonous valley, hollowed out by a mountain 
 
208 Andronike 
 
 torrent; a dry and pebbly bed in summer, destitute of 
 natural attraction. The whole enjoyment of this festival 
 is due to no charm of nature, but to features introduced 
 by man. 
 
 The men bring their provisions and wine, their musical 
 instruments and carpets and tents, and encamp under the 
 almond-trees in groups of four or five families. The 
 women, guileless and merry and sportive almost to absurd- 
 ity, deck themselves with flowers and chase one another 
 like children. The Romaic dance was then very popular. 
 Here might be seen crowds of banqueters, and there com- 
 panies tripping to the music of the four-stringed violin or 
 rebeck or mandolin or flute or timbrel or bagpipe, and 
 elsewhere others still who were singing or playing games. 
 Disguises and quaint costumes with incessant movement 
 and diversion rendered the scene entrancing and bewilder- 
 ing. For days the whole population of the island gave 
 itself up to the merry-making. 
 
 The household of Kyrios Phrancoulis had passed five 
 months in dreary monotony. His daughters with Andro- 
 nike and Diamanto begged him for permission to put on 
 masks and go to the festival. 
 
 At first he refused, fearing they might be recognized. 
 At last the indulgent father could no longer resist their 
 entreaties for such innocent amusement, and consented on 
 condition that they should not on any account remove 
 their masks. 
 
 Andronike put on her Albanian costume; Loula dressed 
 as a European physician; Angerouca as a Macedonian 
 soldier; Diamanto as a Jewish peddler. Pantelis and Lo- 
 rentzis assumed the clothes and hats of European gentle- 
 men, — an attire exceedingly rare at that period in Scio. 
 
 Riding on ponies, decked with strings of bells and gar- 
 lands, and attended by peasant grooms who played on 
 flutes and cymbals, like a band of Corybantes, they entered 
 the valley of Parthenion. 
 
 " Come and see these strangers ! " was the universal 
 exclamation after their arrival. In another instant they 
 were surrounded by other masqueraders and pleasure- 
 seekers. 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "Ah, these are like the people, I tell you, who took 
 Tripolitsa. Keep away from their pistols." 
 
The Festival of Parthenion 209 
 
 " Marouca, look at those Frank hats ! " 
 
 "There is a horrible bandit!" exclaimed a Catholic. 
 Turning to Andronike, he said, " Speak, please, two words 
 of Greek for us to hear your pronunciation. 7 ' 
 
 "Take care, I say, Frank! Take care, I say, or off 
 comes your head by my bullet ! " While speaking, Andro- 
 nike gave a masculine tone to her voice and placed her 
 hand on her sword. 
 
 "That person is not a Sciot! He is really from Kou- 
 melia, " cried the Catholic, shrinking back. 
 
 "Fine bargains! scissors! knives! balls of thread! 
 needles ! pins ! Venetian glasses ! " cried Diamanto, imitat- 
 ing the rising and falling inflections of the Smyrna and 
 Constantinople Jews. 
 
 She carried at her girdle a round tray containing these 
 articles, and by the bridle led an ass on which were bal- 
 anced two baskets full of fresh and dry fruits. 
 
 " Good physician ! good physician ! " in her turn cried 
 Loula. 
 
 " See, these are Jews from the city, who dragged our poor 
 metropolitan by the neck! " 
 
 The peasants clustered around Diamanto, all asking 
 questions. 
 
 " Do you come from the city, Jew ? " asked one. 
 
 " Ah ! If that was a real Jew ! " exclaimed another. 
 
 "Black grapes! white grapes! Baltajik figs! melons, 
 lemons, oranges!" continued Diamanto, throwing her 
 fruits among the crowd. 
 
 At that moment, while the crowds surged around the 
 young people, Vechet Pasha arrived on a white horse, the 
 reins of which were held by two Ethiopians. He was 
 dressed entirely in green, and escorted by one hundred 
 soldiers. 
 
 His flushed face, swarthy cheeks, fiery small eyes, and 
 his hooked nose indicated the violence of his character. 
 
 The terror of his presence interrupted the merry-making. 
 However, he ordered all to go on, saying he did not wish to 
 disturb them. Thereupon the gayety redoubled, and all 
 rivalled one another in the endeavor to propitiate the 
 tyrant. 
 
 At once they began the Romaic dance. To render it 
 more mirthful, they compelled the Jewish peddler to take 
 part. 
 
 14 
 
210 Andronike 
 
 The present Bomaic dance of Scio is curious and grace- 
 ful, but probably few are aware that it comes down from 
 Homeric times. 
 
 A circle of young women and young men is formed. At 
 their head stands the most beautiful, the queen of the 
 company, waving a handkerchief in her right hand, and 
 with her left conducting the leader of the young men. 
 She begins with slow and majestic step, while the music, 
 calm at first, follows her motions with increasing rapidity. 
 She approaches her companion face to face, then by airy 
 bounds springs into the middle of the circle, and finally 
 passes beneath the arches formed by the locked hands of 
 the dancers. 
 
 Diamanto, mirthful and agile, continued to dance in her 
 ample Jewish clothes, joking and mocking the Jewish 
 pronunciation. Then after the dance ceased she imitated 
 a rabbi in high-pitched voice reading the Psalms, after- 
 wards the Jew selling petty wares, and a Jew acting as 
 guide to travellers. She excited the crowd to enthusiasm, 
 and induced Vechet Pasha to approach. 
 
 In vain Andronike whispered to her not to be so venture- 
 some, for the crowd were becoming curious to find out who 
 they were. Diamanto had one of those impulsive temper- 
 aments which in times of merriment neither judgment nor 
 reflection can restrain. 
 
 " Are you a man or a woman ? " Vechet Pasha asked. 
 
 "I am a poor Jew from Balat in Constantinople," she 
 replied in perfect Turkish. 
 
 "You speak Turkish better than I do," exclaimed the 
 delighted pasha. 
 
 " Forty years I lived at Constantinople, and ought I not 
 to speak Turkish well? " 
 
 "Your voice is that of a young woman. Tell me the 
 truth. Are you not a woman ? " 
 
 " They call me Mercados, so how can I be a woman ? " 
 
 "Your name is Mercados because you have a mask. 
 What is your name, Jew, when you wear no mask ? " 
 
 "Joseph." 
 
 "Stop joking! What is your name?" asked the gov- 
 ernor, more sternly. 
 
 " Joseph. — Scissors ! knives ! balls of thread ! " Diamanto 
 began again like a Jew. Saluting the governor, she tried 
 to withdraw, at last realizing her position. 
 
The Festival of Parthenion 211 
 
 "Stop! stop, Jew! Tell me the truth!" Vechet Pasha 
 commanded more angrily. 
 
 "A man, my lord." 
 
 " You will not deceive me that way. No, Jew, — the 
 truth!" 
 
 "A man, my lord." 
 
 At the moment of Diamanto's reply one of the peasants, 
 in order to gratify the governor, approached the young 
 woman from behind, and at the same time unfastened the 
 ribbons of her mask. Her flushed and shining counte- 
 nance astounded the governor of the island. Diamanto 
 uttered a shrill cry and fled. 
 
 " Who gave you permission to do that ? " the pasha asked 
 of the peasant. 
 
 "For you to see her, effendi." 
 
 "Give him two hundred lashes on his feet; then fasten 
 him by the ear to that almond-tree until the end of the 
 festival," the ferocious Vechet ordered the commander of 
 his body-guard, and spurred his horse forward. 
 
 The festival was speedily disturbed by two causes, — the 
 lamentations of the peasant, and the news that the deceased 
 and buried Diamanto had returned to life. The excited 
 Sciots, though it was only noon, hastened homeward. 
 
 Vechet Pasha recognized in the language of Diamanto 
 that perfection of Turkish which only the ladies of grand 
 harems possess, and which Diamanto inevitably acquired 
 from being brought up by Chainitja, the sister of Ali 
 Pasha. He found it utterly impossible to account for her 
 language and appearance. The question flashed through 
 his mind whether she was not some Turkish woman who, 
 dishonoring her religion and her family, had put on Jewish 
 clothing and come to the festival of the giaours. He 
 wanted, therefore, to approach her again and begin a more 
 satisfactory examination, when a third cause of excitement 
 spread confusion and terror among the loiterers who an 
 hour before had been so full of joy. 
 
 It was the arrival of the advanced guard of the Sami- 
 ans. They were coming to break the chains of the inhabi- 
 tants and to deliver them from the Turkish yoke. The 
 governor supposed that the number of the advancing enemy 
 must be very great. Hastily he set out for the fortress, 
 leaving one of his men secretly to follow the Jew and find 
 out where she dwelt. 
 
212 Andronike 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 ANTONIOS VOURNIAS 
 
 The bright days of Scio ended with that festival. Its 
 brilliant sky and marvellous horizon were rapidly obscured 
 by lurid and swiftly approaching clouds. 
 
 The great fast of forty days commenced, — that brief 
 period of prayer and of repentance on the part of Chris- 
 tians, during which the diversions and petty follies of 
 carnival are forgotten. It began with suspicion and 
 gloomy presentiments. 
 
 Vechet Pasha, on the monthly exchange of hostages, did 
 not give up those who were to be released, and thus raised 
 the number of his prisoners to eighty-five. Not satisfied 
 with this, he also detained the five hundred peasants who 
 were working on the fortress. 
 
 On the twenty-third of March two thousand Samians, 
 the self-styled deliverers of Scio, arrived under the com- 
 mand of Antonios Vournias and Lycourgos Logothetis, and 
 disembarked. 
 
 Antonios Vournias, a Sciot from the village of Parparia, 
 a captain under Napoleon in the Egypto-French division of 
 chasseurs d'Orient, was an ignorant, light-headed, low- 
 lived man. Fond of brawls and wine, obstinate in his 
 plans, reckless and impudent rather than naturally brave, 
 a braggart, concealing unbridled thirst for fame under the 
 truisms of patriotism, he was to Scio what Vasileios 
 Caravias was to Dragatzana and the Sacred Legion. In 
 all history no more painful comedy was ever played than 
 by these two adventurers beneath those splendid heavens 
 of the Icarian Sea. 
 
 Within a few days the least timid of the citizens and 
 a few villagers, armed only with clubs, garden axes, 
 pruning-knives, and the utensils of the kitchen or the 
 farm, started with the followers of Vournias to assault 
 the fortress. 
 
 They accomplished nothing ; but the Turks attempted no 
 sally, waiting for the reinforcements expected from Asia 
 Minor. Eight or nine days passed after the arrival of the 
 Samians, and so far nothing had been gained. A quarrel 
 
The Arrest of Kyrios Phrancoulis 213 
 
 had also broken out between the two commanders. Vour- 
 nias wanted to spring from the rank of general to that of 
 generalissimo. The inhabitants, suffering robbery and 
 outrage, and feeling that the Turks would soon arrive with 
 overwhelming forces, did their best to leave the island. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE ARREST OF KYRIOS PHRANCOULIS 
 
 Two days after the festival of Parthenion, Kyrios 
 Phrancoulis and his brother Paraskevas were smoking 
 together in the garden. 
 
 "Phrancoulis, we must escape. Let us leave our real 
 and personal property to the Turks," said Paraskevas, 
 "and flee for our lives." 
 
 "That is my wish, too, Paraskevas, but where are there 
 vessels to flee in? I would give not only all my property 
 but the cap on my head to flee." 
 
 "We shall find a vessel. Let the rest of the Samians 
 come, and we will hire one of their ships and flee." 
 
 "Paraskevas, now that we are talking like brothers, I 
 have a bad idea and it gnaws me. May God prove me 
 mistaken, but I am afraid we shall suffer terribly if 
 Vechet learns that we are in hiding and have not left 
 Scio." 
 
 " You are panicky. I fear nothing of the kind ; and then, 
 besides, my Phrancoulis, we are somewhat old, so let us 
 rescue the girls and die for the nation." 
 
 " You are right, Paraskevas, but I would rather be alive 
 than dead any time." 
 
 " But what can we do against the will of God ? " 
 
 " So, then, you are sure that they will kill us ? " Kyrios 
 Phrancoulis asked in terror, and rose at once. 
 
 "I am not sure; but when war is going on, anything 
 may happen." 
 
 " But, Paraskevas, how can we escape ? Before we can 
 get away, we shall be arrested, and God only knows what 
 we shall suffer." 
 
 " Sit down, sit down, brother. Don't be so frightened, 
 and make me frightened too. All day and night you have 
 
214 Andronike 
 
 bad dreams. Let anything happen which God wills. You 
 have never done harm to any one, neither have I; and 
 why then are we so afraid ? " 
 
 "You are right, Paraskevas. Up there above is our 
 great Master." 
 
 He pointed to heaven, thrice making the sign of the cross. 
 
 Their conversation was interrupted by Andronike, Dia- 
 manto, his daughters, and the family of the Consul of 
 Denmark. This consul was a warm sympathizer with the 
 Greek revolution. 
 
 "What news, Kyrios ?" Phrancoulis asked, as soon as 
 he came in. 
 
 "Nothing, sir, for the moment. All goes well. As you 
 know, some of the Samian advanced guard have arrived, 
 and in a few days we expect the rest, in all about two 
 thousand, commanded by Antonios Vournias. The Turks 
 heard about it, were frightened, and began to prepare." 
 
 " What kind of man is this Vournias ? Do you know ? " 
 
 " He was in Egypt with Bonaparte. He is a Sciot from 
 the village of Parparia." 
 
 " He was in Egypt with Bonaparte ! You don't say 
 so ! " exclaimed Kyrios Phrancoulis, compressing his lips. 
 " With Bonaparte ! Since he has served Bonaparte, we are 
 in safe hands," he repeated. 
 
 " Safe hands ! Captain Vournias was an officer in the 
 French army. To be a captain under Napoleon one must be 
 somebody ! " 
 
 " As soon as he arrives I shall go to kiss his feet. Cap- 
 tain of Bonaparte ! Now you will see how the Sciot 
 insurrection will succeed ! You have come at a good time, 
 Signor Vournias, to our island. Then whoever wishes can 
 escape, and whoever stays here will not be afraid," he cried, 
 raising his eyes to heaven. 
 
 The entire company were glowing with enthusiasm, when 
 three armed Ottomans appeared in the garden. 
 
 " Is Phrancoulis here ? Which of you is Phrancoulis ? " 
 one of them asked. 
 
 " Phrancoulis i-i-i-s n-n-n-n-ot here." 
 
 "I am sure that you are he. Do not be afraid. We 
 did not come to hurt you. On the contrary, Vechet Pasha 
 sends us for your good and for the good of the place." 
 
 " Truly ! What does he want ? M-m-money ? I will 
 gladly give him what I have." 
 
The Arrest of Kyrios Phrancoulis 215 
 
 "He does not want money. Don't be afraid, I say. 
 We did not come to hurt you in the least. He only wishes, 
 since you are one of the principal men of the island, that, 
 for the safety of your family and of the place, you yourself 
 come to the fortress." 
 
 " Effendi, I cannot do it, for I am a family man 
 and I have daughters to look after. I cannot leave them 
 alone and uncared for, and be shut up in the fortress." 
 
 "Refusals are useless, Kyrios Phrancoulis. We are 
 ordered to take you by force if you resist." 
 
 " I will count out to you at once ten thousand piastres 
 if you will pretend that you did not find my brother. I ask 
 only two or three days for him, that he may put his affairs 
 in order," said Paraskevas. 
 
 " If you offered us a hundred thousand, it would be 
 useless." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because Vechet Pasha is only twenty steps outside the 
 garden, and he is well aware that the man we are after is 
 here." 
 
 " He is outside the garden ! " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; but I swear to you upon the Koran and upon 
 our Prophet that you have no cause for fear. In a few 
 days, as soon as the rebellion of the Greeks ends, all 
 the hostages will be released. The rebellion cannot last 
 long." 
 
 " I will go, since I cannot do otherwise," said Kyrios 
 Phrancoulis, embracing them all with tears and groans. 
 The parting was prolonged and painful, ending only when 
 the messengers of the stern governor were about to employ 
 force. 
 
 A few minutes later Vechet Pasha in person entered the 
 garden. His eyes turned first upon Diamanto " Are you 
 Mercados the Jewish peddler ? " 
 
 She turned red, and looked at Andronike. 
 
 " Take them both to the fortress," the governor ordered 
 his guards, indicating Andronike and Diamanto by his 
 finger. 
 
 u Hold ! " said the Consul of Denmark to the advancing 
 soldiers. " My effendi, these two young women are under 
 my protection." 
 
 " Under your protection ! " 
 
 " Both have Danish passports." 
 
216 Andronike 
 
 " By what right do they have them ? What are you 
 meddling for ? " 
 
 " By the right of the embassy in Constantinople which 
 granted them." 
 
 " I want to see those passports ! " 
 
 M They are deposited in the embassy. Give me time and 
 you shall see them ! " 
 
 " These are words ! These women are from the Morea, and 
 they have nothing to do with Denmark. To the fortress ! 
 To the fortress ! " he repeated to his men. 
 
 "My pasha, I protest," cried the consul. "If you 
 touch these women, I will leave Scio this very night. I 
 will go and rend my clothes before my embassy and before 
 your divan at the violence which you commit every day 
 against this unhappy island." 
 
 At such resistance the pasha became crimson. His little 
 eyes darted fire, and twice he angrily clenched his fists. 
 Finally he exclaimed : " I give you twenty-five days to 
 bring me their passports. If you do not bring them, I will 
 hang the two women in front of your door. Reflect, 
 giaour, that you yourself are by no means a Dane, but 
 only a Greek. You will have a bad reckoning to settle 
 for the insolent way you address me ! " 
 
 "The passports will be here in season, as well as a 
 demand for satisfaction for the insults which you throw 
 in the face of mj king. You seem to have forgotten, 
 pasha, that a consul or ambassador is only the face of his 
 king." 
 
 " Giaour, what do you want ! Giaour, son of a dog ! " he 
 added, and, storming and shaking his fists, departed with 
 his men. 
 
 11 God bless you, our deliverer!" cried Andronike and 
 Diamanto, together falling at his feet. 
 
 " I have done my duty as a Christian," he said. " Never- 
 theless, for the safety of the family of Kyrios Phrancoulis 
 and for your own, you must cease your residence here 
 and stay with me. If the Turks come again to seize them, 
 say that you have driven them off," he added, turning to 
 Kyria Phrancoulis. 
 
Diamanto and Pantelis 217 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 DIAMANTO AND PANTELIS 
 
 Pantelis was deeply in love with Diamanto, but when 
 they were together he had lacked courage to declare his 
 sentiments except by obscure and incoherent remarks or 
 meaningless sighs. 
 
 Now, when she had gone to the house of the Danish 
 consul, so that during a whole week he did not see her, 
 he was utterly wretched, and wrought to such a pitch of 
 passion that he was ready for any absurdity. He fancied 
 that, surrounded by the Samian officers, she would forget 
 him ; so, quitting his own family and going daily to the city, 
 at last he forced himself to an avowal. 
 
 One day Pantelis came with a pale face in a state of 
 excitement. Diamanto followed him into the garden of 
 the consul. 
 
 11 My mother and sisters," he said in an unsteady voice, 
 u and I, most of all, cannot bear this separation." 
 
 "And do not we too long for you all, and do we not regret 
 the necessity which has separated us so suddenly ? Yet 
 what can we do ? " 
 
 " I think it is better for us to be all together, to endure 
 whatever God wills rather than be separated. Kyria 
 Andronike has such courage that she keeps us all up, and 
 now my mother and Loula are like birds which have lost 
 their wings. I am afraid, too, that here in the city with so 
 many people you will forget us." 
 
 " That is impossible, my friend," she said, taking his 
 hand. " We shall love you and remember you as long as 
 we live. You have been so good to us." 
 
 " Shall you love us ? " 
 
 " Eternally, with all our hearts." 
 
 " And me too ? " 
 
 " Certainly," she added with a blush. 
 
 " I have loved you and worshipped you from the day you 
 came to Scio, but how could my lips say it ? Everything 
 seemed in the way, but my father and my mother wanted to 
 make you their daughter." 
 
 Diamanto fastened her eyes on the floor. 
 
218 Andronike 
 
 "Diamanto mine, I love you, and I love you so that 
 my tongue cannot say it. I open my heart to you, and 
 if you tell me no, the world will be gloomy and black 
 to me. One little word from you, my Diamanto. Do 
 you yourself love me a little? Pity me, and do not 
 say 'No.'" 
 
 Diamanto kept silent. Her expressive eyes shone. At 
 last she murmured, "I do love you a little," and her fair 
 face changed color. 
 
 " You do love me ! " Pantelis whispered. " Only promise, 
 I beg you, to marry me when my father comes out of the 
 fortress." 
 
 The daring of Pantelis in one moment accomplished what 
 his ten months' silence could not attain. 
 
 " One favor more, Diamanto mine, I shall beg of you." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "To ask Andronike to come back to our house. Now 
 that the Samians have come and the pasha is shut up in the 
 fortress, we have nothing to fear." 
 
 Diamanto promised, and Pantelis went away, almost 
 bursting with joy such as he had never felt before. 
 
 The daughter of Ali Pasha's artillery officer was trans- 
 formed. The confession of Pantelis flooded her heart at 
 once with emotion. Her position, moreover, was assured as 
 the promised wife of the son of such an important family. 
 She hastened with tears and sincere devotion to make her 
 confession to Andronike. 
 
 "If Pantelis had had the courage to declare himself five 
 months ago, you would now be his wife. Things threaten a 
 storm, but God is great, and perhaps they will turn for the 
 better. Nevertheless, I realize we must leave the city and 
 the consulate, and return to the country-place of Kyrios 
 Phrancoulis." 
 
 Hardly had she finished these words, when the consul 
 entered the house pale and trembling. " Get ready as quick 
 as you can ! We leave in an hour." 
 
 " For where ? " Andronike asked. 
 
 "For the village." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " I have no time to tell you why. In the village I shall 
 raise the flag of the consulate. Now it is time to leave here. 
 The hurricane is upon us." 
 
 Within an hour the Danish consul and his household 
 
The Destruction of the City 219 
 
 were on their way to the village, in which also the family 
 of Phrancoulis dwelt. 
 
 Already in the distance appeared the Turkish fleet, com- 
 prising six three-deckers, twenty-five frigates, and a multi- 
 tude of corvettes, brigs, and other vessels commanded by 
 the capoudan pasha Kara Ali. At the same time a swarm 
 of fortune-hunters and adventurers from all the wild tribes 
 of Asia Minor followed in its wake, covering the strait of 
 Kissos between Scio and the mainland. 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE DESTRUCTION OF THE CITY 
 
 Despite a superficial acquaintance, Europe has never 
 appreciated fully those last days of the island. For the 
 sake of peace, philanthropy has kept silence, and left the 
 barbarian to work his savage will. History has preserved 
 the story to the shame of the criminal and the abetter. 
 
 Under the brief rule of Vournias the noblest sentiments 
 were replaced by the meanest. A common care and purpose 
 preoccupied the attention of all. It was to obey blindly 
 the law of "save thyself." Then the sanguinary crescent 
 appeared to deluge all Scio with fire and blood, and convert 
 it into an earthly hell. As might have been expected, 
 Vournias and his infamous bands forthwith embarked on 
 their piratical vessels and abandoned the island. 
 
 The capoudan pasha approached slowly and securely. 
 
 Then the tigers in the fortress were let loose. Guns and 
 mortars at once set the city in flames in a hundred different 
 places. Dervishes and softas climbed to the highest points 
 to proclaim that the will of the Padishah and of the Prophet 
 and of Allah was to slaughter and burn and destroy the 
 giaours. 
 
 What Milton can worthily portray the massacre of Scio ! 
 
 No wild beast could have fallen upon the inhabitants more 
 savagely than did the Turks. Some of the Christians with 
 dry eyes silently fell under the scimitar. Others with cut 
 fingers grasped the dagger at their gurgling throats. Others 
 still, with piteous supplications and sharp or dull laments, 
 
220 Andronike 
 
 sought to avert the weapon of the greedy and frantic con- 
 queror from their heads. 
 
 The Mussulman was not content to punish his rebellious 
 slave, but sought revenge for the storm and slaughter of 
 Tripolitsa. As his blood grew hotter, at the recollection of 
 the harems of Tripolitsa and their treatment by Christians, 
 a new force was given his tireless arm to drive the iron still 
 deeper into the breasts of his victims. 
 
 When the day declined and the sun turned his face from 
 Scio, in the darkness of night that most inhuman massacre 
 became still more hideous. The red clouds of the conflagra- 
 tion, which here and there rent the ink-black darkness, 
 could not reveal the hordes of the slayers and the host of 
 the slain. 
 
 land of Scio ! Thou for whom the brooklets rippled 
 and the zephyrs whispered and the sun shone, thou paradise 
 and pearl of Greece, in what hadst thou sinned to render 
 such unutterable expiation ! 
 
 Parents lost their children, the aged were forsaken, 
 women ran barefoot to the mountains, some even opened the 
 tombs in the church-courts to find a hiding-place. 
 
 The shrill cry of women, the wail of babes, the moans and 
 death-rattle of the wounded and the dying, the exultant yell 
 of the murderer, the howls of animals roasting in the fire, 
 gunshots and pistol shots, the flying sparks and embers, the 
 crackling, hissing flames, created an inferno in which Satan 
 might have revelled. 
 
 They came to plunder what the bags of those who arrived 
 before them could not contain. They came to slaughter 
 any whom some marvellous accident had rescued from the 
 butchery of earlier comers. 
 
 In panic some of the islanders confessed that they had 
 concealed their silver plate in the graves. The report spread 
 among the Youruks. They hastened, a frightful mob, to 
 the cemeteries. 
 
 Instead of plate and diamonds they found living beings. 
 Here none had taken refuge except old men who could 
 hardly move, enceinte women, or the sick who could not run 
 to the mountains. 
 
 At first they were mistaken for spectres. Their bloodless 
 and parched lips, their deathlike pallor, their dull eyes and 
 skinny and bony forms seemed most faithful masks of 
 the newly buried. But when the Youruks heard them 
 
The Destruction of the City 221 
 
 plaintively beg for life, they laughed wildly at their mistake. 
 With jeers they cut them down inside the grave-holes 
 wherein lay the bones of men and women who by public 
 spirit and generosity had built up the wealthy city. 
 
 The British consul Guidici during those days had safely 
 carried on a trade in plunder and slaves under that 
 flag whose glory the Nelsons and Wellingtons had made 
 immortal. 
 
 If fair England, the noble daughter of ancient civilization, 
 had then known, five years before the battle of Navarino, 
 the wrong which her vile representative was committing 
 against this mother of the arts, struggling to roll the stone 
 from her grave that she might arise, she would have ex- 
 tended to her her protecting hand. 
 
 The world had thought that Greece was buried forever. 
 The present century did not believe in resurrections of the 
 dead. How could the native consuls, companions and 
 sharers in the luxury of the tyrant, living like princes in 
 the midst of slaves, wish that these slaves should breathe 
 more freely? 
 
 Guidici was a merchant by occupation. The Asiatics, 
 being unable to carry away all the articles of silver, steel, 
 and iron which they had seized and plundered from the 
 churches, houses, and magazines, brought them to the Con- 
 sul of England and exchanged them for a little money. 
 
 Guidici stood, therefore, at the door of his house with 
 the measuring-stick and balances in his hand. He bought 
 their booty from the furious lines of Mussulmans, or stripped 
 the Christians who came for refuge under the British flag. 
 
 May the Lord forgive his soul and that of the drunken 
 usurer Stiepevitch of Austria, and also that of the miserable 
 Bogliaco of Naples, and those of other Christians who sold 
 the blood of their brothers for silver ! 
 
 Twenty-three years afterward, in 1845, the commander 
 of the Greek corvette " Loudovico " was in Scio. He 
 wished to see the man who had borne himself so infamously 
 during the massacre. He found him broken by age and 
 in the depths of poverty. All of his ill-gotten gains had 
 been long since lost. Want and remorse had made his 
 life a burden. On this earth Guidici had received some 
 punishment for his deeds. 
 
222 Andronike 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 TORN ASUNDER 
 
 After the sack and destruction of the city, the frenzy 
 of the invaders turned to the villages, the monasteries, the 
 mountains, and the caves whither those inhabitants who 
 had escaped death had fled. 
 
 The family of Phrancoulis and that of the Danish con- 
 sul were in the same situation as the other inhabitants. 
 The Consul hoped to protect both households under his 
 flag. But when they heard the musketry, and knew of 
 the slaughter in the city, and saw the fugitives flying to 
 the mountains, Andronike persuaded the family of Phran- 
 coulis to go still farther toward the interior of the island. 
 They had reached the door of the consulate, hiding under 
 their armpits little packets with which they hoped to ran- 
 som their lives, and were asking the passers-by the num- 
 ber and direction of the Turks, when "They are coming! 
 They are coming ! Hurry ! Hurry ! " shouted a wounded 
 man who had stopped to rest. A cloud of dust appeared 
 near Neochori, and in it could be seen the tall turbans 
 of Youruks and Zeibecks. The tumult and terror increased, 
 and then the Phrancoulis family separated, all carried head- 
 long in the fugitive torrent. Pantelis, Angerouca, and 
 Diainanto held each other's hands and fled to the right 
 of the village. The uncle Paraskevas, led by Lorent- 
 zis, turned towards the city> and the rest in an opposite 
 direction. 
 
 Heading the pack of oncoming wolves was Vechet Pasha 
 on horseback ; he was the first to approach the vestibule of 
 the Danish consul. The latter, with a few elderly persons 
 who could not run, had shut himself in his house. 
 
 " Open ! " shouted to him Vechet, all dripping with per- 
 spiration and his face a fiery red. 
 
 " I cannot, my lord. Respect the flag." 
 
 " The flag ! The flag and your giaour king ! Break 
 down the door at once ! " The door was instantly broken 
 down. 
 
 " Where are Andronike and Diamanto ? " was his first 
 question as soon as he entered. 
 
Torn Asunder 223 
 
 "They took to the mountains yesterday night. But, 
 pasha, you are offering great dishonor to my king." 
 
 " Dishonor ! Now for honor ! " and with the side of his 
 yataghan he struck two heavy blows on the back of the con- 
 sul, hissing out again the word " giaour." 
 
 The consul realized his danger. 
 
 " Whatever you say, cursed giaour, I will not hear. You 
 are the man who made those girls escape. You are the 
 man who insulted me so outrageously. Therefore I will 
 give you a good lesson, accursed giaour." 
 
 Turning to the guards who surrounded him, he added, 
 " Perhaps at last the brains of the giaour have come back, 
 but his tardy repentance will not help him." 
 
 At a nod the troop forthwith seized the consul and his 
 family and carried them off to the fortress, whither Vechet 
 also soon returned. 
 
 Lorentzis carried on his shoulders a small but heavy bag, 
 in which Kyrios Paraskevas had placed some precious 
 articles. Together they walked without stopping toward 
 the burned city. The old man designed to take refuge in 
 the French consulate. They arrived at midnight, and wept 
 at the sight of the city. The flames had ceased, but the 
 smoking ruins were covered by that stifling and parched 
 atmosphere which follows such catastrophes. Toward the 
 end of this vale of mourning might be seen the fortress and 
 the still standing houses of the consuls. 
 
 The door of the French consulate opened to the nephew 
 and uncle. 
 
 Irene, the younger daughter of Kyrios Phrancoulis, 
 followed a company of about fifty men and women. They 
 ran on and on, up and down the slopes of the valley, never 
 once looking back. The tender feet of Irene were terribly 
 torn. Every minute her strength was failing, and she was 
 in danger of falling lifeless. Suddenly a ferocious cry 
 aroused her from her increasing faintness. A Nubian had 
 sprung among the women while they were hesitating, and 
 seized the beautiful girl. Angry at her desperate resist- 
 ance, he planted the muzzle of his pistol on her breast, 
 and the youngest daughter of Kyrios Phrancoulis had 
 passed away. 
 
224 Andronike 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE MARRIAGE IN THE CAVE 
 
 All day long Pantelis, Diamanto, and Angerouca fled 
 toward the south, where the hills are high and massive. 
 Thither also hastened other Christians. 
 
 On the second day Angerouca was unable to keep on. 
 Her feet were swollen pitiably. When morning dawned and 
 they were about to leave the open field in which they had 
 passed the night, suddenly a band of Ottomans appeared. 
 Pantelis and Diamanto tried to carry her, but it was im- 
 possible. In horror they were forced to leave her behind 
 and continue their flight. 
 
 About noon they reached a little brook between two 
 steep rocks. " I can go no farther. A little water, Pan- 
 telis ! I am dying of thirst/ 7 Diamanto murmured. 
 
 " You are too heated, my Diamanto. Do not drink for 
 a moment," he replied, turning his eyes in every direction 
 to see if they were still pursued. 
 
 " I cannot endure it, my Pantelis! My lips are parched ! 
 I cannot breathe ! " 
 
 " Wait, my darling ! wait." Taking some cold water in 
 his palms, he poured it over Diamanto's burning cheeks. 
 
 " A little more ! How blessed ! " 
 
 Pantelis again moistened her face. 
 
 " Poor, poor Angerouca ! " Pantelis repeated with sobs. 
 " I feel I shall go mad thinking about her ; but if we had 
 stayed with her, they would have killed us all three." 
 
 "Do not cry so, my Pantelis. I suppose God knows 
 what he does." 
 
 " I see a koumari-tree. The Panaghia must have planted 
 it on purpose for us. I am going to pick a few berries," 
 he whispered. 
 
 " Stop ! Do not leave me, Pantelis ! Do not leave me 
 alone ! " 
 
 "It is not far. It is not five steps from here. I 
 must pick some berries while it is daylight and we can 
 see." 
 
 Stooping under the koumari-tree, he saw a Turk stretched 
 full length under its low branches. 
 
The Marriage in the Cave 225 
 
 v> 
 
 Notwithstanding his fright, Panfcelis did not utter a 
 word. As his first emotion began to pass, he crept up 
 and seized the gun of the sleeper, which was only a few 
 steps distant. Every appearance indicated that the Otto- 
 man, mortally wounded, had fled there and expired near 
 the spring. 
 
 f "My Diamanto, don't be frightened. There is a dead 
 Turk behind the koumari-tree." 
 
 "Where? There must be other living Turks near! " 
 
 "I don't believe it, my darling. Christ sent him so 
 we should have his arms. See here, Diamanto, here is his 
 gun." 
 
 " I see it, but are you sure that he is dead ? " 
 
 "Sure!" 
 
 Then Diamanto arose, and with Pantelis approached the 
 slain Youruk, who was loaded with precious stones and 
 jewels. 
 
 " We don't want them. Who knows whom he killed to 
 get them ? " said Pantelis ; and he threw them away . 
 
 For a moment Diamanto looked at her once thrifty lover. 
 She was amazed at this revelation of his true character. 
 Then, throwing her arms round his neck, "You have done 
 well," she said; and she kissed his face. "You have done 
 well. Let us save our lives, and that is enough." 
 
 The night had begun to settle down. Nothing but the 
 hoots of owls broke the stillness. 
 
 Suddenly they discerned a form, sometimes approaching 
 and then retreating. Pantelis took the gun and aimed 
 with trembling hands. Diamanto clung to his knees. 
 Sometimes the form stood erect, and then resembled a 
 human figure. 
 
 "Do not fire. Perhaps it is a Christian. If a Turk, 
 there is only one." 
 
 Meanwhile the form came nearer, and now proved to be 
 a man. 
 
 " Stop ! Who are you ? " cried Pantelis. Before any 
 reply was heard, his shaking fingers pressed the trigger. 
 The report echoed from mountain to mountain. 
 
 "For heaven's sake, agha, do not fire again! I sur- 
 render," a suppliant voice was heard to cry. 
 
 " What have you done ? Don't you see he is a Chris- 
 tian ? " exclaimed Diamanto. 
 
 " Are you really a Christian or a Turk? Speak quick ! n 
 
 15 
 
226 Andronike 
 
 " A Christian ! Are you Christians ? " 
 
 " Yes. Were you wounded ? " 
 
 "No; the ball came very near my cheek." 
 
 " Don't come any nearer ! If you are a Christian, say 
 who you are." 
 
 "lama priest named Polycarp. I belong to the Church 
 of the Saints Victor." 
 
 " Oh, Polycarp ! We are Diamanto and Pantelis ! " 
 They sprang forward, and threw themselves into his arms. 
 
 " Another priest of my church, a presbyter about eighty 
 years old, and I hid in a cave only a few minutes distant 
 from here. Every night I come out and hunt for berries 
 or vegetables and get water from that spring." 
 
 Diamanto told about her sufferings and the cruel neces- 
 sity they were under of leaving Angerouca. Pantelis 
 wept like a babe during the recital. Then he asked for 
 the others and Andronike. 
 
 "They started for Neochori, but since that moment I 
 know nothing about them," said Polycarp, dejectedly. 
 " It is dreadful for poor Kyria Phrancoulis at her age to 
 wander over the mountains," added the priest, shaking 
 his head. "If only Andronike was with her! " 
 
 "I don't believe she is," said Diamanto, "for we sepa- 
 rated suddenly. I wanted her to come with us, for she 
 would have given us courage. But if poor Andronike 
 met any Turks, she would not have been afraid, but have 
 stayed to fight them." 
 
 "We shall go mad if we begin to talk about our family," 
 said Pantelis. 
 
 Soon they went to the other priest. He was a broken- 
 down old man, crouching in the hollow. The cave was a 
 great chasm in a cliff, reached through a high and narrow 
 rent. The entrance was almost hidden by the low branches 
 of a fig-tree. 
 
 That night they slept quietly. The next day Pantelis 
 approached Polycarp, and said that it was his desire and 
 Diamanto's to be married by the priests. 
 
 "Our situation is so uncertain," replied Polycarp, 
 "that very likely you will have no other chance. I 
 myself thought of proposing to marry you at once." 
 
 Within two hours Pantelis became in fact the husband 
 of Diamanto. 
 
 Eight successive days they passed in that narrow chasm. 
 
The Marriage in the Cave 227 
 
 Not a human being anywhere appeared. At night they 
 went out like hares in search of food. 
 
 On the ninth day Diamanto sat in the cave talking with 
 the presbyter. Pantelis and the protosyngelos stood at a 
 little distance from them, when suddenly a wild cry was 
 heard among the rocks above. Looking up, they saw 
 three mounted Turks. 
 
 As they started back, two bullets from the enemies' 
 pistols tore the fig-trees at the entrance. 
 
 "What shall we do? They are coming down," said 
 Pantelis. 
 
 "We will fight," said the protosyngelos. "Otherwise 
 they will kill us. Give me the yataghan and pistol, and, 
 old man, do you load for us." 
 
 The lamentations of Diamanto roused Pantelis from 
 his unmanly timidity. His wife was in danger ! He 
 loaded his gun. 
 
 The Mussulmans approached with horrid yells. First 
 they tried to cut down the fig-tree so as to shoot inside the 
 cave. The Christians, unable to aim, as the Turks were 
 cut off from their sight, called out "Yannis," "Kosta," 
 "Georgios," "Pantelis," and other names, to intimidate 
 the besiegers. 
 
 This situation lasted for two entire hours. The yells 
 of the Turks and the screams of Diamanto reached the 
 ears of the philhellene French captain, Paul Zourde, who 
 with some sailors was wandering over the mountains and 
 through the villages to succor the wretched islanders. 
 Seeing them, the Turks ran away and the Christians boldly 
 issued from the cave. On the headlong flight of his foes 
 Pantelis forthwith raised his gun, took aim, and fired. 
 By marvellous luck his ball struck the rearmost in the 
 head and laid him prostrate on the ground. 
 
 "Bravo! bravo! You shoot like a Suliot," cried Cap- 
 tain Zourde, transported at this wonderful shot. 
 
 "A Sciot is worth a Suliot," replied the husband of 
 Diamanto, exultingly. 
 
 "We embarked them for Psara," says Captain Zourde, in 
 his "Memoires Historiques." "But the aged presbyter, 
 then more than eighty years old, refused to abandon the 
 cave. * I commit, ' said he, ■ my few remaining days to 
 divine Providence. It is not worth while for me to go 
 away. \ " 
 
228 Andronike 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 SETTING SAIL 
 
 Leaving Neochori, Andronike and Loula hurried toward 
 the lofty mountain of Pelinos. Not once did they cross 
 one of its narrow passes or ravines without encountering 
 mutilated and suffering men whom they could not help. 
 Such was their life during fourteen successive days. Their 
 only food was wild herbs and berries, and they slept in the 
 forests and clefts of the rock. 
 
 On the fifteenth day they came to a little grove of platanes 
 and fir-trees. Entering it, they found a small marble struc- 
 ture of Venetian character, a fountain hollowed out in the 
 form of a sarcophagus. 
 
 The grove was by no means safe. However, as they 
 could discover nothing better for the night, they resolved 
 to stay there till morning. 
 
 Loula, unaccustomed to hardship, leaned her aching head 
 against the trunk of a tree and fell asleep. She did not 
 wake till daybreak. 
 
 Andronike watched till midnight ; then she slept for two 
 hours, and awoke with a start. All the rest of the night she 
 was the victim of her excited fancy. She gazed at the 
 gloomy forest, and in wild terror listened to the deep breath- 
 ing of Loula and the rustling of the leaves. After a long 
 time thinking of her situation, of Thrasyboulos, and of the 
 changes which in fourteen months had so often brought 
 death close to her, she gave herself up to tears. Then she 
 reasoned that to lose heart hastens calamity. So she in- 
 voked divine Providence, and remembered that she must 
 follow her life motto, " Act, but with wisdom." 
 
 So she got up and began to look earnestly for some safer 
 place where they might hide on the morrow. 
 
 The branches of the trees, the cliffs, the ravines, all fur- 
 nished insecure retreats. While she racked her brain with 
 such thoughts, suddenly necessity inspired her with an idea. 
 She remembered that near the marble fountain there must 
 be a subterranean chamber in which water is usually stored. 
 
 She ran thither, sounded with her foot, dug into the 
 ground, and was rewarded. She found the subterranean 
 
Setting Sail 229 
 
 ■a 
 
 chamber and the earthen circuit of the aqueduct. In a 
 tumult of joy at the discovery, she detached two or three 
 pipes from the circuit, cut off the water from the chamber, 
 and turned it so it would flow into the woods. Then she 
 opened the waste-pipe of the fountain, and, before Loula 
 awoke, all the water in the chamber had been emptied. 
 
 The chamber was of cubical form, about three yards 
 square. It was impossible at such a time to clean the 
 bottom, for it was covered with thick mud and greenish 
 grass. 
 
 Meanwhile Loula awoke. " What blessed sleep ! " she 
 said, rubbing her eyes. 
 
 " Come and see what I have succeeded in doing, dearest. 
 I have prepared our asylum. I shall spread a few branches 
 over the mud, and you will have a famous chamber." Then 
 she told her friend what she had done. 
 
 In half an hour the preparations of Andronike were com- 
 pleted. 
 
 Two things more remained to be done. They had to 
 make a small hole from which they could breathe. For 
 this purpose they chose the side which looked toward the 
 stone cistern. Then, after they had entered, they would 
 have to close the opening which they had made to enter the 
 chamber. The first they accomplished easily. As to the 
 second, they succeeded as follows. 
 
 They piled up a heap of earth, and a quantity of wood 
 near the edge of the larger opening. Then they rolled up 
 a large stone. Next they set the wood on fire so as to char 
 it. This was a trick so that, if any Turks came, they would 
 see the ashes and the scorched ground, and not suspect that 
 human beings lived below. 
 
 A few biscuit which they had found by the roadside, 
 thrown there by some fugitive, and water from the cistern 
 were their only nourishment. 
 
 In this chamber Andronike and Loula passed four long 
 days of agony, during which no human form appeared. 
 But from every direction shots and cries indicated that the 
 slaughter was still going on. 
 
 On the fifth day Loula was watching, and Andronike was 
 asleep, when a woman appeared in the distance, carrying a 
 babe on her shoulders and running toward the forest. She 
 was followed by two other women and a youth. All rushed 
 on headlong, as if pursued. 
 
230 Andronike 
 
 Speedily a Turk came in sight some distance behind. 
 
 " Andronike, Andronike, wake up ! " 
 
 Loula herself rose, looked in every direction, and said, 
 " They are hurrying to the woods, and there is a Turk after 
 them." 
 
 "Only one?" 
 
 "Wait. There must be more. At present, I see only 
 one, with his yataghan in his hand." 
 
 "Do you hear the shrieks of the poor women ?" 
 
 " He will overtake them, he will overtake them, for the 
 Youruk runs like a dog. Let us stop looking and close the 
 hole, Andronike." 
 
 " Sit down ! There is only one. Give me my gun ! " she 
 added, fastening her eyes on the Turk. 
 
 " For God's sake ! what are you going to do ? They will 
 hear us ! " 
 
 " Only one man is chasing the four. They are coming 
 toward the woods. If he once enters them, I shall lose 
 him, and that Youruk will kill them all. Hark ! Listen to 
 their cries ! Give me my gun, quick ! " 
 
 As the fleeing women approached, their screams grew 
 more distiuct. 
 
 " One poor woman has left her child so as to run faster. 
 The Youruk has seized it ! Now I have him ! " Andronike 
 cried, and she covered him with her gun. 
 
 " I will kill it if you do not stop," shouted the Turk, who 
 had already come near enough to be heard. 
 
 "Kill me, agha, but not my child," cried the frantic 
 mother, as he at that very moment lifted it by the foot 
 with his savage hand. 
 
 The wretched mother stopped. 
 
 The gun of Andronike hummed, and the Asiatic, mortally 
 wounded, lay stretched on the ground. 
 
 " Now it is time to roll the stone in place, " she exclaimed, 
 with a convulsive movement. 
 
 So they forthwith again hid themselves in their asylum. 
 Two days and nights they passed shut up, hearing voices 
 and steps around, but not being sure whether Mussulmans 
 or Christians were outside. Then, for the first time, An- 
 dronike revealed her true history to Loula and also that of 
 Diamante 
 
 " Only something like our own present circumstances, my 
 beloved Loula, could have forced my confession of how I 
 
Setting Sail 231 
 
 i ^> 
 
 was obliged to call Diamanto my sister when we first came to 
 your house. Turn and look at this slimy cistern. Bee the 
 danger to which a young woman is exposed in such fearful 
 times, and tell me now, when we are both in the same dread- 
 ful condition, if a little harmless deceit is not justifiable to 
 save one's life and honor and that of a friend ? " 
 
 "I understand you, my Andronike, and I admire your 
 judgment and courage. If you are in any danger to-day, it 
 is because your evil fate is so persistent. I understand, too, 
 why you are so brave. Your place at Thermopylae was 
 worthy of Leonidas. Still I think you were wrong in hid- 
 ing your true sex, for, if the world knew that a woman 
 fought so heroically and was wounded at the side of Diakos, 
 your name would have resounded in the world more than 
 his, and — " 
 
 " Don't speak. I hear steps and voices." 
 
 They caught the following words, which must have been 
 uttered close by the opening of their asylum, — 
 
 " T tell you that I did see smoke come out just as soon 
 as the gun thundered." 
 
 " And I tell you that you are a fool, and that you will be 
 punished in hell, because you do not believe the miracle. 
 Just as the Youruk raised his yataghan to kill my child, I 
 prayed to our Christ with my whole soul, and our Christ 
 from heaven struck him dead. If a man was anywhere near, 
 how is it that twenty of us searched for him two whole 
 days and could not find him ? " 
 
 "It was a miracle, Costalas. It was a miracle ! " several 
 voices repeated. 
 
 "I do not believe in your miracles," the man said again, 
 and sat down on the stone which closed the mouth of An- 
 dronike's and Loula's hiding-place. 
 
 Assured that the people outside were Christians, they 
 pushed the stone so as to come out. 
 
 " The miracle is a miracle," Costalas cried, as he felt the 
 stone shaken under him. Slipping off, he was astounded, 
 and his lips repeated the word " Miracle " with a gasp. 
 
 " Our Panaghia ! Our Panaghia ! The Blessed One ! " 
 . . . And the rest, catching a glimpse of the pale white 
 form of Andronike, began to shout and, falling on their 
 knees, worshipped her. 
 
 " I am not the Panaghia," she said ; and coming out of 
 the chamber with Loula, she told them everything. 
 
232 Andronike 
 
 " Don't you see it is not a miracle ? How can I believe 
 in miracles when so many priests and helpless children 
 were cut down before my eyes and no saint warded off the 
 sword of a single Turk ? " Costalas said. 
 
 " Tell me, I say, what is a miracle, then ? Did not Christ 
 send this young woman here? Did not her bullet save 
 five lives, and your own too ? " 
 
 " That is something I do not deny, and I believe it." 
 
 " My mother ! w suddenly a voice was heard. 
 
 " My child ! " another voice replied. 
 
 " Kyria Despoinouca ! " exclaimed Andronike, pressing 
 her hand in amazement to her forehead. " What does this 
 mean ? * In the space of only nineteen days so much had 
 they changed that one could hardly recognize the other. 
 The clothing of the once opulent Kyria Phrancoulis was 
 soiled and ragged, and Loula seemed changed into a woman 
 of fifty. The broken-hearted mother knew nothing of the 
 fate of her children, but had learned that her husband and 
 his brother had been put to death by Vechet Pasha together 
 with the bishop and the hostages. Her anxiety and fatigue 
 had almost deprived her of reason. 
 
 " Is not that a miracle ? " Andronike asked Costalas, 
 pointing to the two embracing each other. 
 
 "Yes! yes ! It is a miracle! May Christ forgive me!" 
 Costalas replied, many times making the sign of the 
 cross. 
 
 Altogether about fifty Christians were present, as during 
 the night others also had gathered there. 
 
 "What shall we do? Certainly we cannot stay here," 
 said Andronike. 
 
 " What can we find better than these pine-trees ? " 
 
 " We can hide during the daytime, but as soon as night 
 comes we must go to the seashore, where the boats of the 
 Psariots have begun to come, and embark for Psara." 
 
 " Let us do so," most of them said. 
 
 They rested therefore till night. When the darkness 
 was thickest, they began their journey. By dawn they 
 reached a little harbor between two promontories. There 
 they saw several Psariot vessels sailing at a distance, and 
 they signalled to them. Though these vessels had just 
 sailed from the harbor loaded with passengers, yet at the 
 shouts and signals of Andronike and her companions they 
 returned and took them also on board. 
 
The Jail on the Flagship 233 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE JAIL ON THE FLAGSHIP 
 
 The close of April, when Andronike left Scio, was 
 marked by the great calm which prevailed throughout the 
 iEgean Sea. The sun, scorching as in summer, painted the 
 atmosphere with lively tints. The sails of the galleys were 
 spread to furnish shade rather than to speed the vessel. 
 
 The Sciot exiles were stretched, sad and gloomy, upon 
 the deck. Their moist eyes were fastened upon the shore 
 of their fatherland, which they were now quitting under 
 such violent compulsion. 
 
 Who could have imagined a year ago that these people, 
 then in peace caressing the rose-petals in their gardens, 
 then forgetting the harsh winter in the warm spring 
 breezes and the music of the birds, then rejoicing in life 
 and happiness and love, were doomed to such overwhelm- 
 ing disasters ? 
 
 Yet now, when the evil days had come and like relics of 
 shipwreck they were floating toward some harbor, they 
 asked only to be spared to reach it before a new tempest 
 struck them. This was the only desire in the breasts of all 
 those long-tormented people. 
 
 The Psariot boatmen, dolphins of the iEgean, cut the 
 sea with deeper strokes to counterbalance the absence of 
 wind. As the vessel was heavily laden with an over- 
 crowded human freight, they made little headway. The 
 sight of a white sail anywhere on the blue mirror of the 
 water was enough to raise fears and anxieties among the 
 passengers. 
 
 The day was somewhat advanced when, leaving behind 
 the promontory of Psaron, they saw over against them the 
 island of Psara lifting its ashen-colored peak in the remote 
 horizon. 
 
 One cry of exultation and joy burst from them all, 
 "Psara! Psara!" 
 
 They embraced one another at this glimpse of their 
 promised land ; but the will of fate was against them. At 
 that very moment five galleys appeared from behind the 
 promontory coming toward them. 
 
234 Andronike 
 
 No doubt was possible. The boats belonged to the 
 Turkish fleet, and each carried no small number of soldiers. 
 The exhausted boatmen found new strength in their dan- 
 ger. Piercing cries and moans succeeded. The ill-fated 
 Sciots waved their hands towards Psara, hoping that the 
 inhabitants or some ship might catch sight of them and 
 hasten to their assistance. 
 
 The Turkish vessels ploughed the sea rapidly and noisily. 
 In half an hour's time they were within gunshot. 
 
 The boatmen laid down their oars and grasped their arms. 
 They preferred to die rather than permit the galleys to 
 approach. The entreaties of the women and children 
 made them abandon their purpose. A shower of the ene- 
 mies' bullets might destroy them all ; they stopped, sullenly 
 awaiting the decision of destiny. 
 
 Soon the galley was surrounded by the hostile vessels, 
 which carried more than a hundred and 6fty soldiers. 
 
 " Who is the captain ? " demanded the Turkish com- 
 mander. 
 
 " 1 am," answered the tall and slender man who held the 
 rudder. 
 
 " Where are you taking all those women and children ? " 
 
 "To Psara." 
 
 " Why do they leave Scio ? " 
 
 " Because they are killing people there." 
 
 " Tie that insolent fellow's hands." 
 
 Hardly were these words uttered when the report of a 
 gun was heard. The captain, called Androulis, at two 
 paces distant had emptied his gun into the breast of the 
 bey, who instantly fell dead without uttering a word. 
 
 The Turks fell like madmen upon him and upon his 
 seven sailors. A desperate battle ensued with fearful 
 results. The eight Greeks were killed after slaying thirty- 
 three Turks. 
 
 Then the refugees despite their lamentations were re- 
 moved to the Turkish vessels. 
 
 "Please do not separate us, effendi," said Andronike to 
 one of the Turks who was already dragging Loula by the 
 arm. 
 
 "Do not separate us," Loula sobbed, clinging to the 
 neck of her almost lifeless mother. 
 
 " You will come with me ; you belong to me," said 
 another Turk, grasping the arm of Andronike. 
 
The Jail on the Flagship 235 
 
 " Do not separate us ! Do not separate us ! " Andronike 
 begged with tears. 
 
 " Let her alone ! She is for the captain. Throw her 
 into the captain's boat," an aged Mussulman said, as he 
 approached. 
 
 " Let me go ! Kill me, but I will not come ! No, I will 
 not come ! " shrieked Andronike with a torrent of tears, 
 striking the aged Mussulman a heavy blow in the face. 
 
 " What ! Are you fighting ? Moustapha, here, help me ! 
 Here ! " and three robust Turks fell upon her. 
 
 " Kill me ! kill me ! " she cried, tearing their faces with 
 her nails and seizing the beard of one by the roots. 
 
 " My Andronike, dear Andronike, good-by, good-by. It 
 is no use, but Christ will not forget you," called out Loula 
 and her mother, who had been already taken from the boat. 
 
 " No ! I will not come ! I will not come ! I will kill 
 you with my teeth, vile Turk ! " cried the daughter of 
 the demogeront, tearing the face of him whose beard she 
 clung to. 
 
 " Don't come unless you want to," said a sailor, striking 
 her on the head with a thick club. At the heavy blow 
 the victim fell unconscious. Like a bundle she was thrown 
 from the deck into the galley of the flagship. Sinking the 
 Psariot vessel, the Turkish sailors returned joyfully to the 
 fleet. 
 
 Each galley belonged to a different frigate. The Chris- 
 tian captives were to be offered as a present to their 
 commanders. 
 
 Before the galley reached the flagship, Andronike 
 partially regained her senses. Her heart failed, and she 
 began to moan piteously. 
 
 Her clothing had been torn in the struggle. Her hands 
 had been bound when she lost consciousness. Near her 
 was neither Diamanto nor Loula nor anybody she knew. 
 She shuddered at the thought of them, for she realized that 
 they were perhaps in an even worse condition. 
 
 It was already night when they were carried on board 
 and thrown in chains into the hold of the frigate. 
 
 Here she found a multitude of other Christians, yester- 
 day wealthy and to-day by the same stroke of fortune 
 reduced to the same humble and pitiful condition. 
 
 Here the beautiful and broken flower of Arcadia 
 withered for forty-six days. She who at Thermopylae and 
 
236 Andronike 
 
 the Inn of Gravias had twice fought courageously, at last 
 had become timid and shrinking, as with her own eyes she 
 saw death approaching slowly accompanied by dishonor. 
 Her figure lost its shapeliness, and she became but the 
 shadow of that Arcadian nymph whom we met long ago. 
 Only her two great almond eyes, shining still more 
 lustrously in her pallid face, reminded one of the daughter 
 of the demogeront. 
 
 She did not speak nor groan nor weep, she scarcely 
 ate ; but immovable and crouching, with dry eyes, she gave 
 herself up to memory, reflection, and longing. 
 
 The other prisoners, who little by little had become some- 
 what accustomed to slavery and had begun to converse with 
 the sailors in the hope of lightening their chains, considered 
 her because of her silence a monomaniac. 
 
 Yet the officer in charge of the captives was not of the 
 same idea. The silent eyes of Andronike expressed more 
 than the garrulous lips of the others. Her pronunciation 
 at the rare intervals when she spoke showed she was 
 not a Sciot. So he watched her narrowly, and at last gave 
 his superiors so faithful and interesting a description of her 
 that it reached the ears of the admiral Kara Ali. 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 RAMAZAN ON THE FLAGSHIP 
 
 The Turks were keeping ramazan, that strange period 
 of prayer and mortification during which they sleep like 
 swine in the daytime and at night again like swine revel in 
 drunkenness, gluttony, and debauch. 
 
 The cities, the markets, the masts of the ships were 
 illuminated with many-colored lamps. Floating bands of 
 music enlivened the harbors and snores. Throughout all 
 the empire spectacles and shows were provided for the 
 vulgar rabble. One might see the coarse karaghiuz, or 
 listen to the romances of the mollahs, or watch the tricks 
 of the wonder-working fakirs. 
 
 The last night of ramazan was being joyously kept by 
 Kara Ali, Riala Bey, and the other captains on the deck 
 of the flagship. 
 
Ramazan on the Flagship 237 
 
 When the festival was near its close, the half-drunken 
 admiral turned to the captains and said : " In twelve days 
 the giaours of the Morea and Roumelia will hear about 
 the punishment of Scio, and understand what retribution 
 is awaiting them also. Now let them hurry as fast as they 
 please to the island of Psara. The thicker they gather there, 
 the more heads and the more money we will send to our 
 master the sultan. Aghas," he added, " ' the Ottoman 
 captures the hare with a wagon/ After Psara we will 
 take Khodes, Crete, Tenos, all the islands one after the 
 other. By Mohammed, the teacher of the right way, 
 if Chourshid Pasha, whose harem they have dishonored, 
 does not send Ypsilantis and Mavrocordatos in chains to 
 Constantinople, he will be hanged." 
 
 " Verity he will be hanged and impaled and tortured in 
 every way, if he does not send them," ejaculated the 
 capoudan bey. " We during our short stay here have sent 
 innumerable slaves and five ships loaded down with booty 
 to our magnificent sultan." 
 
 " Soon, bey, you will see not only — " Suddenly the 
 admiral interrupted himself. A cloud of smoke from his 
 pipe floated away in profound silence. 
 
 His swarthy countenance gradually began to grow 
 purple, his throat to swell ; his eyes were fastened on the 
 starry, shadowy sky ; his pulse beat fast while his 
 features showed such rage that his own flatterers and 
 officers shuddered at the rapid transformation. 
 
 " No ! no ! no ! By Allah, the reckoner ! I cannot 
 think of it without horror." He sprang to his feet. 
 "The giaours, those worthless and unclean wretches to 
 take arms against such a most mighty Padishah ! Against 
 the thunderbolt-hurling Koran itself ! By the chief door- 
 keeper of Paradise ! By Aboubekir and Omar and Ali and 
 all the saints of heaven! I cannot forget the misfortune 
 of Tripolitsa and the dishonor of Chourshid's harem. It 
 is unendurable ! " Clutching his thick moustache with 
 both hands, he began to pace the deck. 
 
 The officials had been seated with their legs crossed 
 in Turkish fashion, having in front of them little tables 
 with viands and delicacies of every kind. They at once 
 arose, and humbly folded their hands on their breasts. 
 
 This banquet took place the evening before the festival 
 of Kourban Bairam. Instead of sheep for the sacrifice 
 
238 Andronike 
 
 of the morrow, Kara Ali determined to offer the enslaved 
 Sciots. His officers understood his inhuman and sanguinary 
 will. 
 
 Within ten minutes the unhappy Christians were brought 
 from the hold of the ship on deck before their bloody 
 master. 
 
 Near the admiral who, stretched upon a sofa, impas- 
 sively heard the supplications of the victims, stood a 
 large-framed Arab, wearing a blood-red and gold-em- 
 broidered robe. At every head, struck off at a single 
 blow, the practised executioner received from the admiral 
 a piece of gold. 
 
 The barbaric shouts ami applause of the officers, the 
 captains, parasites and singers, all intoning during the 
 celebration of that atrocious scene " Allah akber," drowned 
 the convulsive cries of the victims and the piteous 
 entreaties of the survivors. 
 
 The fatal turn of Andronike had already come. Her 
 hands were bound. Her ebon hair fell in natural ringlets 
 down her back. Her only covering was a girdle reaching 
 from the waist to the knees. 
 
 She walked wearily, with her head upon her breast. 
 But when she approached the executioner and the admiral 
 and death was only one step away, for a moment she raised 
 her heart to the Most High, entreating him to accept her 
 sinful soul. Then turning towards her lawless judge, she 
 cried : " Unmanly and worthless slave ! Keep on slaughter- 
 ing, while women and children are in your hands, because 
 to-morrow you will meet the real heroes of Greece. I will 
 wait for you there. There you shall come, bloody tiger, 
 and shall give account for the massacre of these innocents. 
 You shall not escape from God's sword ; " and she pointed 
 to heaven. 
 
 " Wait ! " Springing forward like a leopard, Kara Ali 
 shouted to the executioner, who was ready to strike off her 
 head. " Who is she ? Mere death is not enough for her ! 
 Bring the instruments of torture ! " 
 
 " Bring the instruments of torture ! " repeated the Arca- 
 dian, her pale face faintly flushed — "bring the instruments 
 of torture, and do you, a thousand Turks, together torture 
 one woman ! Let the nations of the world hear that the 
 real valor of a thousand Turks is equal to that of one 
 fettered Greek woman ! " 
 
Ramazan on the Flagship 239 
 
 "Who is she ? That is enough ! Loose her hands. I 
 will show you what the valor of a Turk amounts to ! " 
 
 Kara Ali was then informed that this woman was the 
 sullen mute concerning whom the chief jailer had often 
 spoken. 
 
 " Put a sword into her hands. Call Hassan at once." 
 
 They freed the hands of Andronike. Hassan appeared, 
 a page of about thirteen. 
 
 " Hassan," said the admiral, stammering from drunken- 
 ness, " boy, let me see you strike off the head of this infidel 
 woman, who says that a thousand Turks cannot conquer 
 her." Then with a scornful laugh he said to Andronike, 
 " Now your hands are free ; defend yourself, if you can, 
 against this boy." 
 
 The eyes of the heroine, as soon as she held the sword, 
 rapidly traversed all these revellers. For a moment the 
 idea of attacking the slayer of the Sciots took possession 
 of her mind. Then, realizing the uselessness of the attempt, 
 she said to him : " You see the chains have swollen my hands, 
 but I will not dye them in the innocent blood of this child. 
 T will not do what you do to the Christians. Order that 
 man," and she pointed at the executioner, who with supreme 
 indifference had inflicted death on so many a little while 
 before, "to meet me and I will teach him what death is." 
 
 In what generous heart would not the chivalric words 
 and firmness of the Greek have called forth admiration ? 
 She did not seem to be a woman in blind despair, but a real 
 heroine of her nation and religion. But what value could 
 it have in the eyes of bovine, unfeeling, and fanatical 
 people ? 
 
 Kara Ali signed to the executioner to approach. The 
 latter hesitated at first ; then, reflecting that if he did not 
 come forward his own head would fall with torture, he 
 rushed upon Andronike, meanwhile with sneers making 
 sport of her nakedness. 
 
 The companion of Diakos calmly awaited his onset, did 
 not yield a foot, and before two minutes had passed, in 
 spite of his shouts and threats, struck him down with 
 three deadly blows. 
 
 " Send another," she cried to the admiral, who, thunder- 
 struck and amazed at the sight, was unable to believe his 
 eyes. 
 
 " My lord, spare the life of this infidel," the aged imam 
 
240 Andronike 
 
 exclaimed, falling at his feet. "Grant her the grace of 
 Islam, for from her will come forth children who will carry 
 the arms of the empire of Osman to the ends of the earth." 
 
 " Will you become an Ottoman if I release you ? " 
 
 " An Ottoman ! No ! I will not exchange the religion 
 of my fathers for the dregs of life," the Arcadian replied 
 calmly. 
 
 Her demeanor quieted the admiral. " I promise to send 
 you to the harem of the sultan," he said. 
 
 " The harem of the sultan ! It overflows with a thousand 
 women better than I, so that happiness is not very great," 
 she said. 
 
 " Most mighty admiral of the seas ! " exclaimed the imam. 
 " Thou, at whose look the raging of the water subsides, the 
 vastest billows grow calm, the winds cease, and the rain and 
 hail of the tempest are changed to morning dew ! Grant me 
 the life of this Christian ; trust her to my care, and I prom- 
 ise in three days to make her a daughter of the Prophet, 
 worthy even of you, the conqueror of this populous island. 
 Only your Highness, only you, the dread champion of the 
 empire, are worthy of this maiden. If you love your nation 
 and its expansion, do not refuse her." 
 
 " I understand you," said Kara Ali to the imam, with a 
 pleased smile. Then turning to Andronike, " Give up your 
 sword. I choose you as chief in my harem. For the pre- 
 sent keep your religion. Even Ali Pasha of Yanina per- 
 mitted his Vasilike to remain a Christian." 
 
 " Wife of the slaughterer of my brethren ! I would 
 rather die than suffer such dishonor." 
 
 She pointed her sword against herself. 
 
 "For God's sake!" "Heavens!" "Don't. Take care!" 
 Tumultuous cries were heard. Before the point touched 
 her breast, she was seized by officers of the pasha. 
 
 " Eelease her ! Put on her the costliest dress there is in 
 the flagship," added the admiral. " For her sake I grant 
 their lives to all the other Christians on this deck, but at 
 the same time they must be circumcised and accept Islam 
 in honor of my nuptials." 
 
 " Kill me, pasha ! Kill me a thousand times ! Kill me, 
 and do not inflict on me such shame," Andronike prayed 
 with burning tears, falling upon her knees. "I am be- 
 trothed to Thrasyboulos — " 
 
 " You have no shame to fear. You will become my chief 
 
Ramazan on the Flagship 241 
 
 wife," Kara AH answered her, calmed like a lamb and re- 
 garding her with languishing eyes. 
 
 "Your wife! O God, help me, help me! I shall lose 
 my senses ! Wife of a Turk, of the cut-throat Kara Ali ! 
 Think, monster, what you are doing ! I shall always hate 
 you. I will murder you in your sleep. You saw what I 
 can do. If I have no weapon, I will kill you with my 
 teeth." 
 
 At her disdainful words his tyrannical soul was again 
 excited. A woman, a mere woman in this way to oppose 
 him, who in a few days 7 time had slaughtered and reduced 
 to slavery sixty thousand human beings ! With insulting 
 gestures he threatened the Christian who had disdained 
 an offer of which the daughters of all the pashas of the 
 Sublime Porte would have been proud. At last he added : 
 " Since you do not understand the honor which I offered 
 you, I shall treat you as a slave until the day when your 
 head falls into this same basket." 
 
 He pointed to the basket in which the heads of those just 
 beheaded had been thrown. " Release her and dress her," 
 he continued. 
 
 At this second order she and the surviving Christians 
 were removed. 
 
 An hour later Andronike was again brought before the 
 violent admiral. 
 
 She was no longer half-naked, but clothed in the luxurious 
 and attractive dress of an Ottoman woman. Her black hair 
 was woven in plaits with white pearls and precious crimson. 
 Costly diamonds hung at her throat and ears. Two gold 
 tassels fastened her girdle. Her feridji, or mantle, a dainty 
 gold-wrought robe like the transparent veil of a vestal virgin, 
 drooped gracefully. Her fingers were loaded with diamonds, 
 and slippers embroidered with pearls enclosed her feet. 
 
 Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, as she entreated the 
 pasha to kill her at once. 
 
 " By the Prophet, there is not a more beautiful woman in 
 the world, and Mohammed has not a finer houri in para- 
 dise," shouted Kara Ali when he saw her. 
 
 "Bravo! bravo!" joined in the other captains, stroking 
 their beards with both hands. 
 
 " O Panaghia, come to help me ! Death is nothing in 
 comparison to such disgrace ! " 
 
 " Sit down and tell me about yourself," said the capou- 
 
 16 
 
242 Andronike 
 
 dan pasha, carried away by passion and trying to take her 
 hand. 
 
 " Don't come near me ! Monster ! monster ! coward ! " 
 she screamed, pushing him violently away. " I told you I 
 would strangle you, and I will." 
 
 Kara Ali became livid at this last insult, and in silence 
 regarded all the spectators. " Take care, wretched woman ! " 
 he said. 
 
 " Do not touch me ! I will strangle you with my nails ! 
 I will kill you with my teeth ! You will see whether I 
 mean only words." 
 
 The admiral made a sign to remove her to his cabin, ex- 
 pressing his anger by a loud vulgar laugh. " Good-night ! 
 Good-night to you, gentlemen," he said to the captains. 
 " To-morrow I will tell you all about it." 
 
 He started to withdraw, when Vechet Pasha, former gov- 
 ernor of the island, hastily climbed the flagship. He came 
 to inform Kara Ali that the inhabitants of the mastica 
 villages, which had not been destroyed because they were 
 under the immediate protection of the valideh Sultana, had 
 made a plot to rebel the next day. 
 
 At the sight of the splendidly attired Andronike, whom he 
 had so earnestly endeavored to get into his possession, he 
 cried, " What ! Is she here too ? " 
 
 " Do you know her ? " asked the admiral. 
 
 " Well do I know her." Then he began to tell all about 
 the festival of Parthenion and about her and Diamanto, as 
 far as he had learned from Kyrios Phrancoulis. 
 
 The face of the admiral kept changing color. The high 
 qualities of the Peloponnesian excited him. He walked back 
 and forth, toying with his chaplet of beads. Then he stood 
 still and asked for his diamond-studded bowl. For a long 
 time he bathed his hands and beard in rose-water, and then 
 interrupted Vechet Pasha with, "To-morrow, to-morrow, 
 my friend, tell me about Diamanto, for it is very late. 
 Good-night, and again good-night to you, gentlemen." 
 
 "Good-night," they replied, and afterwards talked of 
 nothing but the thrice happy capoudan pasha. 
 
Divine Vengeance 243 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 DIVINE VENGEANCE 
 
 The island of Psara is small and rocky, especially on the 
 north and east, where it is lined with inaccessible cliffs. 
 Although almost destitute of fortifications, some few bat- 
 teries rise near the harbor of Saint Nicolas. 
 
 The inhabitants did not then number more than seven 
 thousand, but all were of unmixed Greek descent. No 
 Turkish or Albanian or Venetian or Genoese blood had ever 
 mingled in their veins. The Psariots were distinguished, 
 above all, by ingenuity, good-humor, and enterprise. 
 
 Here the destitute and homeless Sciots received real 
 brotherly welcome. The Psariot houses, churches, and 
 public buildings were placed at their disposal, and after 
 these were full, tents and wooden huts were provided in the 
 vineyards and gardens to shelter their distress. 
 
 The tiny capital of the island, lying on both sides of the 
 fortress, and built of stone houses one story high, presented 
 nothing remarkable. Nevertheless it was free ! By annu- 
 ally paying the Sublime Porte sixty thousand piastres and 
 furnishing eighty sailors, it was exempted from the infliction 
 of a Turkish governor. At the time of the insurrection it 
 possessed about sixty merchant vessels. 
 
 Pantelis and Diamanto lived in the house of a certain 
 poor young man, Constantine Canaris, whose name was then 
 becoming famous for his intelligence, coolness, and daring. 
 
 He was at that time not more than twenty-eight years old. 
 His appearance was that of a typical Psariot. His face was 
 oval ; his nose somewhat flattened ; his slight moustache 
 silken and handsome; his complexion clear though sun- 
 burned ; his height a little above the average. His personal 
 traits expressed nobility of character, decision, and courage. 
 There was nothing fierce or warlike in his dark eyes, but 
 they were full of enthusiasm and kindness. 
 
 His grave and modest wife was a woman of distinguished 
 beauty. Count Pecchio surnamed her Athena. She loved 
 her husband almost to idolatry, yet she bore separation from 
 him like a daughter of Sparta, whenever he went forth to 
 the perils of battle. 
 
244 Andronike 
 
 Another person, then at Psara and about to play an im- 
 portant part, was the Hydriot Pipinos. He was thirty- 
 two years old, of small stature, but nervous and robust, with 
 muscular arms and frame. In many respects he was the 
 opposite of Canaris, being quarrelsome, restless, and full of 
 fire. When angry, he poured forth a torrent of Albanian 
 words, and fell like a thunderbolt on whoever opposed his 
 wishes. Nevertheless he meant well, was guileless, and 
 courageous to rashness, free in his ideas, and talkative, but 
 utterly ignorant of the language of diplomacy. 
 
 Canaris and Pipinos had heard many tragedies from the 
 mouths of the exiled Sciots. They studied how they might 
 not only alleviate the sufferings of the fugitives, but take 
 revenge of their persecutors. During those days the harbor 
 was always full of Greek merchantmen and war-ships. 
 With their insignificant craft the Greeks presumed to fight 
 with the lofty frigates of the sultan. 
 
 " I tell you I am going to blow up the pasha, off Scio," 
 said Pipinos to Canaris, one day at breakfast. 
 
 " Shall we take a fire-ship and try, Captain Pipinos ? " said 
 the Psariot, with a smile. 
 
 " Am I laughing ? I have it fixed in my head that I will 
 do it. I tell you that I never wished anything on earth so 
 much as just once to blow the capoudan pasha into the 
 air!" 
 
 "I am not laughing either, Captain Pipinos. I am in 
 earnest. I am ready to go through fire with you." 
 
 " Shake, and we will do it together at daybreak." 
 
 " Shake," said the young Canaris. " We will touch them 
 off while they are keeping their ramazan." 
 
 In fact, on the entreaty of these two determined heroes, it 
 was resolved in a council of the leaders and the other 
 captains to start at dawn with their fire-ships against the 
 Turkish fleet. 
 
 Canaris and Pipinos passed the first hours of night in 
 prayer before the Crucified. They confessed, received the 
 sacrament, and afterward made their fire-ships ready. 
 
 " May Christ and the Panaghia keep you from shaming 
 me, my Constantine ! Come back to me like a pallikari, but 
 burn the capoudan pasha first. Look at our Nicolas ! He 
 will boast that he is the son of my Constantine," said the 
 wife of Canaris, pointing to her boy. 
 
 "A happy meeting with you> my wife I Be careful of 
 
Divine Vengeance 245 
 
 yourself, and I will not make you ashamed," said Canaris, 
 gravely kissing the child. " A happy meeting ! " he repeated. 
 
 Without apparent anxiety, without tears, like a Trojan 
 hero, he departed from his wife and son. 
 
 At dawn the islanders accompanied their sailors to the 
 harbor, where Anthimos, Patriarch of Alexandria, and the 
 clergy gave their benediction to the undertaking. 
 
 The breezes, which almost every morning blow over the 
 ^Egean, in a few hours carried the brave seamen out of sight. 
 Then the inhabitants of Psara withdrew to the churches and 
 houses to pray for the success of their dauntless heroes. 
 
 About nine o'clock the wind absolutely died away, and 
 the fire-ships were detained two days off the Spalmidora 
 Islands. They carried the Austrian flag, and had thirty-four 
 sailors on board. It had been agreed that Canaris should 
 attack the flagship and Pipinos that of the vice-admiral. 
 
 While they floated together side by side, their sailors 
 talked in loud tones with each other. " Do you know what 
 I am thinking ? " cried Canaris to Pipinos, who sat at the 
 helm singing. 
 
 "How can I tell! I am singing, but I am thinking too." 
 At this reply of Pipinos a shrill laugh echoed from the 
 Hydriot crew, which was in constant rivalry with the 
 Psariots. 
 
 •'< I am thinking that if the Panaghia lets us blow up the 
 capoudan pasha, we shall also blow up all the Christians 
 who are on board as slaves." 
 
 " It is better for them to burn alive than to turn Turks or 
 be sent to the slave-market and sold. A Christian who 
 once changes his religion is not worth two paras." 
 
 "You are right," replied Canaris, looking at his iron- 
 hearted comrade, who again began to sing over and over 
 the following monotonous lines : — 
 
 " Something I gave, I gave you, 
 And how you did laugh ! v 
 
 Canaris continued pensive, sometimes turning his eyes 
 toward invisible Psara, and then craning his neck to 
 examine with a piercing glance the horizon before him. 
 
 The calm and the burning heat of June made the sailors 
 drowsy ; so after each had whistled and sung, he laid his head 
 on his arms and went to sleep. Only Pipinos and Canaris 
 were wakeful. As their boats drifted along near each other, 
 
246 Andronike 
 
 they exchanged remarks at intervals concerning the different 
 phases of the struggle. 
 
 " We are near the Tcheshmeh Channel. It begins to blow 
 a little. I wish our fleet would come just as we fall upon 
 those frigates there," said Canaris. 
 
 " See the sail fill, Captain Canaris ! Bravo ! Bravo ! 
 Now, my boys, we are just above the fleet of the capoudan 
 pasha! Just above!" roared Pipinos, in his voice like the 
 sound of a trumpet. 
 
 Every sailor instantly awoke, and each got ready for the 
 duty assigned him. At the same time the distant salutes of 
 the Turkish fleet reached their ears like rumbling thunder, 
 announcing that the sun had set, and that now the Mussul- 
 mans were giving themselves up to the luxury of a just 
 ended ramazan. 
 
 Then a sea-trumpet sounded from the flagship, ordering 
 them to come nearer or risk being fired at. 
 
 Canaris signalled to Pipinos, and they turned towards the 
 shore of Kissos, where formerly Antiochus was defeated by 
 the Eomans. As the night grew darker, they became in- 
 visible, but the Turkish fleet, on the other hand, began to 
 illuminate and to stand out more distinctly. 
 
 The many -colored lamps on the bulwarks, masts, bows, 
 prows, spars, rigging, and every portion of the ships, 
 thrown into relief against the background of an inky black 
 horizon, — a background of the island's lofty mountains and 
 of the sombre ruins of the burned city, — resembled myriad 
 sands of gold sprinkled on a black robe. 
 
 "Those Turkish lads did not capture us, Captain Con- 
 stantine," said Pipinos. 
 
 " No ! Are you sure you recognized the ship of Biala 
 Bey?" 
 
 "You bet! You bet!" 
 
 Not another word was exchanged. 
 
 As they approached nearer, they distinctly heard loud 
 noises, lamentations, uproarious laughter, and musical in- 
 struments. That evening Kara Ali had beheaded the Chris- 
 tians and had been daunted by Andronike. 
 
 "Pull softly, softly toward the shore," said Canaris to 
 his sailors, while he himself took the helm of the fire-ship. 
 " Bend to your oars. Let the rest remain with me. I do 
 not see Pipinos. Does anybody see the other fire-ship ? " 
 " Yes. It is on the left, a few fathoms in front." 
 
Divine Vengeance 247 
 
 " Good ! We have farther to go, then. Get the rope 
 of the skiff ready." 
 
 "Captain Constantine, the Hydriot fire-ship will reach 
 the Turks first ! Captain Constantine, don't let the Hyd- 
 riots leave us behind ! " said one of the sailors. 
 
 " That Pipinos is a dog," the boat-master remarked. 
 
 "Pipinos is a real pallikari. Let him succeed, even 
 though we remain behind. We did not come as rivals. 
 We came to blow up the capoudan pasha/' was the patri- 
 otic reply of Canaris. "Get the grappling-hooks ready. 
 Now for Kara Ali ! There is a boat rowing to land ! 
 Panaghia, do not let him escape us ! " 
 
 The boat which at that moment left the flagship was 
 carrying back Vechet, who had arrived on board while 
 Andronike was being borne to the cabin of the admiral. 
 
 The flagship was anchored at the head of the fleet one and 
 a half miles from the shore, and had on board, counting the 
 captives, more than three thousand souls. The ship of the 
 vice-admiral lay next, and then the other men-of-war, one 
 after the other. They formed a line, parallel to the island 
 of Homer and ending off the promontory of Kampos. 
 
 "Make your cross, lads," whispered Canaris. "Now 
 take the tiller, and do not let it move a hair from where I 
 set it. We will attack her in her prow," he ordered his 
 shipmaster. The other sailors stood each with the grap- 
 pling-ropes in his hands. 
 
 " Courage, lads, courage ! Christ is with us ! See how 
 the wind has begun to blow off Tcheshmeh, Heaven is 
 getting clouds ready," said Canaris, and he grasped the 
 torch of the fire-ship and leaped towards a cask of pitch. 
 From that moment every word, every sound, ceased. 
 Nothing was heard except the murmuring of the waters 
 which the boat cleft and left behind. 
 
 The appearance of Canaris and his sailors was something 
 terrible at that hour. Their eyes in the wild night shone 
 brighter and brighter. As they approached the flagship, 
 even their long locks seemed to rise. That unutterable 
 anxiety which, before a man sees the result, traverses his 
 breast like a fiery flame, gave a strange expression to 
 their faces. 
 
 Ten minutes passed, perhaps more, and then the- voice 
 of Constantine Canaris was heard, clamorous with joy: 
 " Christ conquers ! Throw out your grappling-ropes so as 
 
248 Andronike 
 
 to spread the fire ! Now have a brighter illumination, you 
 vile Turks!" 
 
 His words were lost in the crash as the fire-ship struck 
 the flagship. 
 
 The valiant Psariots threw their grappling-hooks upon 
 the rigging of the frigate. In the twinkling of an eye 
 they fastened the fire-ship so well to it that even by day- 
 light it could have been disengaged only by an axe. 
 
 The islanders immediately began to leap from the fire- 
 ship into the skiff. 
 
 Constantine Canaris, clinging to the rudder of the fire- 
 ship, did not follow until he was sure that the flames had 
 reached the deck of the flagship. Then the Psariot hero 
 fell prostrate and thanked the Most High for his success. 
 As he rose, his first question was, "What has become of 
 Pipinos ? " 
 
 " The ship of the vice-admiral has caught fire too ! 
 Pipinos also has had luck," said one of the boatmen. 
 
 Then close by a boat was heard fast approaching. 
 
 "They are Turks!" 
 
 " No ! It is Pipinos. Eh, Captain Pipinos, is it your- 
 self, Captain Pipinos ? " cried the boat-master. 
 
 " You bet it is. Is Captain Canaris all right ? " They 
 recognized the voice of the Hydriot hero. 
 
 "Alive and all right, Captain Pipinos. Stop! Wait a 
 moment ! " Canaris added to his boatmen. 
 
 " Did n't I say I would set it on fire ? " cried Pipinos. " I 
 did set it on fire. I did it well. I fastened the pitch on 
 well. Come, pallikaris, dig your oars in deep and let us 
 get away from this shining water. Why ! what is that 
 thing moving there ? " 
 
 The fire-ship of Pipinos had indeed been fastened to the 
 vice-admiral's ship, but unluckily, after burning the cables 
 through, it became detached. It had, however, started a 
 feeble blaze at the prow and bows and even along the 
 gangways ; but the Turks succeeded in putting it out. Now, 
 as a strong wind was rising, it was carried among the 
 frigates and other men-of-war, inspiring such terror that 
 the crews, instead of hurrying to the relief of the flagship, 
 cut their anchors to save themselves. 
 
 The skiffs of both the fire-ships had a barrel of powder 
 on board, over which a sailor stood ready to touch it off if 
 the Turks attacked. Fortunately, however, towards the 
 
Divine Vengeance 249 
 
 southern end of the strait, they soon met the Greek vessels 
 which were waiting for them. Near daybreak they arrived 
 at Psara. 
 
 Some of the inhabitants ran for their arms, and others 
 entered the churches to thank God for the victory. When 
 Canaris with his usual moderation told what they had 
 done and extolled the courage of Pipinos, the enthusiastic 
 Psariots tossed their caps into the air, clapped their hands, 
 crowned the victors with garlands, rang the church bells, 
 and fired a volley from their fortress. 
 
 Let us return to the flagship of Kara Ali. 
 
 After Andronike was carried to his cabin, she was closely 
 guarded by two frightful eunuchs. The admiral entered and 
 gave them a sign to withdraw. Then turning to the im- 
 prisoned maiden, he said, " Sit down, Christian ! I want a 
 plain talk with you." 
 
 Her hands were bound, and she looked around the cabin 
 in every direction, seeking how she might escape. 
 
 "A slave does not sit down in the presence of her mas- 
 ter," Andronike replied. 
 
 " Sit down, and don't be spiteful. I told you that I in- 
 tend to make you my principal wife. Vechet has told me 
 who you are and who your father was. Sit down, my 
 lady ! " Kara Ali added, and approached her. 
 
 "No, I will not sit down, I will not sit down," she 
 murmured to herself j and with a bound she sprang to the 
 other end of the cabin. 
 
 " Do you imagine that we are going to play in this way 
 like children ten years old? Will you run away every 
 time I approach?" 
 
 Andronike did not speak. Her face became menacing. 
 She meant to force the tyrant to kill her. 
 
 " Well, well. Stand up if you want to," said the pasha, 
 with a laugh, throwing himself on his sofa. "Sit down 
 on the end of my sofa and I will not touch you. I only 
 want to ask you something." 
 
 "I can hear you standing." 
 
 " You are the daughter of the demogeront of Demetzana. 
 I am very sorry for the death of your father and brother, 
 but who is to blame ? Who told you to take arms against 
 your lawful sultan ? " 
 
 " We did not take arms unjustly or lawlessly. On the 
 contrary, we most righteously seek to become free, as God 
 
250 Andronike 
 
 made all men, and we want to retake the places which you 
 have lawlessly taken from us." 
 
 " Are you not then free ? What do you lack ? " 
 " We are so free that a few hours ago you were cutting 
 off the heads of women and children only because they 
 were weak creatures and could not resist." 
 
 " I cut them off as an example to rebels, and to revenge 
 Tripolitsa. Who began it ? You did." 
 
 "No; you slew our patriarch and his synod. You 
 butchered the Christians of Constantinople and Smyrna. 
 You, in 1769, butchered three thousand Christians in Tri- 
 politsa, and many thousand more in the rest of the Pelopon- 
 nesus. What comparison is there between Tripolitsa and 
 Scio ? There the Greeks entered victorious after the ob- 
 stinate resistance of your horrible Albanians, and killed 
 people in fight, while here the inhabitants do not know 
 what a weapon is." 
 
 " You would be the most wonderful woman in the world, 
 if you were not so insolent," said the admiral, looking at 
 her with admiration. 
 
 "Insolent! but now it is the truth. If they take me 
 before Sultan Mahmoud, I will tell the truth." 
 
 " Listen to me, my lamb ! Very often a woman by sweet 
 words and gentle ways can save many lives. I think that 
 you would not do badly in submitting to my affection, both 
 for your own good and the good of the other Christians in 
 our ships. Now that I know your family, I repeat that I 
 do not hesitate to declare you my chief wife. Sit down, sit 
 down here beside me. I will not compel you to change 
 your religion. I feel that I love you as if I had known you 
 a long time." 
 
 " Thanks. I can hear standing up." 
 
 "No, I want you to sit beside me. Do me this favor." 
 
 " It is not a favor when one is near the mouth of a wild 
 beast." 
 
 "You call me a wild beast when I am treating you 
 so kindly. You will bitterly repent if I once become 
 angry." 
 
 " Do you mean to kill me ? I prefer that to staying 
 here." 
 
 Kara Ali reflected for a moment, and then said, "Tell me, 
 then, what you want me to do to please you. I see that 
 little by little you will command and I shall obey ! " 
 
Divine Vengeance 251 
 
 " I want you to let me throw away these clothes. I want 
 you to chain ine again as I was before." 
 
 " No, my soul, that cannot be ; but tell me, do you think 
 you will love me sometime ? " 
 
 Andronike detected a slight change in his brutality, and, 
 to improve her position, said, "Time corrects many things." 
 
 " Suppose that sometime hence you love me passionately, 
 will you not repent for the tortures you inflict on me now ? 
 If there is any hope of your ever loving me, why don't you 
 give me your heart this moment? Come, my soul, have 
 compassion on me. Come, come, my beautiful parrot! 
 Come, my maid of paradise ! Stop, my nightingale, do not 
 flee ! Come to my arms, and drop these pretences." He 
 rose up, all on fire. 
 
 " my Panaghia ! O my Christ ! " shrieked Andronike, 
 trying to run to the opposite end of the cabin. 
 
 " Stop, my bird ! Do not flee, for I shall catch you. You 
 cannot escape. The door is locked." 
 
 Her hope was indeed vain. Kara Ali held her tightly 
 by the arm. 
 
 She tried to seize his long beard, and cursed him ; but he 
 clasped her tightly in his two strong arms and, pushing and 
 pushed, fell with her upon his divan. 
 
 The Arcadian was fast losing consciousness, but at that 
 moment a crash and confusion was heard. 
 
 The admiral raised his head and listened. 
 
 Tumults and shouts immediately succeeded the noise. 
 Then was heard often repeated the cry, so terrible to the 
 Turks, " Yangun var / " — fire — and the door of Kara Ali 
 was beaten upon with violence. 
 
 " Who is it ? What 's the matter ? " 
 
 " The giaours, my lord, have taken us by surprise ! The 
 giaours have fastened their fire-ships to our vessels ! This 
 frigate is everywhere on fire. Hurry! in the name of 
 the Prophet, hurry, my lord ! " cried the silichtar of the 
 admiral. 
 
 Instantly he sprang to his feet, first dealing a ferocious 
 blow on the face of the Christian. Then, like lightning he 
 darted to the door, the key of which he had in his pocket, 
 repeating angrily the word " giaour." He opened it, and 
 ran on deck. 
 
 Andronike staggered to her feet as soon as she had 
 recovered from the blow which the monster had given 
 
252 Andronike 
 
 her ; she hastily locked the door on the inside. Then 
 she tore off her garments and threw them away, opened 
 one of the windows, and, like a water nymph, leaped into 
 the sea. 
 
 The fire-ship of Constantine Canaris had already spread 
 its devouring flames over the exposed portions of the flag- 
 ship. The wind, which in divine vengeance began to blow 
 more fiercely, soon swept the hungry tongues of the con- 
 flagration to the stern, above through the rigging, and down 
 the gangways to the inside of the ship. 
 
 The assassins of Scio sought refuge in the ropes, under 
 the planks, at the mast-heads, on the yard-arms, and in every 
 high or secluded place, and fell like moths around a lamp- 
 wick. 
 
 Wherever they turned, they encountered inevitable death. 
 Here the sky glowed with fire, and there it was black with 
 smoke. Blazing brands, hands, feet, and mutilated human 
 trunks were hurled hither and thither. 
 
 Howls of the dying, curses of despair, supplications to 
 Allah and Mohammed, crash of breaking timbers, thud of 
 the yard-arms, and shrill shrieks of prisoners made a hell of 
 that watery scene. 
 
 The other ships of the line, seeing the fire-ship of Pipinos 
 carried here and there among them, and supposing that the 
 entire Greek fleet was there in the darkness of the night, 
 began to discharge their cannon at random and to cut their 
 cables that they might escape to the open sea. 
 
 In the midst of the uproar the cannon of the flagship, 
 heated as in a furnace, began to go off and endanger with 
 their balls the few vessels which approached to give assist- 
 ance. They went off in all directions, with so rapid and 
 repeated shocks, that the frigate, shivering from convulsion 
 after convulsion, was not far from breaking up. 
 
 The mountains of Scio, with distant echoes, sent back the 
 roar of the catastrophe. 
 
 Confronted by universal disorder and inevitable ruin, the 
 coward Kara Ali, after running from prow to stern and 
 from stern to prow, and nowhere finding a hope of safety, 
 instead of remaining, and by his example encouraging the 
 rest, leaped into his gig and sought to flee from that death 
 which he had inflicted on so many. 
 
 Then the sailors and the other Turks who had assembled 
 there on account of ramazan, began by hundreds to throw 
 
Divine Vengeance 253 
 
 themselves into the sea. Grappling to the admiral's gig, 
 each one sought to save his life upon it. 
 
 The confusion and tumult had so much increased that not 
 only was the gig of Kara Ali in danger of being swamped, 
 but it could not get away from the blazing vessel. The 
 boatmen with their yataghans mercilessly cut off the fingers 
 and hands which clutched at the gig. 
 
 At that moment of horror the mainmast of the flagship, 
 all ablaze, fell with a thud, awful as thunder, on the light 
 skiff, crushing the body of the admiral Kara Ali. 
 
 Two or three of the sailors seized their expiring master, 
 and, swimming, carried him to the shore of Scio, where he 
 was awaited by the ghosts of the Christians whom he had 
 assassinated five weeks before. 
 
 Meanwhile the fire reached the powder magazine. Then 
 came the tremendous explosion, as if a whole mountain-peak 
 was hurled headlong into chaos. The glare of the sky for 
 an instant disappeared, and then returned more lurid. The 
 hull of the enormous ship in a thousand directions flashed 
 ten thousand stars. It rose to the surface of the water and 
 then sank, drowned forever in the yawning abyss below. 
 
 Two minutes later and the darkness had already become 
 more dense. Where the proud ship was anchored a little 
 while before, nothing floated but bits of wood and rope and 
 human remains. 
 
 Andronike had profited by the turmoil. She swam a long 
 distance, and reached the island on the right of the fortress, 
 where the windmills and a small mosque stood in a row. 
 The latter had already been shattered by the enemy's balls. 
 She took refuge in one of these mills. There, half naked, 
 she beheld the destruction of the frigate with a heart grate- 
 ful to God that He had saved her once more. 
 
 Soon she heard swimmers approaching the bank. She 
 caught the words : " We are there, my pasha. A little far- 
 ther and we are safe." Then : "We are safe, master ! 
 Glory to God!" 
 
 By the blaze of the burning frigate, Andronike made out 
 three men, who were coming out of the water, and carrying 
 another half dead. 
 
 " Master, don't you hear ? Look, my master, we are on 
 shore ! " 
 
 " He is finished ! The admiral is dead ! He can't hear 
 us!" 
 
254 Andronike 
 
 "Kara Ali dead! God rest his soul! Now, giaours, 
 take care ! " 
 
 At that instant the flagship leaped into the air. In the 
 flash like the last glimmer of fireworks filling the air 
 with luminous rays, she could perfectly distinguish the 
 corpse of him who two hours earlier was tormenting her by 
 his unholy passion. 
 
 She lifted her hand to her forehead and touched her 
 hair. Then she remembered that in it and on her fingers 
 and neck still remained the pearls and diamonds with 
 which he had adorned her. 
 
 She tore them off, wound them into a corner of her 
 dripping skirt, and, while the sailors bore the body of the 
 admiral into the ruined mosque, started rapidly toward the 
 interior of the island. 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THRASYBOULOS AND KYRA R 
 
 "Keep his mouth shut! No kicking, or I will tie your 
 feet too," said to Carl one of the Albanians who were 
 carrying him and Thrasyboulos to the lake of Yanina. 
 So unexpected, on coming out from the abode of Barthakas, 
 was the onslaught of the villains, that both man and master 
 had been seized without noise or resistance. 
 
 It was after midnight, and the streets were dark and 
 deserted. 
 
 The captives were taken to the shore of Saint Nicolas, 
 near the monastery of the same name, where Ali Pasha had 
 formerly drowned Euphrosyne. 
 
 A large fishing-boat was waiting. They were put on 
 board, and then the groom of the caftanji sent away his 
 assistants. 
 
 " Pull softly," said the groom to the head fisherman. 
 
 They left the shore and, lighting a lantern, began with 
 a round-headed club to beat on the deck just as fishermen 
 do when driving fish toward their nets. In other words, 
 they pretended to be fishing like thirty other men who, 
 beating in the same way, here and there lit up the surface 
 of the lake. 
 
Thrasyboulos and Kyra R 255 
 
 " Give me your ring, I say. Light up here, and let me 
 see what this pallikari has for the caftanji." 
 
 As soon as Thrasyboulos saw the shore of the lake, 
 he understood the scheme of Barthakas. What a horrible 
 position he was in ! From the walls of an endurable prison 
 he had escaped that he might hasten whither the voice 
 of love and patriotism called, and suddenly he found himself 
 face to face with an unexpected death. 
 
 " Sir, do as you please with me," he said to the groom, 
 "but spare my good servant. He is a Hungarian, and 
 never harmed any one." 
 
 " I want both, I say. Ten thousand piastres ! With 
 that, I say, I can build a palace at the top of Metzovo." 
 
 The eagle eyes of the Albanian were fastened a full 
 minute on the face of Thrasyboulos. Then he drew back 
 violently. " By the beard of my Prophet, it is astounding," 
 he muttered. 
 
 The nephew of the patriarch also recalled something 
 familiar in the face of his executioner. 
 
 " It 's a pity, those ten thousand ! What a nuisance, when 
 1 have a blood-covenant with this Christian ! " he growled. 
 Kara Seid Ali was in very truth the antagonist whose life 
 Thrasyboulos had spared on the plain of Dragatzana. 
 
 " What ! Is it you, Gheg ! You have a covenant with 
 me, but now you want to drown me." 
 
 " Curse the covenant ! I say, I lose ten thousand piastres 
 by that same covenant ! " 
 
 " Spare our lives, and at once I will give you as much. 
 We have n't hurt anybody. The caftanji wants to drown 
 us from jealousy in a love-affair." Then he told him about 
 Barthakas and about himself, and how the former had tricked 
 both Greeks and Turks. 
 
 The words, the promises, and the accents of Thrasyboulos 
 made so much impression that the other boatmen interceded 
 for his life. 
 
 " Give me your ring and I will give it to the caftanji, 
 I say, so he will think I have drowned you and will give 
 me ten thousand piastres more. I am going back and 
 am going to fight with the Turks. We Albanians are like 
 hawks in a hencoop." 
 
 "Here 's the ring. Come with us to the consulate and 
 I will give you the ten thousand piastres." 
 
 Kara Seid Ali released them, and before dawn Thra- 
 
256 Andronike 
 
 syboulos had paid the money and left Yanina. He took 
 the road toward Arta, uncertain as to where he could.be 
 safe. 
 
 About sunset the next day he saw a horseman galloping 
 rapidly after them. It was Kara Seid Ali. 
 
 " I have got it, I say, a couple of tens ! Here they are, 
 I say, in my wallet," shouted the Albanian from a distance. 
 " I said that after I had killed a man like that I had 
 better not stop in Yanina, for the Russian consul would 
 hang me. The caftanji thought so too, and he gave me 
 two thousand more to go wherever Allah wills. I am 
 tired of fighting, and, now that I have a fortune, I am going 
 to have a quiet time in the Ionian Islands." 
 
 From Arta the Albanian went to Corfu, but Thrasyboulos 
 to Misolonghi. 
 
 There he remained a few months, and made the acquaint- 
 ance of Markos Botsaris and Mavrocordatos. He fought 
 at the battles of Kombotis and Peta, but, being unable 
 to obtain any information about his betrothed, afterward 
 went to Patras, Corinth, Nauplia, and finally to Demetzana. 
 
 In the outskirts of this last city, on the top of Mount 
 Elias, he met the aged hermit, and from him learned in 
 detail all that had taken place at the tower of the demo- 
 geront and understood to the bottom the villany of 
 Barthakas. 
 
 No doubt remained in his mind as to the innocence of his 
 beloved. Therefore without losing time he started for the 
 
 Corycian Cave to see Kyra R , that relative of Odysseus 
 
 who, according to the story of Barthakas, was the last person 
 to see her. Moreover, he strongly desired to make the 
 acquaintance of Odysseus, whose name was in everybody's 
 mouth. 
 
 Toward the end of 1823 he reached the cave. By 
 
 degrees he approached Kyra R and began to ask about 
 
 the battle of Gravias. 
 
 " Don't you mean, captain, that lucky fight at the Inn ? 
 The bullets fell like hail, and the wonder is they did not 
 hurt anybody. There was pretty good timber over our 
 heads, and so we held out." 
 
 " Were you the only woman at that battle ? " 
 
 " The only one ! I think I was ! What other woman 
 would want to go there in those crowds of Turks ? Their 
 guns roared like God's thunder." 
 
l^hrasyboulos and Kyra R 257 
 
 "I heard there was a certain Andronike there dressed 
 like a man." 
 
 " Are you talking about Captain Andronikos ? The 
 captain Andronikos a woman! Ha ! ha! ha ! Who told you 
 that story ? " 
 
 " I heard that she was a woman who after the battle of 
 Gravias eloped with a soldier. " 
 
 " Truly he was shaped like a woman, but there were 
 men and boys there, and for six months I was betrothed to 
 him, and I received his pledge and a marriage crown. What 
 am I telling you ! That disgusting Diamanto, the daughter 
 of Ali Pasha's artillery officer, got him away from me and 
 played me many tricks. By heavens, I would like to catch 
 her and give her a cord for her tricks !" 
 
 Thrasyboulos was confused and perplexed at the vehe- 
 ment talk of the woman. After some minutes' reflection he 
 asked, " Don't you mean somebody else ? * 
 
 " Bravo ! Who else than Captain Andronikos ! The 
 man who was in the battle with Diakos, and whom Odys- 
 seus brought grievously wounded to the cave; who had 
 cheeks like fire, and a milk-white face, and coal-black eyes, 
 and hair like the raven's, and lips red as rabbit's blood ! 
 The only man I ever saw who equalled him in sweetness and 
 charm, without flattering you, is yourself, — yes, yourself, 
 Kyrios Thrasyboulos." The Suliot darted at him one of 
 her fiery glances. 
 
 " Listen to me, lady ! Were you ever at Yanina ? " 
 
 " As if I was not a long time with Chryse, the wife of 
 Markos Botsaris. Once I came near a fight with Konstan- 
 tinos Botsaris, for he was very familiar, and, as I am a very 
 modest woman, I was disgusted." 
 
 " Did you ever know the caftanji ? " 
 
 11 That twisted dwarf ! If I did n't know him ! I gave 
 him one once, and one for his bey. He told Omer Brione 
 to be gentle with me because I am a woman, and I got mad." 
 
 "Did he ever ask you anything about Captain Andro- 
 nikos ? " 
 
 " Surely he did, and I told him the same story that I tell 
 you, of how he ran off with the daughter of Carreto. That 
 is the reason, Kyrios Thrasyboulos, why I took to the 
 mountains and ran to Yanina to look after them." 
 
 "Many, many thanks. If you knew how precious thii 
 
 information is to me, Kyra E ! " 
 
 17 
 
258 Andronike 
 
 "Did you ever know Captain Andronikos, Kyrios Thra- 
 syboulos ? " 
 
 "He is my brother," Thrasyboulos replied, after some 
 reflection. 
 
 " Your brother ! " exclaimed the Suliot, with agitation. 
 " Your brother ! Now I recognize the resemblance. Tell 
 me what I can do for my brother-in-law, and do you know 
 what has become of my lover ? " 
 
 " For a long time I have sought him, and I cannot learn 
 anything." For a moment Thrasyboulos was lost in gloomy 
 reflection; then, with a smile at the manner of his com- 
 panion, " Are you a Suliot ? " he asked. 
 
 " You are both pretty boys, I say, but you have the fault 
 
 of laughing too much," Kyra E continued. "Think, 
 
 I say, what a Suliot dove like me is worth. Kyrios Tre- 
 lawny, who came to-day to the cave, has been very attentive 
 and does not take his eyes off me." 
 
 " Who is Kyrios Trelawny ? " 
 
 " That Englishman, that rich fellow, our good luck." 
 
 Thrasyboulos turned, and in the rear of the cave saw a 
 handsome, robust young man, seated near Odysseus and 
 talking with him. The man was Mr Edward Trelawny, 
 the friend of Lord Byron. 
 
 "Let us join them," said Thrasyboulos to the Suliot, 
 and rising* he crossed to the other side of the cave. 
 
 This Englishman occupied a peculiar position in the 
 history of regenerated Greece, and gained no little renown 
 in both East and West. 
 
 He was then about thirty-three years old. Nature had 
 bestowed on him a romantic face. His black eyes, wild, 
 haughty, restless, never still, expressed daring and love of 
 adventure. 
 
 The son of a noble and opulent family of Cornwall, 
 he had shipped, while very young, on a man-of-war. The 
 blind obedience exacted on a war-ship did not suit his active 
 and venturesome nature, so he deserted after the vessel 
 arrived in the East Indies, and formed relations with the 
 pirates of those seas. In their midst he passed the turbu- 
 lent years of his life. He met with astounding vicissitudes ; 
 more than once he narrowly escaped death. One day a 
 deadly quarrel with the pirates made him leave them and 
 return to England. 
 
 Again he quitted his native country and went to Italy, 
 
Thrasyboulos and Kyra R 259 
 
 which brought him near to the East and to those oriental 
 customs with which he was already familiar. 
 
 He became intimate with Lord Byron, the poet Shelley, 
 and Count Gamba. When the ill-fated Shelley was wrecked 
 in his bark, " Don Juan," and drowned in the bay of Spezia, 
 Trelawny recovered his body and buried it at Rome. 
 
 In addition to Odysseus, his wife, his sister Tarsitsa, a 
 
 beautiful girl of thirteen, and Kyra R , there was in 
 
 the Corycian Cave at that time a certain Yannis Gouras. 
 The latter was a tall athletic man, with a masculine and 
 handsome face and a lionlike expression. He possessed 
 great bodily strength, and was a man of daring and 
 decision. 
 
 His manners however were awkward, for he had no 
 training or education. Vulgar in conversation, phlegmatic 
 and rough in society, like a hireling by turns he injured his 
 friends and foes alike. Odysseus admired his courage and 
 strength, and made him his proto-pallikari. 
 
 Early in 1823 he had married a wealthy and beautiful 
 girl from a village of Phocis. In her honor the garrison 
 at the Acropolis of Athens tired salutes on three successive 
 days and feasted at the marriage. 
 
 "Kyrios Thrasyboulos, ask Kyrios Trelawny which he 
 likes best, his country or this cave. Tell him that I hate to 
 talk Italian, but I am willing to learn English from him." 
 So spoke Kyra R on joining the circle. 
 
 "This cave has splendid associations," replied Mr 
 Trelawny. " Here dwelt Pan and the nymphs. Here all 
 Delphi was hidden at the time of Xerxes. Here to-day, in 
 the midst of these exquisite stalactites, lives our Odysseus, 
 the most glorious hero of modern Greece." 
 
 " I don't believe the cave has any nymphs now, even if 
 you hunt for them. Kyrios Thrasyboulos, ask him if in 
 England the women go to war as they do in Greece." 
 
 " No. In England only the men go to war, but there are 
 some women who sail in ships over all the seas of the world 
 and share their husbands' dangers." 
 
 " Truly ! When I am in a felouka, the sea is too much 
 for me, but I can race with you over these mountains. Ask 
 him, Kyrios Thrasyboulos, if he will go hunting some day 
 with me and see which will give out first." 
 
 " With pleasure," said Mr Trelawny. 
 
 " Say to him, Kyrios Thrasyboulos — " 
 
260 Andi'onike 
 
 " Stop these questions, I tell you, Kyra R ," Captain 
 
 Gouras interrupted. "We have some important matters 
 and—" 
 
 "That husband of yours, lady, is always stupid. He 
 breaks upon talk with a man, as a worm does upon a rose," 
 said the Suliot, angrily turning to Kyria Gouras. 
 
 " We have, in fact, some very important matters," Odys- 
 seus added. 
 
 " Well, well." Then, coughing knowingly and looking at 
 Mr Trelawny, she added, "Nature will out," for the English- 
 man had meantime cast many sweet glances toward the 
 young sister of Odysseus. 
 
 "When do you think Lord Byron will come to Greece ?" 
 Odysseus asked Mr Trelawny. 
 
 "Near the beginning of January." 
 
 " Will he bring the loan with him ? " 
 
 " Certainly, if the affair is settled. If not, he will come 
 by himself, and the loan afterwards." 
 
 " Then you are a friend of the illustrious lord ? " 
 
 " Friends ! We are like brothers." 
 
 " I expect a favor from your Excellency." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "In Greece to-day," said Odysseus, scowling and pausing 
 a moment, " are a hundred wolves, — Mavrocordatos, 
 Ypsilantis, Colocotronis, Mavromichaelis, and the rest. As 
 soon as the loan arrives, they will gobble it down at once 
 before a single para is spent for the nation. The best plan 
 is for the lord to bring it to this cave, and when he knows 
 the place, to expend it gradually where the country needs 
 it." 
 
 "The idea is not bad," Trelawny replied. 
 
 " About how much is this loan ? " Thrasyboulos inquired. 
 
 " One hundred thousand pounds." 
 
 " One hundred thousand pounds ! " 
 
 The eyes of Odysseus glistened. Not less avaricious than 
 Ali Pasha, he sprang up as if a fire had been suddenly 
 kindled in him, and, beginning to walk, he asked Mr Tre- 
 lawny how many piastres there were in one hundred thou- 
 sand pounds. 
 
 " About ten million." 
 
 "Ten millions ! There is no safer place for such a sum 
 than this cave," he said after reflection. 
 
 " I do not think it wise to have the loan brought here, for 
 
Thrasyboulos and Kyra R 261 
 
 then an entire army would be necessary to guard the cave/' 
 Gouras interrupted. 
 
 " Certainly that fool Gouras wants it to be somewhere 
 else, because if it is in the cave, how can he get hold of it ? " 
 
 cried Kyra R , looking at him maliciously. " Keep it, 
 
 Odysseus." 
 
 " I can write to Leicester Stanhope to let us have three 
 or four of those cannon which they have taken to Miso- 
 longhi. If we plant them at the mouth of the cave, who 
 will dare to approach ? " 
 
 "If they let you have three or four cannon, that is 
 another matter," stammered Gouras, darting a look of hate 
 at Kyra R . 
 
 " I want to speak to you, Gouras," said Odysseus. " Come 
 outside the cave. I have something to say to you." 
 
 Gouras rose and followed in silence. 
 
 " That Englishman, Kyria Gouras, does not take his eyes 
 off you. I am afraid he has bewitched you, and that we 
 shall have some trouble with Captain Gouras," said the 
 Suliot. 
 
 " He is looking at us both, but he looks at Tarsitsa most 
 of all," the young woman answered, with a deep blush. 
 
 " Nonsense ! Tarsitsa ! A girl twelve years old ! That 
 Englishman keeps looking at you and me, Kyria Gouras. 
 I have not lost my brains enough to make sheep's eyes at 
 strange men," she added, with a languishing glance at the 
 nephew of the patriarch. "You are getting up, Kyrios 
 Thrasyboulos. What are you starting for ? " 
 
 " I am going to take a little walk outside the cave," he 
 answered, annoyed at her bold demeanor. 
 
 " Wait ! I am coming with you. My heart is all stuffy 
 from this Englishman's talk about money. He can't say 
 two words in Greek." 
 
 "'And I am coming too," said Tarsitsa. 
 
 " Take Tarsitsa with you," said Kyria Elene, the wife of 
 Odysseus. 
 
 " You can run after us ! Come, child. If you can't keep 
 up, we shall leave you somewhere on the mountains." 
 
 "We are not going to run, though," said Thrasyboulos, 
 with a laugh. "We are going out to walk." 
 
262 Andronike 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 GOURAS AND ODYSSEUS 
 
 After Odysseus and Gouras had left the cave, they fol- 
 lowed silently the rough road which mounts toward the 
 summit of Mount Corycia. During the ascent Odysseus 
 said: "I want an explanation, Gouras. Your manner 
 toward me has greatly changed of late, as if you had 
 forgotten both who I am and what you owe me." 
 
 "I am the same always, general, but you allow nobody 
 else to get on. You grab everything for yourself, and want 
 always to keep those down who have served you with their 
 blood." 
 
 The rapid gait of Odysseus and the expression on his 
 pale but attractive face indicated much anxiety, while on 
 the usually impassive countenance of his companion and in 
 the tone of his reply one could read a fixed determination. 
 
 "You are wrong, Gouras, in saying that I oppose your 
 advancement. Was it not I who appointed you commander 
 of the Acropolis of Athens, a position which four or five 
 other chiefs petitioned for earnestly ? " 
 
 " What in comparison with my services is the command 
 of the Acropolis ? Have you counted how I have fought 
 for you, and how often I have come near death for your 
 sake ? Do you remember how indignantly I rejected last 
 June the flattering offers the government made me if I 
 would betray you ? " 
 
 The face of Odysseus turned red. He sat down on a 
 stone and said to Gouras: "We did not come here for 
 quarrelling, and for you to throw these services of yours in 
 my face. Do you think that you did a very great thing in 
 not killing me ? Two months afterwards the ungrateful 
 government would have done the same thing to you. Don't 
 talk to me of the government. As long as we had no gov- 
 ernment, while each captain fought by himself with his 
 pallikaris against the Turks, the Turks trembled before us. 
 The foreigners, who now seek to direct affairs, did not dare 
 show their faces in Greece. I love the nation, and I have 
 done for it more than any other person. Yet the govern- 
 
G our as and Odysseus 263 
 
 ment to-day has forced me into a position where I must 
 either withdraw to the Ionian Islands and live there in 
 obscurity or finally join the Turks. Do you think that I 
 do not understand, that I do not see, how the abyss is dug 
 under me on all sides ? Nevertheless, I shall fight the 
 government wherever I can." 
 
 " You show a nice love for the nation in planning to get 
 hold of its loan," added Gouras, with an ironical smile. 
 
 " What do you mean by that ? " 
 
 " 1 mean that I myself have a right to part of the loan, 
 and that, before trouble comes, we should further strengthen 
 our friendship by sharing it like brothers." 
 
 " And do I intend to squander it ? What do you mean, 
 Gouras ? " said Odysseus, touching his hand. " I want it in 
 the cave for no other purpose than that I may place the 
 government under my orders." 
 
 " When it is once in the cave and Trelawny has given you 
 two or three cannon to protect it, then who will be able to 
 get at it? We know each other pretty well, general." 
 
 " We know each other thoroughly, Gouras, and therefore 
 I am astounded at your talk. Was it with the money of 
 the government that I fought the Turks so long ? Tell 
 me, I ask you. When Bourat Pasha at the head of six 
 thousand Turks burned every village and monastery of 
 Bceotia, and the government did not send me the promised 
 assistance nor money for me to fortify Thermopylae, and 
 when my soldiers refused to follow until they received some 
 pay, and the ephors at Athens, after promising us forty 
 thousand piastres for our expenses, also sent us nothing, 
 did I not myself with my own six hundred men hurry to 
 Salamis and Megara and compel the Peloponnesians to 
 come to our aid, and did I not then disperse the enemy on 
 the banks of the Cephissus and a third time save Greece ? " 
 
 " All you say, general, is true, and I know it ; but what- 
 ever you might tell me about the loan, I know you. I 
 know you are as avaricious as the dead pasha of Yanina. 
 If the loan falls into your hands, other people will not get a 
 para of it. So I want an agreement now, that I am to have 
 my share." 
 
 " Let it come first and we will not quarrel over it," said 
 Odysseus, laughing. 
 
 " No ! We must agree about it now ; otherwise I shall 
 prevent its coming to the cave." 
 
264 Andronike 
 
 " You will prevent it ! " 
 
 "I shall." 
 
 " How ? " 
 
 u I know how." 
 
 " Look here ! You know Odysseus ; " and he laid his 
 hand on his weapons. 
 
 "And your Excellency knows me just as well. I am a 
 man of deeds and not merely of words." 
 
 " Do what you can," said Odysseus, rising angrily. * The 
 loan is coming to the cave. It all depends on my friend 
 Trelawny, or rather on my son-in-law. Probably you are 
 aware that Trelawny is betrothed to my sister Tarsitsa." 
 
 " I did not know it," said Gouras, in surprise. 
 
 "No matter. The affair is already concluded," Odys- 
 seus rejoined soberly. 
 
 Gouras remained thoughtful a long time, without how- 
 ever rising from the stone on which he sat. "To-day, 
 when all the hoplarchs and the government itself are 
 against you, Odysseus," after some time he remarked 
 gravely, "it is folly for you to quarrel with Gouras. You 
 have forgotten how I have always loved you and always 
 been your right arm." 
 
 " I know it," said Odysseus, and for a second time an 
 ironical smile played on his lips. 
 
 " You have never understood me, general ; you have never 
 appreciated my services nor my value. Last year I asked 
 your sister Tarsitsa in marriage and you refused me. To- 
 day you give her to a foreigner, Trelawny, whom you hardly 
 know. We shall see which of us two can serve you best." 
 
 " I have reasons for this connection." 
 
 " Surely no other reasons than such as concern the loan," 
 said Gouras emphatically, with a smile. 
 
 "You are mistaken ; that is the least reason. Trelawny 
 is the bosom friend of the famous Lord Byron, who is 
 expected daily. That lord, so Colonel Stanhope informs 
 me, is celebrated the world over for his wealth and writ- 
 ings. It would not be strange if eventually he became 
 king of Greece. Do you understand me now ? " 
 
 Gouras, who was valiant but illiterate, and less profound 
 and shrewd than Odysseus, listened to these words with 
 gaping mouth. 
 
 " Do you understand me, Gouras ? If you do understand 
 me, continue to be my friend, no matter what others do. 
 
G our as and Odysseus 265 
 
 Await my own rise, my beloved Gouras, that you may rise 
 also. Otherwise you will meet many difficulties." 
 
 These words Odysseus pronounced in a supercilious man- 
 ner. He treated the man just as if he were still his mere 
 under-officer. Gouras, although intrepid, audacious, and 
 self-willed, was speedily disarmed. 
 
 That was a melancholy period. Both were men of like 
 ambition and avarice, equally inclined to despotism. Each 
 wished in his own way to act as unquestioned despot over 
 his inferiors. Yet Gouras, although he had come with 
 the determination of measuring by the same standard his 
 words and acts with those of Odysseus, already had timidly 
 yielded and remained defeated. This was not because he 
 feared him or respected him or was unwilling to brave the 
 man who had made him governor of the Acropolis, but be- 
 cause he was still under the spell of his long-continued sub- 
 jection. He waited for the time when Odysseus, stripped 
 of his power, should be no longer formidable, or rather for 
 the time when he might undermine him and supplant him. 
 Then Gouras would become terrible and absolute. Fortu- 
 nately for Greece, both were removed by death before 
 either attained the supreme power. 
 
 Odysseus, in spite of defects and faults, possessed rare 
 ability and certain virtues. Gouras, on the other hand, 
 could have become only a brutal and ignoble tyrant. 
 
 Now, when Odysseus told him that, for the purpose of 
 putting himself at the head of the struggle, he had be- 
 trothed his sister to Edward Trelawny, the friend of Lord 
 Byron, who was awaited as a messiah by all, Gouras, who 
 had looked on Odysseus as half crushed by his numerous 
 enemies and by the hostility of the government, controlled 
 his dissatisfaction and believed a grand career opened for 
 himself. More than any one else he realized the daring 
 and astuteness of Odysseus. He believed, therefore, that 
 the clever chieftain was using Trelawny to draw Lord 
 Byron into his cave and to avenge himself of the govern- 
 ment. He believed Odysseus would escape from the fatal 
 position toward which he was being pressed, by either him- 
 self grasping the reins or joining the Turks as the only 
 means of delivering himself from governmental persecution. 
 
 "Your mind is equal to everything," Gouras finally 
 stammered in his amazement. 
 
 " You will see other things also, Gouras, which I cannot 
 
266 Andronike 
 
 explain to you now and which you do not imagine. I shall 
 make them all appreciate better what Odysseus is." 
 
 " Then what do you mean, general ? Shall I not have a 
 para as my share of this loan ? " 
 
 " When it comes to the cave, if you are always my faith- 
 ful Gouras, you shall have your share." 
 
 " Your hand, general." 
 
 " Take it," said Odysseus, grasping the strong hand of 
 his ally. "But you yourself, Gouras, by suggestions and 
 arguments must influence Trelawny to hasten its arrival in 
 the cave." 
 
 " I will not fail. Trust me to finish what you have begun." 
 Gouras decided once more to pretend warm devotion. 
 
 They rose and were returning to the cave, when at some 
 
 distance from the entrance they found Kyra E , 
 
 Thrasyboulos, and Tarsitsa sitting down. 
 
 " See, Thrasyboulos, they are coming back like milk and 
 honey," said the Suliot. Then she shook her head and 
 added: "I wager my neck that Odysseus has arranged 
 with that fellow how to divide the loan of the lord. We 
 must look out, Kyrios Thrasyboulos, to get some too. 
 Take care that your future wife does n't lose her part of 
 that loan." 
 
 Thrasyboulos, who was thinking of something else, had 
 already obtained the information he desired from Kyra 
 
 E , and intended to leave the cave the next day ; so he 
 
 nodded mechanically without uttering a word. 
 
 As they approached, Gouras, who did not take into ac- 
 count the free tongue of the Suliot, said in joke : " I observe, 
 
 Kyra B , that you are partial to pallikaris. Take care 
 
 that you don't lead Thrasyboulos astray." 
 
 " First see what your own wife is doing, Kyrios Gouras, 
 and then look after other women. You left her in the 
 hands of the Englishman. Ah, Panaghia! Kyrios Tre- 
 lawny has an eye which shoots glances like needles." 
 
 Gouras flushed with anger. 
 
 "If you knew that Kyrios Trelawny was betrothed to 
 Tarsitsa, you would not speak like that before her," he 
 said presently. 
 
 "Betrothed!" 
 
 " Certainly. Didn't you know it ? " said Odysseus. 
 
 " With this chicken ! She has n't come out of the egg 
 yet. And does the Englishman want her?" 
 
Gouras and Odysseus 267 
 
 " Do you doubt it ? " 
 
 The sharp speeches of Kyra R continued until they 
 
 reached the cave. 
 
 Thrasyboulos sorrowed greatly over what he saw and 
 heard. He could not understand how men engaged in such 
 a noble and desperate war against their oppressors, men 
 who must either break their chains or endure an excruciat- 
 ing death, could intrigue with such pettiness in reference 
 to the loan which the suffering nation needed to continue 
 its holy struggle. 
 
 At last he concluded that if the war against the Turks 
 was carried on by a regular and central government, whose 
 orders were to be followed by the severest legal penalties, 
 perhaps such things would not happen. Unfortunately the 
 Greek insurrection had to begin without a government, 
 blindly, mysteriously, only by a Hetairia whose unknown 
 and scattered members confronted responsibility and dan- 
 ger far beyond their strength. 
 
 Each of the hoplarchs moreover, while doing his duty, 
 expected a reward not inferior to that of anybody else. 
 Each counted on his own advancement. Each expected, as 
 soon as the government was formed, to become a member of 
 it, and each considered his services were unequalled. 
 
 Moreover, we must never forget that the demoralizing 
 influences of Turkish misrule had not yet been eradicated. 
 It was not strange that in many men thought of personal 
 advantage overrode patriotism. 
 
 Misolonghi was the only place in Greece where quarrels 
 and intestine feuds did not prevail, and where patriotism 
 and the moral and physical strength of the nation seemed 
 to rally daily. 
 
 There were Markos Botsaris and Alexandros Mavrocor- 
 datos ; there the philhellene Lord Byron was expected. 
 Thither, therefore, Thrasyboulos determined to go on the 
 morrow, and forestall, if possible, the schemes formed by 
 the inhabitants of the Corycian Cave concerning the loan. 
 
 Until midnight he acted as interpreter to Gouras and 
 Trelawny while they discussed the loan. Through this 
 conversation he became fully informed as to its probable 
 disposition. 
 
 At last the lights were put out and they all sought rest 
 in sleep. The next day at noon Thrasyboulos set out for 
 Misolonghi. 
 
268 Andronike 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE BULWARK OF GREECE 
 
 What had become of Andronike ? Where was she 
 hidden with Diamanto ? Were they alive or dead ? These 
 questions racked the soul of Thrasyboulos. 
 
 Though every corner of Greece was a scene of slaughter, 
 he still trusted that divine Providence had spared his be- 
 loved and would restore her some day to him. 
 
 Yet it was useless to wander any longer in search of her, 
 for he did not know where to turn. He loved her devotedly, 
 but his love for the fatherland was strong. 
 
 After three days' journey he reached the Evenos, the 
 ancient Lycormas, which derives its later name from the 
 iEtolian king Evenos, who was drowned in it. It flows only 
 six miles distant from Misolonghi. 
 
 This capital of western Greece, where Lord Byron left 
 his heart, lay northwest of the Gulf of Patras between the 
 rivers Evenos and Acheloos, in a plain terminating at the 
 foot of Mount Aracynthus. 
 
 The ground on which it stood was low, barely above the 
 level of the sea. Hence, when the south wind rolled up 
 the waves, the houses along the shore were surrounded by 
 water, but when the north wind blew the sea retreated to a 
 distance. 
 
 Such a lagoon, covering sixty-five square miles, is its 
 natural ally, for it forbids the approach of even the smallest 
 vessels. From the surface of the water emerge many scat- 
 tered and sandy islands, useful to the fishermen, but in 
 time of war natural fortifications capable of being made 
 still stronger. Among the most familiar are Marmaros, 
 Xecalamisma, Cleisova, Scylla, JSsostis, Dolma, Poros, 
 Anatolicon, Procopanisto, Aghia Trias, and Vasiladi, but 
 there are many more. 
 
 On the side toward the dry land, a ditch four feet deep, 
 and a wall of brick and stone stretch from one end of the 
 harbor to the other. 
 
 Such was Misolonghi before the Greek revolution. Its 
 fisheries were well known. Its celebrated public school 
 ranked with those of Scio. Pemetzana, Constantinople, 
 
The Bulwark of Greece 269 
 
 Kydonia, and Yanina. The illustrious professors Panaghi- 
 otis and Palamas were among its teachers. 
 
 Thrasyboulos found the city already greatly changed from 
 •what it was when he left it after the battle of Peta. 
 
 Omer Brione, emboldened by the victory of Peta, the 
 capture of Suli and the treason of several Greek leaders, 
 had advanced into western Greece, expecting to cross from 
 Misolonghi to Peloponnesus, and there unite with the bulk 
 of the Turkish army. 
 
 Alexandros Mavrocordatos decided that behind the tum- 
 bling walls of that city he would check the torrent un- 
 loosed by the torturer of Diakos. 
 
 The undertaking was daring and perilous. The inhab- 
 itants of Misolonghi and the neighborhood were terrified at 
 the mere mention of such a plan, and fled to the Ionian 
 Islands and to the heights of Aracynthus. 
 
 Markos Botsaris alone swore to fall with him there or 
 to conquer. Then his example was followed by the arch- 
 bishop Porphyrios, and about three hundred and sixty 
 other patriots. 
 
 They imperfectly repaired the fortifications of the city 
 and the ditch, and obtained a few cannon. 
 
 Speedily the hordes of Albanians and Turks, over ten 
 thousand strong, appeared with their usual snouts and 
 threats, and commenced the siege. They were also aided 
 toward the sea by ships from the Turkish fleet. 
 
 To gain time until expected reinforcements should ar- 
 rive, Mavrocordatos amused the enemy with hopes of 
 surrender. He began to negotiate in secret separately 
 with the two chief generals and with the admiral of 
 the fleet. Aware of the bitter rivalry existing between 
 the three, he could have devised no cleverer stratagem to 
 gain time. 
 
 At last the Greek vessels were sighted. Thereupon the 
 Turkish ships weighed anchor, and in a panic sailed away 
 to the Ionian Islands. 
 
 The real blockade having ceased, abundant stores poured 
 into the town. At the same time seven hundred soldiers 
 arrived under the command of Petro Bey and Za'imis. 
 When soon afterwards the hoplarchs Marcris and Tsongas 
 with their soldiers and a thousand other Peloponnesians 
 under Lontos reached the city by water, the garrison, with, 
 cheers, abandoned their defensive tactics for the offensive 
 
270 Andronike 
 
 and made a sally. They repulsed Omer Brione, and slew 
 more than a hundred Turks. 
 
 At such an unexpected change of fortune, the peasant 
 mountaineers of iEtolia, thirsting for revenge on the Turks, 
 who had ravaged their country and plundered their flocks, 
 boldly left their hills and fell upon them. Furthermore, 
 Petro Bey, with a part of the garrison, went by sea to 
 support the peasants in the rear and cut off the Turkish 
 communications by water. 
 
 Omer Brione recognized that he was outwitted by the 
 Greeks, and hampered by his jealous fellow-commanders. 
 He decided at midnight just before Christmas, while the 
 Greeks were preparing to celebrate the birth of Christ, to 
 attack the city. Eight hundred Albanians were to march 
 in front provided with ladders. 
 
 By good fortune Mavrocordatos and Botsaris learned his 
 plans. Taking possession of all the church-keys, they pre- 
 vented the inhabitants from keeping the festival. Then, 
 when they knew that the Turkish forces were near enough, 
 they opened a deadly and unexpected fire upon them from 
 all the batteries. In the darkness of night, the conflict 
 raged obstinately. Finally, just before dawn, Brione was 
 compelled to retreat, leaving five hundred dead and twelve 
 flags. The Greeks lost only a few killed and wounded. 
 
 Pursued by Markos Botsaris, Petro Bey, and the infuriated 
 peasants, whom success had transformed to lions, the brutal 
 pupil of Ali Pasha found no refuge till he reached the walls 
 of Arta. He abandoned to the Greeks ten cannon, four 
 mortars, all his stores, and a great quantity of valuable 
 booty. 
 
 The name of Misolonghi then resounded throughout all 
 Europe. Mere mention of Markos Botsaris and Mavro- 
 cordatos filled men's hearts with admiration, and called 
 tears of gratitude to the eyes of women. 
 
 The provisional government clearly saw that this city 
 was second in importance only to the Isthmus of Corinth. 
 They ordered the engineer Petro Cokkinis to fortify it ac- 
 cording to the demands of modern warfare. 
 
 Each battery and outwork was named after some honor- 
 able and contemporary Greek, — Botsaris, Canaris, Corais, 
 Rhegas ; or some philhellene or historic personage, as 
 Byron, Franklin, William Tell, William of Orange. 
 
 The Suliots, expelled the preceding year from their 
 
The Bulwark of Greece 271 
 
 rocky fastnesses, had fled thither with their heroic wives. 
 Here were assembled the philhellenes, those children of 
 western Europe who had come to shed their blood in be- 
 half of Greece. Here were such men as Stournaris, the 
 conqueror of Ismail Pasha, an experienced klept from the 
 valleys of Acheloos, and Konstantinos Botsaris, whom we 
 met during the last days of Ali Pasha, and Kitsos Tzavelas, 
 by whose sword the Albanian and Grecian tribes used to 
 make their oaths with the imprecation, " May the sword of 
 Tzavelas slay me ! " 
 
 In spite of the poverty and lawlessness of the period, the 
 Swiss physician Meyer founded the " Greek Chronicle," a 
 paper breathing enthusiasm and liberal ideas ; and Demetrios 
 Paulos, a pupil of Cora'is, taught ancient Greek, French, 
 and Italian. 
 
 In a word, Misolonghi assumed the appearance of a cap- 
 ital, though it nominally held no such rank, and became the 
 right eye of regenerated Greece. 
 
 On the day of Thrasyboulos's arrival, a council was being 
 held in the house of Markos Botsaris, then military com- 
 mander of western Greece. 
 
 It had been summoned because the youthful vizir, Mous- 
 ta'is Pasha, surnamed the Scodra Pasha, with a numerous 
 army and with the Algerine fleet, was advancing to avenge 
 the defeat of Omer Brione and to destroy the city. He 
 proposed afterwards to cross to Peloponnesus and deal the 
 deathblow of the insurrection. 
 
 " I thought," Count Pecchio used to say, " that the Italian 
 artist exaggerated the color and figure of the ancient Roman 
 soldiers. Their solemn features, their athletic limbs, their 
 sunburned complexion, truly appeared to me exaggerations ; 
 but when I saw the people of Roumelia I was persuaded 
 that such pictures were not inexact. The latter are the 
 finest men I ever saw." 
 
 Markos Botsaris, the royal eagle of Suli, is perhaps not 
 included in this glowing sentence of the noble philhellene. 
 He was only five feet tall, the average height of his com- 
 patriots. He was supple, agile, and light as the wind. 
 The people of Epirus boasted in their songs that he could 
 walk over a waving wheatfield without ever bending its 
 slender stalks. His features were regular ; his face pale 
 and melancholy ; his eyes blue as the sky ; and his long hair 
 reached his girdle. Like his brother Konstantinos, he 
 
272 Andronike 
 
 spoke little and reflected much. His pensive silence con- 
 cealed a heart that was dauntless and gentle, always just 
 and always sincere. In athletic contests he resembled the 
 heroes of Homer. 
 
 Gentle as a summer breeze in time of peace, in battle he 
 was forceful and intrepid as the hurricane. He courted 
 danger, disdained booty, and pursued only the glory and 
 liberty of his country. His clothing, wrought by his sister 
 Angelike and by his wife Chryse, was not adorned with 
 gold and silver like that of his pallikaris. Without con- 
 tradiction Markos Botsaris was the most illustrious warrior 
 and most splendid character whom modern Greece can 
 boast. 
 
 Present at the council were the principal hoplarchs and 
 the leading philhellenes. They were deliberating what 
 measures they should take to check the oncoming host of 
 sixteen thousand Albanian and Turkish troops. 
 
 Doubt and perplexity were evident on the faces of all. 
 Never was the situation of Greece more critical. Mavro- 
 cordatos and Colocotronis were at variance. Ypsilantis, 
 wearied by the intrigues of his rivals, appeared indifferent. 
 The admirals of Hydra were openly contending with the 
 government. Odysseus and Gouras were trying to establish 
 a dictatorship in eastern Greece. Kara'iskakis, already dis- 
 tinguished for his strategic skill and valor, was dangerously 
 sick. 
 
 Botsaris twisted his moustache, listened, turned his eyes 
 toward each, but did not utter a word. 
 
 Thrasyboulos also was plunged in profound silence. He 
 reflected that, while the unhappy nation hung on the brink 
 of the abyss, the hoplarchs in the Corycian Cave were not 
 only scheming for the loan, but planned to demand the very 
 cannon of Misolonghi for their own defence. 
 
 "Brothers," said Botsaris, "we must stop the march 
 of the enemy at the pass of Callidrome. Let us not 
 expect from such a government as ours help in saving 
 Misolonghi." 
 
 "We are not strong enough to advance to Callidrome, " 
 whispered several. 
 
 " Five hundred real pallikaris are enough." 
 
 In silence all looked at each other for a long time. The 
 dauntless Botsaris rose and showed his commission as com- 
 mander-in-chief. He kissed it, and then tore it in fragments. 
 
The Fortunate Meeting 273 
 
 Afterwards he said, " Whoever here is a true patriot, let 
 hiin follow me to the camp of the Scodra Pasha." 
 
 Thus he expressed his firm resolve to attack with his 
 small baud of Suliots the multitudiuous host of the pasha 
 and strike it down. 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE FORTUNATE MEETING 
 
 What Alexander was to Julius Caesar, that Markos 
 Botsaris was to the imagination of Thrasyboulos. " At my 
 age he had done so much, and I have done nothing," the 
 future dictator of Rome exclaimed on seeing at Gadeira 
 the statue of the Macedonian king. 
 
 Thrasyboulos had become thoroughly acquainted with the 
 hero during the unfortunate expedition of Peta. He felt a 
 strong affection for him, and would never have left his side 
 had he not been compelled to go in quest of Andronike. 
 
 Hearing his firm resolve, he approached and said, " I too 
 will follow you, general." 
 
 Botsaris embraced him, and then signed to his brother 
 to approach. " Remain at Misolonghi and get together as 
 many soldiers as possible, so as to form a reserve force in 
 case of our defeat." 
 
 Konstantinos looked at him fixedly, and promised by a 
 nod. His whole heart was moved at the daring resolution 
 of his brother. 
 
 The leader and his three hundred Suliots were to meet 
 at the ruins of Pleuron, called to-day the Castle of Kyria 
 Irene, one hour north of Misolonghi. 
 
 Half an hour before dawn, Thrasyboulos reached the spot 
 and waited. Afterwards Botsaris arrived, accompanied by 
 his faithful Doussas and three other pallikaris. He was 
 dressed, as for a marriage, in new clothing. His long hair 
 was carefully braided, his moustache was curled and ending 
 in two long points, and his face clean shaven and shining 
 like his armor. 
 
 "All night long I dreamed of my wife Chryse and my 
 children," he said, laying down his gun and taking a seat 
 
 18 
 
274 Andronike 
 
 on a rock. " I did well to send them some time ago to 
 Ancona. Although I am poor, at least I am not afraid of 
 their again falling into the hands of the Turks. Thrasy- 
 boulos, you learned man, tell rne why they call this place 
 the Castle of Kyria Irene. Who was this Kyria Irene ? " 
 
 " Many other places of the Grecian mainland bear the same 
 name. I think it comes from the Thessalian Irene who 
 suffered a cruel martyrdom under the emperor Diocletian," 
 Thrasyboulos replied. 
 
 " Did you ever hear the tradition inhabitants of Miso- 
 longhi tell about these ruins ? They believe that there are 
 three chests here hidden in the ground, two of which con- 
 tain gold and the third serpents. From fear of the latter 
 they do not dare dig them up." 
 
 " If Scodra Pasha knew it, he would try to get possession 
 of Misolonghi as soon as possible, so as to find them." 
 
 " Do you have an idea how large the army of Scodra 
 Pasha really is ? " 
 
 " Some say twenty-five thousand, and others thirty thou- 
 sand j probably the largest and queerest army which has 
 ever moved against us. It is made up from all the Albanian 
 tribes, — Scodriots, Ghegs, Toxits, Giapytjis, and Catholic 
 Mirdites from Croia. They have already inundated Ne- 
 vropolis, and cannot be far away." 
 
 "Better let the game come into our hands than beat the 
 bush and shout to make it come out," said Botsaris, with 
 fire. "There come our pallikaris. They begin to show 
 themselves at daybreak." 
 
 The crests of Aracynthus were growing bright as the 
 Suliots assembled from all directions, in the slow and 
 heavy manner which characterizes them in time of peace. 
 Two hours later, on the eighth of August they began their 
 march toward the north of iEtolia. Four days afterwards 
 they reached the marshy pond of Ydrea which empties the 
 waters of Lake Trichonis into those of Lysimachia. 
 
 This lake is crossed by a long bridge of three hundred 
 and sixty-six arches, the construction of which the Mussul- 
 mans attribute to Souleiman, but the Greeks to the Normans. 
 They passed over it, and reached Souvolaca, a district whose 
 last Christian governor was John II, Duke of Patras. 
 
 " We must rest here an hour or two," said Botsaris, "for 
 I do not believe we are very far from the enemy." 
 
 "I never saw the sun seem so far below me," Thrasy- 
 
The Fortunate Meeting 275 
 
 boulos remarked, as he lingered on the summit. " One 
 would think that he is sitting in his palace." 
 
 This is the aerial part of Greece. Nature is here impres- 
 sive and full of variety. Majestic forests, poetic mountains, 
 turbulent streams, and magical landscapes in all native 
 picturesqueness stretch before one's eyes above and below. 
 
 " Who could be born among the mountains and nob love 
 them ! " Thrasyboulos exclaimed. " My native country is 
 rural Arcadia. It is no way inferior to what we see here. 
 What blessed days I passed there when I was young ! " 
 
 " Young ! How long have you been an old man ? " 
 
 " I am not an old man, but I have seen and suffered much 
 before now. Did I not witness the death of my uncle and 
 of so many bishops ? Did I not see the destruction of the 
 Sacred Legion ? Was I not imprisoned where the unfortu- 
 nate Ypsilantis is still confined ? " 
 
 " Were you also in the dungeon of Munkacs ? Did you 
 know Alexander Ypsilantis ? " 
 
 " Surely I knew him." 
 
 "W r hat kind of a man is he? Is he like his brother? 
 Is he obstinate in his decisions but pleasing in general in- 
 tercourse, like Mavrocordatos ? " 
 
 "He has many excellent traits, but he is somewhat heavy 
 and grave. He has the reserved air of the Russian court, 
 although not averse to flattery." 
 
 " Such men are right, brother, in being grave and differ- 
 ent from us," Botsaris replied. " They have travelled over 
 so much of the world, and have seen so many things. They 
 have studied in great schools, and have known and associ- 
 ated with great men. What comparison can there be 
 between them and us ? " 
 
 Thrasyboulos was surprised at these words, and looked at 
 him with perplexity. 
 
 " Why do you appear perplexed, friend ? I tell you the 
 truth, as I feel it. My soul is great as that mountain in 
 time of battle. Fear is something I never yet felt, but 
 what would you ? I am afflicted when I meet men who are 
 more learned than I. I am not jealous of them, but I envy 
 them, I love them, and I long to be with them." 
 
 " The other hoplarchs, Botsaris, do not talk so. The ele- 
 vation of your soul, the depth of your patriotism, and your 
 natural disposition fully compensate for what the universal 
 condition of the nation prevented your learning in books." 
 
276 Andronike 
 
 " How sorry I am that I could not say good-by to Mavro- 
 cordatos ! I love him as a dog loves his master. A man 
 who knows so much, belongs to so fine a family, and yet 
 so simple and companionable in everything, is a marvel. 
 With what patience and sweetness he explains what you 
 do not know ! He presents it in such a way that you under- 
 stand without being ashamed. But when the question is as 
 to crossing the mountains in the smoke of battle, you find 
 him there on a par with those who have been brought up 
 with the sword and the gun. I remember him at the siege 
 of Misolonghi. His example made us fight like lions." 
 
 They sat down a few moments for luncheon. Thra- 
 syboulos could not help wondering at Markos Botsaris. 
 He looked at him constantly whenever their eyes did not 
 meet. From his refined expression he reasoned what an 
 unequalled man the hero would have been if he had enjoyed 
 a little education. What a difference, he said to himself, 
 between him and the other hoplarchs ; courteous and seemly 
 in words and conduct, without jealousy or envy, his sole 
 desire the glory of his native country and the liberty of his 
 beloved Greece! 
 
 They were still eating, when the scouts brought in an 
 armatolos whom they had met near by. 
 
 "Who are you?" Botsaris asked him. 
 
 " An old armatolos from the Morea. I was with Kara'is- 
 kakis at Agrapha, when we fought with the Scodra Pasha, 
 and let him into the defiles, for our general was sick ; but 
 where are you going with so many pallikaris ? " 
 
 " Where is Karai'skakis ? " 
 
 " Over there a few hours from us. He is going to the 
 Monastery of Prousos, and from there to Phidari close by." 
 
 " How many thousand has the Scodra Pasha ? " 
 
 " Thirty thousand, they say." 
 
 Botsaris turned, and regarded his three hundred. A man 
 might well hesitate to march with so few against such a 
 host. 
 
 " Let us go against the pasha," he said with a laugh. 
 
 " Against the pasha ! Excuse me, captain, what is your 
 name ? " 
 
 " Markos Botsaris. Have you ever heard my name ? " 
 
 " Markos Botsaris ! Markos Botsaris ! " the old armatolos 
 exclaimed, taking off his fez, letting his long yellow hair 
 flow down, and folding his arms on his breast. 
 
The Traitor s Son 277 
 
 " What do you say ? Shall we eat up the thousands of 
 the Scodra Pasha ? " 
 
 "If all these pallikaris are like Botsaris, we will put 
 them all to the sword. Diakos, almost alone, came near 
 destroying the army of Omer Brione." 
 
 Botsaris heard these words with pleasure. He turned and 
 looked at his pallikaris with a smile, and in his simple way 
 asked, " How many years have you been an armatolos ? " 
 
 "I am a klept from a boy. I was with Colocotronis, 
 with Diakos, with Captain Andronikos, with Vouvoulina at 
 Tripoli tsa, and now with Karaiskakis." 
 
 " With Captain Andronikos ! " Thrasyboulos asked, with 
 a start. 
 
 "Yes, I was his proto-pallikari. He took us on wages, 
 ten pallikaris, and we went to Patras, and afterwards to 
 Zeitouni. There he learned the death of the patriarch and 
 of his brother. He was terribly cut up, and attacked the 
 Turks like a madman, and knocked them down until he 
 was killed. I myself was badly hurt while I was trying to 
 defend him, and how I am alive now I can't tell." 
 
 As the reader well understands, this man was the veteran 
 Lampros himself. Speedily Thrasyboulos gave him all the 
 information he could, terling him that his brother Andro- 
 nikos, although severely wounded, was still alive, but where 
 he did not know. 
 
 " Let me put my arms around you ! My master is alive ! 
 My sweet little master is alive ! " cried the veteran arma- 
 tolos, throwing himself with tears on the breast of Thra- 
 syboulos. " I shall keep close to you. With you I feel as 
 if I saw him again." 
 
 Prom that time Lampros remained attached to Thra- 
 syboulos. That same evening they all marched rapidly to 
 meet Karaiskakis, who was not very far from them. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 From Lampros Thrasyboulos learned all about Barthakas. 
 By the information derived from him as well as from Kyra 
 
 R , he was convinced that Barthakas had told him 
 
 nothing but lies about his betrothed. 
 
278 Andronike 
 
 The presence of Lampros opened the wounds of his heart 
 afresh. His relations with Botsaris had of late somewhat 
 comforted him for the perils, the hardships, and the sorrows 
 through which he had passed. Now, when once more he 
 confronted actual danger, he forgot his own situation, and 
 thought only of his cherished Andronike. Moreover, he 
 could form no idea why she assumed the dress of a man, 
 why she appeared to court danger, and where she had finally 
 gone. His head whirled with conjectures. 
 
 The army of Kara'iskakis, which they found near Car- 
 penesi, numbered six hundred men. Their commander, who 
 was grievously ill, had gone to the Monastery of Prousos. 
 After the Suliots joined them, it was decided bo attack the 
 Turks, who were encamped two hours distant in the vine- 
 yards and plain of Carpenesi, a mountainous village, diffi- 
 cult of access, inhabited by about a thousand Wallachian, 
 Albanian, and Mussulman families. It was built on the 
 cyclopean ruins of an ancient and once splendid city, which 
 had suffered fearful outrages from Brennus and the Gauls. 
 
 Next day they learned from the villagers that the van- 
 guard of the Scodra Pasha, commanded by his nephew, 
 Djeleleddin Bey, and comprising five thousand men, was 
 encamped at Carpenesi, and thafthe rest of the army were 
 coming up. They also learned that Omer Brione with fif- 
 teen thousand men was marching from Arta and Comvote 
 to effect his junction before Misolonghi, and that a fleet of 
 ninety Ottoman war-ships was to co-operate in the siege by 
 sea. 
 
 " This very night let us beat them," said Botsaris, at the 
 council of officers held on that tenth of August. 
 
 • We are only a few, and during the night the rest of the 
 enemy will come up," some of them said. 
 
 " Few though we are, we are Suliots ! I myself will die 
 here. I am resolved to pierce the tent of the pasha to-night 
 and cut off his head. If that terrible army which now 
 threatens Misolonghi, the Peloponnesus, our whole enter- 
 prise and our liberty, should once lose its commander, it 
 will not dare to advance farther." 
 
 " How can we without being seen reach the tent of the 
 commander, which must be in the very middle of the 
 camp ? " 
 
 " The Suliots will easily be taken for Albanians, and are 
 not the Turks against us Albanians ? " 
 
The Traitor s Son 279 
 
 The proposition of Botsaris appalled them all. They did 
 not open their lips, but only looked at each other. 
 
 " Is not my plan simple ? " asked Botsaris, with a 
 smile. 
 
 There was no Suliot who did not swear by his name. 
 All of them shouted with enthusiasm that they were 
 ready to follow him. It was resolved that the rest should 
 form two wings under Kitsos and the Tzavelse, and should 
 fall upon the enemy as soon as Botsaris had succeeded 
 in his attempt. 
 
 It was a custom of the Greeks, and especially of the 
 Suliots, whenever they were going out to battle, to take 
 a bath, comb their long hair down to their girdles, and 
 receive the communion. Two hours after noon Botsaris 
 and Thrasyboulos plunged into the crystal waters of the 
 torrent river of Carpenesi. 
 
 " Have you noticed one thing, Thrasyboulos ? " Botsaris 
 asked while he bathed. 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 "That everybody, even the generals of Peloponnesus and 
 of western Greece themselves, are panic-stricken at the 
 Scodra Pasha ? If we had not marched out to meet him, 
 he would have reached the walls of Misolonghi without 
 opposition." 
 
 " But his army is not small," said Thrasyboulos. " He 
 has at least fifteen thousand, and Omer Brione has. as many 
 more, and they have ninety war-ships besides. What are 
 our forces in comparison ? " 
 
 " Ah, Thrasyboulos ! I see that you yourself do not yet 
 know the Turk. The Turk crushed and enslaved the 
 Greek rather by terror than valor. Prom my boyhood I 
 have been in arms against him, and I have alone met one 
 Turk or two or more. I have fought him with sword, 
 pistols, and sometimes only with my hands. I do not say 
 it to boast ; but whenever I have met them on my own 
 ground I have made them run. Believe me, Thrasyboulos, 
 the Turk is an unmanly coward. Only because of our dis- 
 sensions has the Greek remained so long under his yoke. 
 His fanaticism has at times, although seldom, enabled him 
 to do something worthy of the attention of the world ; but 
 now his sun is setting, and neither Mohammed nor all his 
 devils will be able to give him life." 
 
 " I do not deny it. Our dissensions are the source of all 
 
280 Andronike 
 
 our misfortunes; but I fear that these same dissensions 
 will bring to nothing the work which we have begun." 
 
 " Thrasyboulos, God forbid ! That is my greatest afflic- 
 tion. I do not fear death, neither do I feel it near, for I 
 think that it is still far away. We leave behind us wife, 
 sisters, children, all we have in the world, for the single 
 purpose of making a fatherland, and of not wandering like 
 Jews in foreign countries ; and now to think of ruining it 
 all by dissension! We have defeated the enemy in many 
 battles and have half destroyed him, and now, when our 
 work is half accomplished, shall our dissensions bring it 
 all to nothing ? " 
 
 As Botsaris uttered these last words, the face of 
 Thrasyboulos grew sombre with gloomy thoughts. The 
 hero of Suli felt no shadow of that death which Thrasybou- 
 los deemed sure. The thought that he might quit the world 
 without ever again seeing Andronike unnerved him, and yet 
 he reddened with shame at the idea of retreating before the 
 murderers of his uncle. 
 
 They came out of the river, and began to dress. Botsaris, 
 light-hearted, careless, as if suddenly changed in character 
 and excited by strange enthusiasm, began in that silver 
 voice of his which was always remembered by whoever 
 heard it, to sing the following lines : — 
 
 " Bend not the knee, my boys ; 
 Slaves and subjects be ye not. 
 I am Photos, and alive ; 
 Nor Turkish master do I know. 
 The pasha's sword Photos has won, 
 And broke the gun of the vizir. 
 To foreign lands they drove him out 
 For help from all the slavish kings. 
 Botsaris ! Shame, black shame on thee, 
 And, Kitsonikas, shame on thee ! 
 The land once free you sold to chains 
 While Freedom's summer bloomed with flowers, 
 For Velis Pasha, brought by you, 
 O'er Kakosouli rules and reigns." 
 
 "Botsaris, what do you mean ?" exclaimed Thrasyboulos, 
 thunderstruck at these last lines. 
 
 "The truth, my friend," Botsaris replied, wiping the 
 tears which fell from his eyes. Then in a low, grave tone 
 he murmured : " Our dissensions, our dissensions ! Did you 
 
The Traitors Son 281 
 
 notice the last lines of my hymn ? There is not a Suliot 
 who does not know that hymn by heart. It is about my 
 father. Yes, it was my father, my father, who betrayed 
 Suli. That is why my brother Konstantinos and I seem 
 always gloomy. My soul will never cease to ache until I 
 succeed in doing something worthy of the great name of 
 our nation, and make all forget my father's crime." 
 
 "Do not reason that way, Botsaris. Your father be- 
 trayed the Suliots before the insurrection, when servitude 
 compelled men to pander to all the pleasures of the tyrants. 
 You have already washed away the stain by your victories 
 in many battles. Were you not the man who saved Miso- 
 longhi and Greece, and did not the nation therefore appoint 
 you its general ? " 
 
 "The stain is not washed away yet, my friend. Only it 
 will be to-night, perhaps, if I offer the fatherland my hum- 
 ble service and rout this terrible army which is marching 
 to submerge it. Then indeed my heart will be at peace, 
 and the mouths of the two Tzavelse will be closed." 
 
 " The Tzavelae do not talk against you. On the contrary." 
 
 " They do not talk with their mouths ; but their eyes, as 
 often as they meet mine, express all the hatred which made 
 my father a traitor and caused the loss of Suli." 
 
 " But was your father really a traitor ? I have heard so 
 from several, and yet I never believed it. Besides, although 
 it took place only twenty years ago, that part of our his- 
 tory is so confused that one can never easily learn the 
 truth." 
 
 " I will tell you about it. I never concealed it from any 
 one. Listen," said Botsaris, sitting down and combing his 
 long hair. 
 
 "Say on, Botsaris," said Thrasyboulos, listening with 
 attention. 
 
 "Famous Suli," Botsaris continued, "or Kakosuli, once 
 had only two principal men, Photos Tzavelas and my grand- 
 father, Georgios Botsaris. My grandfather was an old man, 
 universally respected and esteemed. He was the Minos of 
 the place. Photos was a young, lion-hearted, danger-loving 
 man. He was the Hercules of the Suliots. My grand- 
 father soon felt that this young man was becoming his 
 greatest rival, so he hated him. In return for twenty-five 
 thousand piastres, which Ali Pasha paid him, at the head 
 of his soldiers and kindred Georgios attacked Suli, hoping 
 
282 Andronike 
 
 to capture it for the tyrant. Fortunately he was defeated, 
 and from grief and remorse took poison and died. 
 
 " My father, Kitsos, and my uncle Notis were then at 
 Yanina, for my grandfather, when plotting his treason, had 
 placed his family for safety in the capital of Epirus. 
 
 "A desperate war ensued between Ali and the Suliots. 
 Our splendid successes can hardly be described. Finally, 
 we compelled the despot to end the war, and he sent 
 my father, Kitsos, to our mountains to offer the follow- 
 ing terms : first, Suli should remain free, but the vizir 
 should be permitted to build a tower which my father was 
 to hold with forty soldiers, so as to punish any one who 
 trespassed on the lands of the pasha ; second, Photos Tza- 
 velas should be exiled from Suli. 
 
 " The Suliots accepted the conditions, and the unfortunate 
 Photos was carried in chains to Yanina. 
 
 a Ali and my father had another plan, however. Both 
 had sworn the destruction of Suli. Soon Velis Pasha with 
 a large army suddenly appeared before it. My father, 
 Kitsos Botsaris I mean, joined the son of the despot and 
 turned his gun against our brothers. The more splendid 
 that episode is in the history of Greece, so much the more 
 shame in it for me ! " 
 
 " Do not weep, Botsaris. You are a different man. Do 
 not say that you are the son of Kitsos," Thrasyboulos cried, 
 wringing his hand. 
 
 "I cannot help weeping," Botsaris said, coming to himself. 
 "Now listen to this glorious story of my heroic but unhappy 
 country. There was then in Suli a monk, named Samuel, 
 an interpreter of dreams and a sort of prophet, for in his 
 hands he had always the Gospels and the book of Revelation, 
 and he explained passages just as it suited him, so he was 
 called The Last Appearance. He commanded the Suliots so 
 gallantly that Ali Pasha surnamed him Son of Saint Basil, 
 and the Turks called him Antichrist, that is the second pro- 
 phet whom they expect. Samuel fortified himself on the hill 
 of Saint Paraskeve, and obstinately resisted Velis Pasha. 
 
 " After Velis Pasha had mastered Suli, and the Suliots 
 had agreed to give hostages and leave their mountains, he 
 sent his secretary and some other deputies to take from 
 Samuel the provisions and arms he had collected there. 
 'Escape,' said the monk to my father. < The vizir now 
 wants to kill you traitors first ! ' 
 
The Traitors Son 283 
 
 " < What punishment, monk, , the secretary said, l after the 
 vizir lays his hand on you, do you think he will give you 
 for what you have done ? ' 
 
 " < The vizir is not able to take a man who is not afraid 
 of him,' he replied. He uttered these words, set fire to the 
 powder magazine, and blew himself up and all the Turks 
 who were near. 
 
 " The anger of Ali Pasha indeed soon turned against my 
 father. I was a boy, and I remember the curses which he 
 called down upon himself for what he had done. Repen- 
 tance came but too late. The armies of the vizir pursued us. 
 We were few, but we began the war. The boys and the 
 women loaded the guns. Our family, with our relatives 
 and a few soldiers, formed our army. We had no cannon. 
 At last we lacked food and water. Our position was 
 utterly desperate." 
 
 " I understand now, Botsaris, how you are so brave, ex- 
 posed in childhood to such dangers." 
 
 "Picture to yourself some of those horrible moments 
 which make a thirst for revenge burn in my heart. Sixty 
 women, who were unable any longer to keep up with us, 
 resolved to hurl themselves down the precipices rather than 
 fall into the hands of the inhuman monsters who pursued 
 them. Pirst the wretched mothers pushed their children 
 over into the abyss. Then they twined their hair with 
 garlands, took hold of each other's hands, and, dancing the 
 Albanian dance, one after another threw themselves over. 
 Not a moan or word or sound was heard from their mouths. 
 With dry eyes and in convulsive silence, kneeling down, we 
 held our hands stretched out toward heaven. Two hours 
 afterwards in the darkness of night we cut our way, sword 
 in hand, right through the Turks. Some of us fell, others 
 were taken prisoners, and only a few escaped unhurt." 
 
 Botsaris rose, wiped the perspiration from his face, and 
 remained some minutes silent. 
 
 " It is the most thrilling story I ever heard," said Thra- 
 syboulos, in a low tone. 
 
 " Without lingering longer on these details, which consti- 
 tute an entire history of their own, I will add only that 
 the few surviving Suliots after many other battles finally 
 forced their way to the Ionian Islands, which were then 
 under the rule of Russia. There they found refuge and 
 consolation. 
 
284 Andronike 
 
 " We formed the so-called Albanian phalanx. My father 
 and my still surviving uncle Notis were its commanders. 
 The Ionian Islands soon passed to the French. Them too 
 we served, and many a field will never forget the Suliots. 
 But, my friend, in losing our mountains we had lost every- 
 thing. That life did not please us. We were unhappy, — 
 I especially, who was called 'the Traitor's Son.' 
 
 (t What bitter moments I passed, always ashamed of my 
 very shadow ! From Corfu, opposite, I could see our cloud- 
 capped mountains, and I shed many a tear. In 1813 I also 
 lost my father. The unhappy man died, according to Ali 
 Pasha's order, by the hand of the assassin Gogos, that same 
 Gogos who betrayed us at the battle of Peta. 
 
 " I was wretched, Thrasyboulos. I found rest nowhere. 
 Night and day I thought of nothing except how I might 
 wash away the stain of dishonor. I the son of a traitor ! 
 Oh, what an eternal spectre ! A situation without a hope ! 
 I could devise no means of blotting out my burning disgrace 
 except by restoring to the Suliots that Suli of which the 
 author of my days had deprived them. 
 
 " My breast derived some comfort from this dream. Life 
 began to have a meaning. As 1 revelled in this purpose, all 
 the torn chords of my heart found a secret alleviation. 
 Wings seemed carrying me to Suli. 
 
 " One day, together with the Himariots who had deserted 
 the King of Naples, I entered Epirus. 
 
 "That time is not long ago. Almost two years before 
 the beginning of our present struggle, the sultan, at last 
 understanding the ambitious designs of Ali Pasha, de- 
 spatched Pascho Bey to subdue him. 
 
 " To this Pascho Bey I offered my services and those of 
 the Suliots if he would give us back our precipices and 
 Suli. He laughed at us, and rejected the proposition. 
 The aged Ali Pasha learned our action, and immediately 
 sent me messengers. He promised us both Suli and money 
 and cannon and pay. 
 
 "But who believed him, or rather who of us Suliots 
 believed him ! I demanded hostages, and the vizir gave me 
 the boy, his beloved Houssein Pasha, together with his 
 tutor Mourtos Zalis, a man greatly honored by the Suliots, 
 and ten other hostages. In exchange I surrendered to the 
 vizir as hostages my wife Chryse, my two sons, my sister 
 Angelike, and my brother Konstantinos. Thrasyboulos, do 
 
The Traitors Son 285 
 
 you see at what a price I purchased back those sharp rocks 
 which they call Suli ? " 
 
 " Botsaris, how you warm my soul ! How did this action 
 of yours strike the Suliots ? " 
 
 " How did it strike them ! They raised me to the clouds. 
 I myself saw old men with hoary hair fall down to worship 
 me. Such a great sacrifice forced my own private enemies 
 to admiration. At last we began the war; we mastered 
 Pente Pegadia, we scourged the haughty Pascho Bey, and 
 lashed his successor Chourshid. During three whole years 
 we alone sustained the Lion of Pindus. If he had not been 
 avaricious, suspicious, and always a perjurer, we would have 
 placed him on the throne of the sultan himself. You know 
 the rest. The wretch became so desirous of life that he 
 forgot his active and historic past. He was affrighted by 
 always seeing before him the phantoms of the many he had 
 murdered. He put more confidence in Chourshid than in 
 the Suliots. He sought his pardon from the sultan, and the 
 sultan sent him death instead. 
 
 " My brother, my wife, my children, and the others fell 
 into the hands of the conquerors, and would perhaps have 
 been slaughtered if fortunately the harem of Chourshid at 
 Tripolitsa had not come into our possession. 
 
 " Chourshid then turned his troops against Suli, but the 
 times had changed. We no longer cared so much for our 
 mountains, because to all the ends of Greece men were 
 fighting for liberty. We all cherished the same design ; so 
 we left Suli and descended to Misolonghi. 
 
 "From all I have told you, Thrasyboulos, you see that 
 this night is my expiation. The two Tzavelse who command 
 the wings of our little army, are the descendants of Photos 
 Tzavelas. They regard me as only the descendant of 
 Georgios and Kitsos Botsaris. I shall stop their mouths 
 forever if to-night I save Greece. If I die, it will be the 
 death I have always dreamed." 
 
 " Shall we go back ? Night is coming," Thrasyboulos 
 asked after a long pause, and arose. 
 
 "And it will be followed by a brilliant day," Botsaris 
 replied gayly. 
 
286 Andronike 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 a soldier's funeral 
 
 Five o'clock in the afternoon was the hour fixed upon 
 for starting against the Turks. The watchword was 
 " Stournaris," and the enemy was only two hours away. 
 
 " The others don't seem to come. Where are the others ? " 
 Botsaris asked. 
 
 " At exactly five we were all to meet here. It is now 
 quarter past," Thrasyboulos answered. 
 
 " Forward, then ! Anybody who wants to fight will not 
 be the last to get here." The eagle of Suli started, and 
 his three hundred and fifty Suliots followed singing. 
 
 " Captain, I shall keep very close to you," said Lampros 
 to Thrasyboulos, approaching him humbly. 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 "To protect you ; just as I did with your brother down 
 there at Zeitouni, always fighting close to his side." 
 
 Thrasyboulos with his clear eye looked at the aged arma- 
 tolos, and granted his request. 
 
 It was already dark. Night had veiled the sky. No 
 sound was heard except the leaves rustling, the brooks 
 murmuring, and the wind blowing. Their Albanian foes, 
 after rapine and pillage, were buried in profound sleep. 
 
 Botsaris pulled down his cap over his eyebrows, and bade 
 his men spread out as he approached the outposts of the 
 enemies of the cross. 
 
 "Where is the pasha's tent?" he asked the first sen- 
 tinel, in Albanian. The sentinel was about to fire and 
 call to arms, when Botsaris prevented him. " What 
 are you doing, brother ? Don't you know us ? We are 
 Albanians." 
 
 " Who are you ? " 
 
 "The advance guard of Omer Brione. We have come 
 from Arta and Comvote. Three hundred and fifty of us 
 have hurried to help you against the giaours. They are 
 coming by thousands from Misolonghi. Where is the 
 pasha's tent ? Quick ! I have important messages for 
 him." 
 
 " Over there on the right beyond the third ditch." 
 
A Soldiers Funeral 287 
 
 Meanwhile the other sentinels approached. The Suliots 
 quickly surrounded them, and, before the trick was discov- 
 ered, struck them down with their yataghans. 
 
 The same stratagem opened their way as far as the third 
 ditch. 
 
 "That is the pasha's tent, my pallikaris," whispered 
 Botsaris, on reaching that of Djeleleddin Bey. '-'These 
 fellows belong to me. Let no one else touch them." 
 Shrieking the wild yell habitual to the Suliots at the 
 moment of attack, he rushed into the tent like a hawk 
 darting upon its prey. Thrasyboulos and ten others pressed 
 close upon his heels. 
 
 It was lighted only by night-lamps, but in their glimmer 
 they recognized the officers of the Scodra Pasha, reposing 
 on luxurious couches on the ground. Instantly they dis- 
 charged their guns and pistols upon them, and then drew 
 their swords. 
 
 All the mountaineers fired as soon as they heard the 
 shots of Botsaris, and in five minutes' time the whole Turkish 
 camp was converted into a reeking place of slaughter. 
 
 Members of Albanian tribes whose clothing and language 
 were the same as the Suliots', the Turkish soldiers turned 
 their arms against each other. The Skipetari aimed at the 
 Toxits, the Toxits shot the Mirdites, the Mirdites slew 
 the Scodraots, and meanwhile the Suliots carried death to 
 all the peoples of Albania, and remained themselves un- 
 recognized and unharmed, thanks to their watchword 
 "Stournaris." 
 
 The hand of Botsaris was a sickle of death. After 
 Djeleleddin Bey and his officers had been slain, he threw 
 himself on the barbarians outside the tent. On what an 
 eternal sleep the army of the Scodra Pasha would have 
 entered that night if the other Greeks had ventured to 
 imitate the intrepid Botsaris ! 
 
 " I am wounded," Botsaris murmured. 
 
 The nephew of the patriarch at his side was striking 
 blows as ferocious as a Koman gladiator. His feet were 
 treading on the slain whom he had forced to bite the dust, 
 when he heard the words of Botsaris. " Let us withdraw 
 then, Botsaris. Only a few still remain." 
 
 " It is not time yet. My wound is slight. When shall 
 we ever have another such night ? " 
 
 " Forward, then, general ! " Thrasyboulos whispered. 
 
288 Andronike 
 
 " What mistake is this ? There is some mistake/ 7 many 
 of the Toxits were heard saying. 
 
 "No! There is no mistake. It is Markos Botsaris ! It 
 is Botsaris I Tremble, you cowards ! " screamed the eagle 
 of Suli, in his enthusiasm. 
 
 " Hush, Botsaris ! This is madness ! " These last words 
 of Thrasyboulos were drowned in the roar of guns discharged 
 at them. 
 
 " Oh, I am struck ! " Botsaris fell into the arms of 
 Thrasyboulos, who was himself hit in the thigh. The 
 chieftain had received a mortal wound. The leaden ball 
 had struck him in the forehead, and death was placing on 
 his brow an immortal crown. 
 
 " Here, Lampros, here ! " 
 
 " Here I am, captain, 77 the veteran replied, receiving the 
 body of Botsaris in his faithful arms. 
 
 Thrasyboulos sat down a moment to bind up his wound, 
 at the same time often shouting the word i: Stournaris. 77 
 
 The Suliots gathered around their dying leader. " Have 
 we beaten ? It is time to stop. I am dying. 77 He passed 
 away like Leonidas, or rather, he met a better, a more 
 cheerful death, like that of Epaminondas after Mantinea, 
 exulting in his victory. 
 
 His cousin Doussas came, and he and Lampros lifted him 
 up. Then they began the retreat. The news that the 
 dreaded Botsaris was dead spread like lightning among 
 the Turks. The Albanians in a mass fell upon the retreat- 
 ing Suliots, disputing the body of their commander. The 
 conflict was brief but obstinate. Finally at daybreak the 
 Greeks with joy saw themselves once more far from the 
 Turkish camp. 
 
 After a few days they re-entered Misolonghi, bringing 
 the remains of the greatest hero of modern Greece. With 
 him they brought as trophies sixteen hundred guns and 
 pistols, and droves of horses, mules, and sheep, taken from 
 the enemy. 
 
 They buried him near Kyriacoulis and Norman in the 
 midst of national lamentation, and inscribed the following 
 epitaph upon his tomb: — 
 
 " Sleep, Leonidas : 
 Markos Botsaris triumphs \ 
 His victories everywhere 
 >. Are spread by fame. 
 
A Soldiers Funeral 289 
 
 Botsaris, this is thy monument. 
 
 If thou openest thine eye, 
 
 Call out with a mighty voice, 
 
 * Europe. Greece, although still enslaved 
 
 And crushed with barbarism, 
 
 Nevertheless possesses many 
 
 Sons better than I.' " 
 
 His brother Konstantinos succeeded him in the command. 
 
 After such a disastrous defeat of his advance guard, the 
 Scodra Pasha was a long time in doubt whether he should 
 continue his expedition against Misolonghi. That so small 
 a number should dare seek him in his tent was a lesson 
 which in a few words taught him with whom he had to 
 fight. 
 
 At last, to please the sultan and content his soldiers, who 
 were eager to wash out the stain of Carpenesi, he descended 
 upon Misolonghi, after having effected a junction with the 
 other detachments of his army. 
 
 The world knows the results of this second siege. After 
 covering the city with clouds of cannon-balls and missiles 
 of every sort, and after hurling upon it more than two 
 thousand bombs, at the end of a three months' siege the 
 repeated sallies of the Greeks, pestilence, and the cold of 
 winter compelled him to get together the suffering remnants 
 of his army and return to his pashalik in the mountains. 
 
 The Divan was unable the following summer, despite the 
 most flattering propositions, to persuade this pasha to 
 repeat his expedition. Misolonghi became to the Mussul- 
 mans a fabulous cave within which dwelt the dragons and 
 monsters of the Mussulman inferno. Whenever they spoke 
 of it, they spoke with fright. 
 
 Meanwhile the city passed golden and resplendent days. 
 From every direction people crowded there to live. No 
 dwelling-place delights a man so much as some locality 
 whose heroism has consecrated it. Especially does he 
 rejoice at building his house from the stone and iron which 
 the enemy has employed in vain for its destruction. 
 
 Cheerfulness, movement, and animation made the town 
 gay as with a constant festival, above all when toward the 
 beginning of 1824 Lord Byron arrived. 
 
 19 
 
BOOK IV 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE SLAVE MARKET 
 
 There is an extensive quarter of Constantinople called 
 Yesir Bazar, or the Slave Market. It is a place of huge- 
 limbed trees and marble fountains. Here and there are 
 rows of rooms resembling monastic cells, but provided 
 with latticed doors. Thither the Turks used to carry for 
 sale the women and children whom the fortune of war had 
 delivered into their hands. Mussulman luxury and lust 
 there found abundant means for full satiety. 
 
 One might watch strings of asses coming into the en- 
 closure, laden with baskets into which children had been 
 thrust like lambs. There too at the fountains he might 
 see the dealers washing beautiful but sobbing Greek girls 
 and comely boys. The lamentations or apathy of the 
 victims excited pity or aversion, but the scene was one of 
 variety. The quaint robe of Scio, the tasteful dress of 
 Smyrna, the peculiar costumes of Mytilene, Samos, Crete, 
 Patmos, and of almost every island in the iEgean Sea, of 
 Asia Minor, Macedonia, and the Danubian provinces, were 
 crowded together with bewildering confusion in this 
 human market. Beings made in the image of God were 
 sold cheaper than four-footed beasts. 
 
 With stately stride the pampered Mussulman wandered 
 through the well-stocked shambles. With languid eyes 
 he sought to select the maiden or boy who most pleased 
 his fancy. Often the purchaser required not only beauty 
 but high descent. So he would ask the slave dealer 
 where he obtained some fair one, and then who she was 
 and who her parents were. At the same time he was 
 allowed to examine her minutely, so as to be sure whether 
 the human article was sound or defective. 
 
 While all these things took place, philanthropy seemed 
 indifferent and civilization asleep. 
 
The Slave Market 291 
 
 Writers have described those games of Trajan, which 
 lasted three weeks, during which eleven thousand men 
 were sacrificed. We have read of that banquet of Vitellius 
 for which were provided twenty thousand nightingales' 
 tongues and the brains of peacocks and pheasants. We 
 have heard of the baths of Caligula in wine and myrrh, 
 and of the fish-ponds, menageries, and theatres of the 
 Romans, in which the bestiality of man reached its 
 highest pitch, and in which moral corruption became most 
 profound. 
 
 Can we recall these deeds of the Roman Empire without 
 fright and aversion ? Yet enlightened and Christian 
 Europe, which hastens to India to rescue the widow from 
 her husband's funeral pyre, and journeys to Africa or 
 America to repress cannibalism and the slave trade, and 
 travels toward the pole to bestow the gospel on the 
 Esquimaux, then looked on and was indifferent to the 
 enormities perpetrated on its soil under its very eyes! 
 These enormities were of another nature indeed from those 
 of the Romans, but in a Christian age less easy to pal- 
 liate. How strange the practical civilization of to-day ! 
 
 Let us enter that market-place where the wives and 
 children of the champions of freedom were publicly sold 
 like cattle, and where every morning the dealers were 
 accustomed to expose their merchandise to the open air 
 that the rays of the sun might give it color. 
 
 One day about ten o'clock a somewhat corpulent man 
 with a fine and pleasing face, a milky complexion, and 
 black moustache and eyebrows, entered the large enclos- 
 ure, and approached a little white-bearded man, who held 
 a pipe and was playing with his string of beads. 
 
 "Good-morning, Hadji Mousa," he said. 
 
 "Good-morning to you, efferuli," the old man replied. 
 After exchanging the customary salaam, he offered his 
 visitor a seat and a pipe. 
 
 "Are these all you have? " the stranger inquired, casting 
 a scrutinizing glance over the row of women and children, 
 who sat on carpets spread on the ground in front of the 
 porches in the slaves' quarter. 
 
 "Do they seem few to you, effendi ? Altogether there 
 are about eighty here. They represent a money value of 
 two hundred thousand piastres." 
 
 " You have no others than these ? " 
 
292 Andronike 
 
 "No, effendi." 
 
 " I told you yesterday that I wanted a most beautiful 
 girl as a present for Arnaout Pasha." 
 
 "I am sure, effendi, that among these you will find 
 more than one to your taste." 
 
 "That is just what troubles me. The one to my taste 
 may not please him to whom I shall give her." 
 
 "A real rose, effendi, exhales the same fragrance for 
 all." 
 
 " Tell me the truth, Hadji Mousa. Who in this market 
 has the finest women ? " 
 
 " I believe nobody has finer than I. I spent a good deal 
 to get all these articles. I was the only one to hurry 
 where our believers had conquered, and I bought these 
 slaves with an open purse. The children of the best 
 giaours are here. Here you will find all the flowers which 
 Scio, Smyrna, Kydonia, — those gardens of our ^gean 
 Sea, — have produced. Do not think that I am trying to 
 persuade you to buy of me and of nobody else. No, 
 effendi. Make your rounds among all the thousands whom 
 you see in this great enclosure, and if you find one equal 
 to mine, I will give you the most beautiful one I have." 
 
 "You have a tongue which trickles milk, Hadji Mousa. 
 All right. Let us examine your slaves, and perhaps by 
 good luck we may find one." 
 
 This would-be purchaser was an Armenian called 
 Berikoglou. He was the chief banker of the Turkish 
 aristocracy. Accompanied by Hadji Mousa, smoking and 
 smiling, he inspected that file of wretched Greek women. 
 
 The poor creatures were generally sullen and silent, 
 enduring their humiliation with forced stoicism, and yet 
 sometimes they joked each other with meaning phrases. 
 
 "Truly, Hadji Mousa, flattery aside, you have some 
 fine specimens," the banker murmured two or three times 
 during his inspection. 
 
 "Not only as to beauty, but as to race, effendi. I told 
 you that I had collected here everything excellent among 
 the Greeks." 
 
 "And do you know the ancestry of each ?" 
 
 " I know it. I always take pains to learn it and write 
 it down before I buy." 
 
 " Have you sold many so far ? " 
 
 "Only a few. My prices are high, and everybody will 
 
The Slave Market 293 
 
 not pay them. Then too I do not sell to everybody. One 
 must be at least a pasha of two tails to be my customer." 
 
 "Why? Besides, I am not a pasha!" 
 
 " Why ? Because, when they make a bargain I gain 
 more. Many women rise from the position of slave to 
 that of wife. Not a few rule some pasha and lead him 
 by the nose. They have influence, wealth, and position, 
 and so they never forget the man who has put them in a 
 good place. You understand that my gains then are 
 doubled. As to yourself, you are richer than a pasha, 
 and you want to buy, not for yourself, but for the new 
 pasha, whose banker you have just become," said the 
 hadji, with a significant look at the Armenian. 
 
 "You have an eye to the main chance; you are very 
 skilful in your profession) " the banker remarked with 
 satisfaction. 
 
 " Fifty-four years I have been a slave merchant, and I 
 ought to know my business. I began in the other insur- 
 rection in our year 1187 [a. d. 1769], and then I gained 
 immense wealth. I married my fifteen daughters and 
 seven sons, and gave to each a big sum. Business was 
 fine in those golden days. We brought the women and 
 children by crowds to market. The Albanian for a rouble 
 would sell you a mother and four children. Now, 
 effendi, times are changed completely. The giaours 
 themselves are fighting like devils, and one can't easily 
 get the meat from their teeth." 
 
 "That's a pretty girl," cried the banker, as he stopped 
 in front of a magnificent slave. 
 
 "Pretty! She is the most beautiful I have. By the 
 turban of Omar, I doubt if there is a better one in the 
 harem of the sultan." 
 
 " What is her price ? " 
 
 "Twenty thousand piastres, effendi." 
 
 "Twenty thousand! What a fearful price, Hadji 
 Mousa! Come down a little, come down." 
 
 "Not a para less, effendi." 
 
 "But with twenty thousand piastres I can buy a farm." 
 
 "Yes, but not a queen." 
 
 "My dear fellow, don't brag about your goods. How 
 old are you?" he asked, turning to the young woman. 
 
 "She is very young," the slave dealer interposed. 
 
 "Where are you from?" 
 
294 Andronike 
 
 "She is a Sciot, from one of the first families of Scio," 
 said the merchant. 
 
 "What is your name? Won't you answer? Don't you 
 know that you must have a little better manners if you 
 want ever to get out of this place? What are you looking 
 so cross at?" 
 
 " She was a very great lady. She is not looking cross, 
 but she is proud," Hadji Mousa said to him in a low tone. 
 
 "How old are you?" the banker asked again. 
 
 The young woman, who was no other than the unfortu- 
 nate Andronike, kept a mournful silence, gave a deep 
 groan, and lowered her head on her breast. 
 
 "You want twenty thousand piastres for that animal! 
 You won't get them, my friend, nor even two thousand 
 piastres. She is beautiful, but she does not know enough 
 to say ' boo ' ! " 
 
 "You are mistaken, effendi. She does not want to 
 speak. She is not only the most beautiful one I have, 
 but also the most intelligent." 
 
 "Will you let me have her for five thousand piastres?" 
 
 "Effendi! Not for nineteen thousand nine hundred 
 and ninety-nine." 
 
 " What is your name ? Do you want me to buy you ? 
 Won't you speak ? I told you, my hadji, that she is an 
 animal," the Armenian repeated, angrily turning to the 
 dealer. 
 
 The slave merchant smiled. 
 
 " Which of us two is an animal, — I, who by force was 
 dragged into this position, or you, who think of throwing 
 so much money away for a woman who despises you ! " 
 cried Andronike, for a moment losing all self-control. 
 
 "Be quiet! Don't insult the gentleman! Look out!" 
 and Hadji Mousa raised his pipe as if to strike her over 
 the head. The eyes of Andronike flashed fire at the 
 insult. She looked fixedly at her master, and bit her 
 lips to keep silent. 
 
 The banker, astounded at the spirit of the slave, at 
 once took the dealer aside and asked detailed information. 
 Hadji Mousa opened a bulky volume in which was briefly 
 written down a record of every woman who in the space of 
 fifty-four years had passed through his hands. He began 
 to read: "Avgerine. Oldest daughter of the wholesale 
 merchant Con. Argentis, established in Venice. Betrothed 
 
The Slave Market . 295 
 
 to Ste. Rhodocanachis, wholesale merchant at Marseilles. 
 Twenty years and four months. Perfect health. No 
 bodily defect. Highly educated and many accomplish- 
 ments. Fully worth twenty thousand piastres." 
 
 " Is she the daughter of Argentis at Venice ? Where do 
 you get this information?" 
 
 " From Scio. From the man who sold her to me. He 
 belonged to the island, and knew all the families, and 
 was the first to get possession of the more striking and 
 beautiful articles." 
 
 The banker reflected. 
 
 "Buy her, effendi, and don't hesitate. Keep her a 
 few months, and when you get tired of her write to her 
 relatives. They will pay whatever you please for her 
 ransom. Don't you understand ?" 
 
 " This woman does not have the Sciot pronunciation," 
 observed the Armenian. 
 
 "No," Mousa replied; "for she was brought up in 
 France. That must persuade you that she is not an 
 animal. She has a fine mind and good manners. She is 
 not an animal, effendi." 
 
 " Let her walk a little. I want to observe her height 
 better." 
 
 "She shall do so, effendi." 
 
 Then the dealer ordered Andronike to stand up. Throw- 
 ing over her a red Tunisian burnoose, he took her out 
 into the vestibule, holding her by a rope which was 
 fastened to her girdle. 
 
 The pitiable girl resembled Zenobia, the queen of 
 Palmyra, whom Aurelian obliged to walk before him 
 loaded with chains. 
 
 "All right! She is mine," cried the banker. "Bring 
 her to my house to-night." 
 
 "I will not fail. I thank you. May she please you," 
 said Hadji Mousa. "I am sure that you will always 
 boast of your bargain." 
 
 Smiling amiably and toying with his string of beads, 
 the Armenian quitted the slave market. 
 
296 . Andronike 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 EVENING DIVERSIONS 
 
 Andronike had been captured on board a Greek vessel 
 that was bound from Scio to Hydra, and had as passengers 
 about thirty families, relics of the great catastrophe. The 
 vessel was overpowered by a Turkish frigate, which was 
 already loaded with women and children who had been 
 seized in the different islands. 
 
 On the deck of this frigate was Hadji Mousa, who had 
 bought a great number of slaves from Scio. 
 
 Struck by the beauty of Andronike, he paid two thou- 
 sand piastres to the officer into whose hands her fortune 
 had cast her, and also gave in exchange another young 
 woman from Scio, named Avgerine, who belonged to the 
 well-known Argentis family. He gave the name Avgerine 
 to his new purchase, as she refused to tell him her own 
 or anything about her family, and, to increase her value, 
 said she was the daughter of the rich Argentis of Venice. 
 
 After her sale became known to her companions in the 
 slave market, they congratulated her at her deliverance 
 from that place of torment, and because she had come 
 into the possession of a Christian. Andronike answered 
 only by a melancholy smile, and a wish that each might 
 meet a better fate than her own. 
 
 What could she do ? In dire extremity resolution is 
 the last refuge of noble souls, patience and endurance 
 their comfort, and trust in divine Providence all their 
 future. The wisest course is to talk little and constantly 
 to plan for better days. 
 
 Andronike had, however, two other great comforts. 
 One was that in her clothing next her person she had 
 succeeded in hiding the diamonds of Kara Ali. She was 
 decked in them when she threw herself into the sea. As 
 they were very valuable, she hoped by their means to 
 escape. The other comfort was a little dagger, with 
 which she might end her days if dishonor should threaten. 
 
 The house of the Armenian Hohannes Berikoglou was 
 at Kouroutcheshmeh, a village on the European side of 
 the Bosphorus. 
 
Evening Diversions 297 
 
 It was a spacious mansion, richly furnished and sur- 
 rounded by flower-gardens. Objects of Turkish, Armenian, 
 and European elegance, got together pell-mell in the 
 house, in the general confusion presented nothing worthy 
 of special attention. 
 
 The banker was unmarried, and now, when age had 
 succeeded a profligate youth, he cared only for gambling 
 and making money. 
 
 It was already evening when he returned home. Soon 
 several other Armenians and a few young men belonging 
 to Catholic families at Pera, among them all the best 
 card-players of the capital, began to assemble. 
 
 In a few minutes clouds of smoke from their pipes 
 filled the room where they sat, and the servants brought 
 in coffee and sweets. 
 
 Before the faro, the banker commenced with gusto to 
 tell all about his beautiful bargain of that day. The 
 eyes of the listeners sparkled with excitement and curios- 
 ity at his amorous description. At that moment there 
 was a knock at the door, and the first accountant of the 
 banker came in. 
 
 He was no other than Luigi Casteli, whose acquaintance 
 we made at Scio. 
 
 "Qu'est que c'est, Monsieur Louis? " Berikoglou asked 
 in French, a language which the Armenians greatly 
 affect. 
 
 "C'est que after you left the office this morning a mes- 
 sage came from Arnaout Pasha, praying you not to sell 
 the diamond casket, for a jeweller in the bezestan to-day 
 offers him a much higher price." 
 
 "Heavens! I have already disposed of it to Fatima 
 Sultana," cried the banker, stamping his foot. 
 
 " L'affaire est un peu troublee," said Casteli. 
 
 "Vous savez que faire, Monsieur Louis. Go instantly 
 to the palace of his Excellency and explain the circum- 
 stances." 
 
 "Tresbien, monsieur." 
 
 "Listen, Monsieur Louis, Say to him en passant that 
 I intended to visit him myself to-morrow in order to bring 
 him a very beautiful slave whom I purchased for him 
 to-day at Yesir Bazar." 
 
 "Tres bien," Casteli replied again, and, saluting the 
 company to the ground, he went out. 
 
298 Andronike 
 
 "Who is this Arnaout Pasha who is making so much 
 stir in Constantinople at present ? " one of the company 
 inquired. 
 
 "He is the bosom friend of Chourshid Pasha, vizir of 
 Epirus and the Morea," Berikoglou replied. "He was 
 sent from Yanina in charge of the treasures of the accursed 
 Ali Pasha of Tepelen. He has innumerable diamonds. I 
 think," he added expressively, "that he is one of the 
 people who had his share in them." 
 
 " Is he a very old man ? " another asked. 
 
 "No. Forty-four or forty- five perhaps. A rather small 
 man, somewhat hunchbacked, but he is very rich, and 
 speaks three or four languages." 
 
 " Three or four languages ! A Turk and speak three or 
 four languages! " cried all the Armenians at once, together. 
 
 "In fact it is a miracle, but he speaks them," said the 
 banker. 
 
 This conversation was interrupted by Hadji Mousa, who 
 arrived, bringing Andronike to the banker. 
 
 "Oh! oh! Now let us see the beautiful lady," some- 
 body cried. 
 
 Hadji Mousa had caused her to be dressed with some 
 elegance. Since her present position of slave in a palace 
 was considered a promotion, her face was covered by a 
 veil, and she wore the Turkish trousers and fereje. 
 
 When she was brought into the room, Berikoglou him- 
 self took off her veil, and enthusiastically asked the 
 spectators if she was not worth double the price he had 
 paid Hadji Mousa. 
 
 All without exception considered her marvellously beauti- 
 ful, and some made the observation that he was foolish in 
 giving her to the pasha and in not keeping her for himself. 
 
 "One can have as many women as he wishes to-day," 
 replied Berikoglou, with cynical indifference. "Take a 
 turn in Yesir Bazar, and see how many are sold there 
 like her. The insurrection has glutted the market, and 
 one does not know whom to buy and whom to refuse. 
 Besides, I have my own plans, and I want to oblige this 
 pasha. Now is a time for gaining money and becoming 
 banker of the sultan himself." 
 
 "Every one has his own reasons," observed one. "But 
 as for myself, I would not give this young woman for the 
 whole world." 
 
Arnaout Pasha and the Slave 299 
 
 Andronike heard apathetically. Her eyes and ears had 
 become accustomed to many abominable things during a 
 brief period. She answered certain questions addressed 
 her with a dignity which showed that she was not born a 
 slave, and maintained a stern silence toward one insolent 
 fellow who tried some shameful jokes. 
 
 Hadji Mousa was paid and went oft*. The purchased 
 slave was removed to her own room, and the company 
 soon devoted themselves to gambling. 
 
 In an hour Luigi Casteli returned, and informed his 
 master that Arnaout Pasha was very angry at the sale of 
 the diamond casket and wished to see Berikoglou at once. 
 
 This circumstance greatly disturbed the company. 
 Heads were cut off like turnips in those days in Constan- 
 tinople. Berikoglou, however, with great self-control, 
 continued to play a little while longer. Then he dis- 
 missed his first secretary and rose. "Go on with your 
 game till I return," he said. "I will not be long. Don't 
 be disturbed." 
 
 Enveloping Andronike in the most splendid wraps he 
 had, he embarked with her in his double-oared caique 
 and started for Arnaout Pasha's palace. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 ARNAOUT PASHA AND THE SLAVE 
 
 As Andronike entered the caique of the Armenian, she 
 could not keep back the burning tears at the thought that 
 she was passing from the hands of a Christian into those 
 of a Turk. She earnestly besought her master not to give 
 her up to the pasha, and promised him no end of money if 
 he would keep her a few days longer in his house; but 
 who paid attention ! The Armenian, a well-known usurer, 
 gave no heed to her words. Andronike was well aware 
 that, if she threw her diamonds at his feet, she would 
 perhaps soften him for a time, but then she would be 
 once for all deprived of means for escape, and her slavery 
 would be lifelong. Besides, any Christian who at that 
 time of suffering would so mercilessly and inflexibly give 
 
300 Andronike 
 
 up a Christian woman to a Mussulman was worse than the 
 Turks themselves. Once more, therefore, she centred 
 every hope in divine Providence, her everlasting refuge, 
 and kept silent without a murmur. 
 
 After half an hour's rowing the caique touched the 
 opposite shore of the Bosphorus at the village of Beylerbey, 
 where was situated the summer palace of Chourshid 
 Pasha, the famous vizir of Peloponnesus, in which Arnaout 
 Pasha was then residing. 
 
 The Armenian and Andronike entered the magnificent 
 edifice. In dazzling display of wealth and luxury, it is 
 inferior only to the seraglio of the sultan. 
 
 Berikoglou left Andronike under the care of the pasha's 
 slaves, and entered his presence alone. He saluted with a 
 salaam to the ground. The pasha was sitting on a downy 
 divan, smoking a silver-mounted and long-stemmed nar- 
 ghileh, and with his back propped against two gold-em- 
 broidered cushions. 
 
 " Has Fatima Sultana my diamond casket ? " he asked. 
 
 "Yes, effendi." 
 
 " And what does she offer ? " 
 
 "One hundred and fifty thousand piastres." 
 
 "A Greek of the bezestan offers me two hundred and 
 fifty thousand piastres on the part of the seraglio; so you 
 see the difference is large. To-morrow morning he will 
 come for it." 
 
 "It is strange, effendi. I obtained no such price any- 
 where. Fatima Sultana gave me one hundred and fifty 
 thousand piastres, the very sum you fixed. I closed with 
 her, and to-morrow morning she will pay me the money." 
 
 "Have you closed the bargain? You did wrong not to 
 tell me first," said the pasha, angrily. "You will pay me 
 the difference. I demand from you the other one hundred 
 thousand piastres, Berikoglou." 
 
 "As you please, effendi. Not one hundred thousand, 
 but a million, if you wish. You don't know me yet. I 
 do not work for money, for I have millions. I work for 
 glory. The honor of being your banker contents me." 
 
 "Sit down, Berikoglou, sit down," said the pasha, 
 pointing to a place on his divan, and questioning the 
 sincerity of his banker with a pair of piercing eyes. 
 
 It is superfluous to hide from the reader that Arnaout 
 Pasha was the accursed Barthakas, that is to say, the 
 
Arnaout Pasha and the Slave 301 
 
 caftanji of Chourshid. He had been promoted by the 
 infatuated vizir of the Morea to the rank of pasha of one 
 tail, and was then appointed to accompany the treasures of 
 Ali Pasha from Yanina to Constantinople. All this had 
 been effected by him; but, since the wives of the vizir had 
 been liberated, he was afraid that on their return his 
 theft of their diamonds would be detected. 
 
 The reader understands already why the banker flat- 
 tered him so much. Barthakas wanted a tool like 
 Berikoglou, and Berikoglou wanted an unprincipled pasha 
 like Barthakas. Together they could arrange how to 
 appropriate these treasures, and charge the robbery on the 
 aged and indolent vizir of Peloponnesus. Certain expla- 
 nations took place that evening, and they arranged to 
 consult more in detail on the morrow. 
 
 The banker rose to take leave. "Verily, your Excel- 
 lency, I forgot. I have the courage to offer you a beauti- 
 ful slave, whom I bought at Yesir Bazar." 
 
 "Thanks, Berikoglou. I have just come to Constanti- 
 nople, and so have not yet arranged my harem. You are 
 the first to remind me of it." 
 
 " And she is one who would please anybody. " 
 
 " Really! Is she a Georgian or a Circassian ?" 
 
 " She is a Christian from Scio, but superior to a Georgian 
 or Circassian. She is well brought up, and belongs to a 
 first-class family. She was raised in Venice." 
 
 "In Venice ! Where is she ?" 
 
 "I brought her here. She is outside in the ante- 
 chamber." 
 
 "Bring her. Bring her inside for me to see her," said 
 Barthakas, rising. 
 
 Andronike was brought in. The banker, softly ap- 
 proaching her from behind, drew the veil from her face. 
 
 Barthakas was speechless from surprise. 
 
 " My God ! " murmured the daughter of the demogeront ; 
 and her arms, as if of the dead, fell upon her knees. 
 
 " Your Excellency ! You know each other, I see ! 
 Strange coincidence! " 
 
 "To-morrow, then, we will finish our talk, Baron 
 Berikoglou. To-morrow," taking the banker by the arm, 
 — "to-morrow, to-morrow; come exactly at twelve o'clock, 
 and we will breakfast together and talk more fully. I 
 thank you unutterably for your present. One more beau- 
 
302 Andronike 
 
 tiful and more precious you could not have made me." 
 Giving the banker no time to take breath, still holding 
 him by the arm, he accompanied him as far as the door. 
 
 "And have you, my Andronike, been sold as a slave in 
 the slave market ? " he said, returning toward her and 
 crossing his arms on his breast. 
 
 " Be content. From the day when my house was burned 
 and my brother and father butchered, I have had an hour 
 of peace nowhere in the world. I have escaped one 
 danger only to fall into a worse." 
 
 " Alas ! From the day your house was burned and your 
 father butchered, my conscience has not let me have one 
 hour of peace, dearest. Although fortune has not ceased 
 to shower its gifts upon me, and although I had the hap- 
 piness of offering every consolation, or rather a few 
 services to your dying Thrasyboulos, yet — " 
 
 "My dying Thrasyboulos! Speak, speak, teacher! 
 What has become of Thrasyboulos?" the distracted girl 
 asked madly. 
 
 " Yes, my beloved one, call me teacher and not pasha, 
 and I shall always call you my longed-for pupil. These 
 are the two epithets which pour charm and priceless 
 recollections on my heart." 
 
 "For God's sake, Kyrios Barthakas, tell me, if you do 
 not wish me to go mad ! Tell me quicker ! What became 
 of my Thrasyboulos? " 
 
 "He died," said the teacher, mournfully covering his 
 face with his hand. 
 
 " He died ! Tell me the truth ! He died ! " 
 
 " Bitter truth ! Here is his ring, which he kissed a 
 thousand times before breathing his last. He intrusted 
 it to me to give back to you." 
 
 "Died," she muttered again, grasping it convulsively. 
 "It is our engagement ring. my Panaghia! Did he 
 die? He died!" she shrieked. Throwing herself on her 
 knees, with heart-rending groans she began to tear her 
 hair. 
 
 The traitor seemed himself to share her anguish. He 
 stood as if in grief, pressing his handkerchief to his eyes. 
 
 The wretched Andronike forgot her situation. She for- 
 got in what monster's den she was, and soon began to ask 
 details of her lover's death. 
 
 " He was wounded at Dragatzana, where he fought like 
 
Arnaout Pasha and the Slave 303 
 
 a liero. He was wounded, I say, and taken prisoner with 
 fifteen others of the Sacred Legion. The Turks would 
 have beheaded them all if by good fortune I had not been 
 there at the time. I saved them from a cruel fate, took 
 Thrasyboulos to my house, and employed every means of 
 curing him. The ball was in his breast, and the wound 
 was incurable. He himself foresaw the end, and sobbing 
 kept calling out, * Andronike, precious Andronike! ' He 
 told me of your oath at the black waters of the Styx. 
 Giving me your ring, with agony he uttered his last wish. 
 ' Give it to my adored one/ he said. ' Tell her that I 
 worshipped her till my last breath. Do not forget to tell 
 her that you closed my eyes, and — ? " 
 
 "Did he know about me ? Did he know of the death 
 of my father ? Had he received any of the letters I sent 
 him?" she interrupted. 
 
 " He knew nothing. You understand, dear one, that I 
 was not so simple as to tell him what occurred in the 
 tower. One such story, besides its uselessness, would 
 have blackened me and have hastened his death. I con- 
 fined myself to saying that I went from the tower to the 
 camp of Patras to take part in the Greek struggle, and 
 that I was captured by the Turks. I added distinctly 
 that I was watching for the first opportunity of returning 
 to the arms of my holy religion and nation." 
 
 Andronike kept on sobbing, with her hands pressed to 
 her face. The oath at the Styx, known only to her and 
 Thrasyboulos, and his ring, made it impossible to doubt 
 that his cherished soul had departed from this life. 
 
 "Listen, Andronike! " said Barthakas, drawing near and 
 taking her hand in his. " Let us forget the past. It is 
 deadly for us both. I injured you and you injured me. 
 Your letter to Lontos at Patras almost caused my death. 
 That letter forced me to desert to the Turks, and after- 
 wards to remain with them. Let us therefore forget the 
 past. Your moments now are holy. They are moments 
 of grief and tears, and I as a man respect them. From 
 my heart I sympathize with you. Do not imagine that in 
 this palace you are in any sense a slave. On the contrary, 
 you are the mistress. All the rooms, all the maid-ser- 
 vants, everything here is under your orders. I swear 
 to you on all I hold sacred that I will never approach your 
 apartments if I do not first have your permission, if I 
 
304 # Andronike 
 
 do not have your heartfelt consent. At least, my beloved 
 Andronike, give me the chance of making you partially 
 forget the evil I have done you. I believe that God, pity- 
 ing the pangs of my conscience, has brought you before 
 me in this harsh situation. Believe me, Andronike, there 
 is no worse torment in the world than remorse." 
 
 So Barthakas, with his handkerchief before his eyes 
 and with false sobs in his throat, acted skilfully the part 
 of consummate hypocrisy. 
 
 Silence and sorrow on both sides for a long time pre- 
 vailed. Finally, Andronike with a deep groan thanked 
 Barthakas for the manner in which he treated her. 
 
 Afterwards Arnaout Pasha assigned her the best part of 
 the palace, many maid-servants, a little library, and 
 every costly thing esteemed by Turkish luxury. None 
 the less did he select four eunuchs to watch carefully that 
 she should not escape. 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE OAR AGAIN 
 
 There was then a house in the quarter of Phanar near 
 the sea not far from the patriarchate, at whose door we 
 saw the execution of the patriarch Gregory. The house 
 was small, but scrupulously clean, and contained a 
 numerous family, consisting of father, mother, five daugh- 
 ters, and two sons. The family was that of Lampikis , the 
 boatman, to whom the diamond-studded snuff-box of the 
 sultan had been given , and who had done so much for the 
 preservation of the patriarch's remains. He was no longer 
 a boatman, but had become a diamond merchant, an occu- 
 pation with which he was acquainted from childhood, as 
 his father had followed it before him. 
 
 He had broken up the snuff-box, and had skilfully made 
 from it rings, clasps, ear-rings, and the like. With the 
 money Thrasyboulos gave him he bought various other 
 ornaments, and with his wife visited the harems of the 
 sultan and the great pashas, and sold his goods to the 
 odalisques at a high price. By his pleasing and witty 
 ways he gained their confidence, and they soon began to 
 
The Oar Again 305 
 
 intrust their own diamonds to him, sometimes for him to 
 sell, sometimes for him to give them another setting or to 
 completely change their form. The prayer of the blessed 
 Gregory, "May God grant you riches," had apparently 
 been heard. He became not only well known in all the 
 palaces of the Ottoman aristocracy in the capital, but also 
 through the markets of Constantinople. Whoever had 
 diamonds to sell or to set addressed himself to him. 
 Thus he had been employed by Arnaout Pasha. 
 
 Lampikis served him with unswerving fidelity, and soon 
 obtained a free entrance into his palace, all the while 
 gaining large profits for himself. Finally he had been 
 commissioned to make a splendid necklace, which Barthakas 
 proposed to give Andronike. 
 
 Dinner was on the table one day about a month after 
 Andronike had fallen into the hands of her abhorred 
 tutor. The family were waiting for the father to arrive 
 before sitting down. The daughters were busy separat- 
 ing and joining tiny bits of diamonds, while the sons 
 polished and clipped the golden links and joints of the 
 necklace. 
 
 None of the children possessed remarkable beauty. 
 Their monotonous blue eyes and protruding under lips, 
 as well as their low voices, did not at first give a very 
 favorable impression. On better acquaintance one recog- 
 nized their guileless nature and the simplicity and virtue 
 of their lives. 
 
 "I did hope, mama, that papa would come a little 
 earlier," said Marionca. "The odor of those kiftes makes 
 me so hungry." 
 
 " Eeally he is an hour later than usual to-night. The 
 Panaghia grant that nothing has happened to him," the 
 mother replied. 
 
 " What could happen to him ? I know. Some new 
 business keeps him in some palace at a distance." 
 
 "I know why he is late," said Vasilakis. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because to-day is the day when they bury the heads 
 of Ali Pasha and of his sons at the Gate of Selivria." 
 
 "Bah! And you imagine that papa has so lost his 
 brains as to leave his business and run to stare at the 
 heads of Ali Pasha and Mouktar," said Smaragda, 
 laughing. 
 
 20 
 
306 A ndronike 
 
 "Very well. Laugh! Everybody is running to see 
 them. The English offered I don't know how many pounds 
 to buy them for a museum in London, but Souleiman 
 Dervish, an old friend of Ali's, gave a good deal more to 
 get them. Arnaout Pasha has charge of the burial, and 
 he must have taken papa with him. Do you understand 
 now, my lady? " 
 
 " There is papa ! I hear his step ! " 
 
 "There he is! " said the mother, rising and listening. 
 
 Lampikis entered immediately. Taking off his cap, he 
 sat down upon a sofa and drew a long, deep breath. He 
 appeared thoroughly worn out and very absorbed. 
 
 "You are a little late, my chicken," said his wife, 
 gently. 
 
 "Who says there are no miracles in our days?'- mut- 
 tered the diamond merchant, making the sign of the cross, 
 and paying no attention to the remark of his wife. 
 
 "Why, papa?" 
 
 "Nothing, nothing. Have you picked the stones I 
 gave you? " 
 
 "Yes. They are all arranged." 
 
 "The necklace must be ready in three days." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because it must be. Is anything else ordained for 
 me to see in this world? " 
 
 "What is the matter, papa? You talk strangely to- 
 night," Tarsitsa asked, taking his hand. 
 
 "Nothing, nothing, my child. Let us have dinner." 
 
 "Tell us at least, is what has happened good or bad," 
 said Vasilakis. 
 
 "It is not time yet for you to know anything about it," 
 replied the father. 
 
 " You are strange, papa. At first you keep your secrets 
 from us in a deep and mysterious way, and then, after an 
 hour has passed and you have excited our curiosity, you 
 open the leaves of your heart like a lily." 
 
 "My son Vasilakis, don't be so inquisitive," said his 
 father; "and yet I will excite your curiosity a little more. 
 Look here ! " he added with a kindly smile. Then he took 
 from his pocket an immense diamond ring and a fork 
 inlaid with precious stones. Both were worth many 
 thousand piastres. 
 
 " Mama, what splendid stones ! " cried Smaragda. 
 
The Oar Again 307 
 
 "What a tremendous brilliant!" Vasilakis exclaimed. 
 "Whose is it? Tell me!" 
 
 "It is ours, Kyrios Vasilakis. It belongs to us." 
 
 "Ours! Those diamonds are worth thousands! Who 
 gave them to you? " 
 
 "The same person who gave me the snuff-box which 
 changed our fortune and made us gentlemen instead of 
 boatmen," said the father, smiling. 
 
 " What ! The most blessed patriarch ! " cried the son, 
 in amazement. 
 
 "Yes, the patriarch Gregory," replied Lampikis, rever- 
 ently, once more making the sign of the cross. 
 
 " Do you really, truly mean, papa, the blessed patriarch? " 
 
 "Let us sit down to dinner, children," said the father, 
 putting the diamonds back in his pocket. 
 
 Kyrios Lampikis, taking his seat at the head of the 
 table, began to eat like a hungry man, while an animated 
 discussion ensued among his seven children, whether the 
 patriarch Gregory had really returned to life and given 
 their father such precious things. 
 
 The mother, who knew her husband, remained silent, 
 apparently careless and indifferent. Her silence would 
 cause the solution of the mystery more quickly than if she 
 imitated her children. 
 
 "But did you see the patriarch with your own eyes? 
 What did he say to you? " insisted Vasilakis, who had 
 not put a crumb into his mouth, and was all excitement 
 to penetrate his father's secret. 
 
 "He told me," the father answered, addressing his two 
 sons, " that in the evening day after to-morrow you must 
 be ready for a great undertaking — that we shall leave 
 the diamonds and take up again our former occupation 
 with the oars." 
 
 " W T ith the oars ! What do you mean? " 
 
 "The oars; once more the oars. Take care to keep the 
 secret. Don't let a word go out of this house of what I 
 have told you to-night and what 3 r ou have seen. Now I 
 am going to sleep, and all day long to-morrow I shall stay 
 with you to finish the necklace. Good-night, my chil- 
 dren," he added. Then, nodding to his wife to follow, 
 he withdrew to his chamber. 
 
308 Andronike 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 WHAT THE OAR MEANT 
 
 After Barthakas had conducted Andronike to her 
 apartments, he returned to his own almost delirious with 
 joy. He found his pupil more developed than when he saw 
 her last and humbler, or at least in his power. 
 
 Then he stood upright in front of a full length mirror in 
 his room and, surveying his magnificent robes, began to 
 indulge in loud and hearty laughter, and shrug his 
 shoulders violently. A stranger seeing him would have 
 supposed that like Adonis he was taking delight in his 
 figure. It was not so however. Though Barthakas was 
 a knave, he was intelligent enough to know himself. He 
 was only laughing at the tricks of destiny. Destiny had 
 raised him to rank and wealth. To fully complete his 
 happiness, it now cast at his feet her, for the sake of whom 
 he had passed wakeful and weary nights, her whom he 
 loved, whom he hated, in the presence of whom he felt fear 
 and shame, and yet whom he passionately desired. 
 
 A momentary seriousness soon took possession of the 
 unnatural teacher. It seemed to him that his pupil, thus 
 appearing before him, announced the end of his felicity. 
 
 His sleep that night was broken and disturbed by evil 
 dreams. 
 
 When the banker visited him on the morrow, Barthakas 
 did not fail to seek information as to the dealer from whom 
 she had been bought. Berikoglou was forced to tell the 
 truth, and say he had obtained her from Hadji Mousa. 
 
 During four successive days he paid her no visit. He 
 followed this course to inspire her with confidence. She 
 was in his power ; slowly and safely then, preventing her 
 from communication with the rest of the world, and 
 wearing out her sad heart by the tediousness of solitude, 
 he hoped to bring her to himself. He felt a wild satis- 
 faction that he had drowned Thrasyboulos, and removed a 
 powerful rival from his path. 
 
 On the fifth day he asked permission to pay her a visit. 
 He had in readiness many garments and ornaments of 
 pearls, opals, and diamonds to present her. 
 
What the Oar Meant 309 
 
 The first moments of Andronike in her affliction were 
 excruciating. The heart of woman, when she really loves, 
 is a gulf the depth of which man cannot measure. Her 
 whole existence becomes only an ebb and flow of ceaseless 
 hopes. Her heart opens to ten thousand desires, and the 
 purpose of all these desires is only to find a way whereby 
 she may hold her lover in everlasting bonds. How black 
 the universe appears to such a soul after it has lost the 
 object of its longing, no one can express. 
 
 She shed many tears. She reasoned with herself and 
 pondered over the cruel news in every way ; but as she saw 
 the ring, and remembered that Barthakas knew word for 
 word their conversation at the waters of the Styx, she could 
 not question that Thrasyboulos during his last moments had 
 revealed all to the teacher. 
 
 Yet on the other hand, when she recalled the death of 
 her father and brother, and the infamous way in which 
 Barthakas had lied to Andreas Lontos, she was again in 
 doubt. 
 
 As she became more quiet, she tried to discover how he 
 had attained such rank and wealth. She was full of 
 loathing at his apostasy, and her old aversion became more 
 intense. Unfortunately Andronike could not conceal her 
 sentiments or disguise her face. Whomever she loved, she 
 showed it at once ; whomever she hated, she could not treat 
 civilly. 
 
 Barthakas found Andronike dressed in mourning, where- 
 by her attractiveness was increased. Again he spoke 
 words of comfort, and pretended to respect her affliction. 
 He talked of Thrasyboulos warmly, enthusiastically of 
 the achievements of the Greeks, and disdainfully of the 
 outrages of the Turks. After a short visit he took leave 
 with an affectation of sorrow and respect. 
 
 "I understand you well, Satan," Andronike murmured 
 to herself as soon as he went out. " Your quietness is the 
 prelude of diabolical plans." She tried forthwith to devise 
 some scheme for her escape. 
 
 Wherever in that palace she turned her eyes, she saw 
 only followers of the Koran. The only Christians who 
 entered there were Berikoglou and Larapikis. Surely she 
 had nothing to hope from the former. The latter as yet 
 she did not know well, although Barthakas continually sent 
 him for her to select new presents. 
 
310 Andronike 
 
 Finally the visits of Barthakas became more frequent. 
 His conversation changed. Often he remarked that he 
 wished to convert his property into ready money and go 
 with Andronike to Europe. He promised her that there 
 she should enjoy the highest society, and said that he 
 himself designed to assume the title of prince and take the 
 name of some distinguished Greek family. 
 
 His passion grew stronger and threatened to burst 
 control. Only the fear with which she had inspired him 
 on the night when she lashed his face prevented him from 
 proceeding to violence. Finally he decided to propose 
 marriage on the very day on which he should hang round 
 her neck the costly necklace that Lampikis was making. 
 
 Therefore, as he was setting out to bury the head of All 
 Pasha at the gate of Selivria he told the diamond merchant 
 that the necklace must be ready in three days without fail. 
 
 On entering the apartment of Andronike during the 
 absence of the pasha to show her some diamonds, Lam- 
 pikis found her alone with none of her maid-servants near. 
 They began to talk. That day for the first time he 
 informed her that he had known the patriarch Gregory. 
 He told her that his good fortune was due to him, and that 
 he had a strong affection for his nephew Thrasyboulos. 
 
 Then Andronike opened her heart without reserve. He 
 was astounded at learning who she was. He felt as if the 
 patriarch himself were bidding him help her, and swore 
 that he was ready from that moment to sacrifice his last 
 diamond for her deliverance. Andronike gave him the 
 brilliant and the fork which so excited his family. She 
 promised him also further rewards if they succeeded in 
 effecting her escape. Lampikis accepted the task as a 
 religious duty. 
 
 They agreed that the attempt should be made on the 
 night of the day on which Barthakas was to present her 
 the diamond necklace. Her rooms looked out only on 
 the Bosphorus. The waters of the strait washed the 
 foundations of the palace, and her latticed windows were 
 about forty feet above. In his boat Lampikis was to 
 bring a rope, which she could pull up by a cord, and then 
 climb down. He was to wait for her below. 
 
 Her servants were not suspicious, and were feeling 
 kindly to her, as she had been generous with presents. 
 Only courage on both sides seemed necessary for success. 
 
Chivalry 311 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 CHIVALRY 
 
 In a small house at Pera near the Taxim lived Luigi 
 Casteli, chief cashier of the banker Berikoglou. As we 
 have seen, he had left Scio, penniless, a few months before 
 its destruction, and crossed to Smyrna. The Catholic 
 archbishop of that city gave him letters of recommenda- 
 tion for Constantinople, and by means of them he obtained 
 the good will of the banker. 
 
 On entering this humble dwelling, we find Casteli, the 
 husband of Angerouca, his former flame. Under this same 
 roof we shall find also Kyria Phrancoulis and Loula, her 
 second daughter. The surprise of their presence is easily 
 explained. When the slave markets of Constantinople 
 were crowded by many thousand inhabitants of Scio, 
 Casteli often went there thinking he might meet some one 
 of his acquaintances or relatives. On one and the same 
 day he came upon Angerouca, Loula, and their mother, 
 though in the hands of different dealers. The price of 
 the three amounted to ten thousand piastres. With great 
 exertions , he got that sum together and paid their ransom. 
 
 His grief was keen at seeing that once opulent family 
 in such a condition. His former affection awoke, and his 
 conscience made him bitterly lament the evil reports he 
 had once spread about Angerouca. He asked her hand in 
 marriage from her mother, and espoused her soon after. 
 
 The Catholic now conducted himself toward Kyria 
 Phrancoulis like her own son. He showed her respect 
 and devotion, and economized all he could from his salary 
 to contribute to her comfort. Married life often trans- 
 forms the character of a man. Casteli now became sober, 
 industrious, and faithful in the discharge of the duties he 
 had assumed. Employing every means to discover the fate 
 of his wife's scattered family, he learned that Pantelis and 
 Diamanto were married, and that, by the help of the French 
 consul, they and Lorentzis had sailed for Trieste. 
 
 The treasures of Ali Pasha of Yanina had already come 
 under the control of the Armenian banker. Arnaout 
 Pasha had indeed delivered over a small proportion of 
 
312 Andronike 
 
 them to the imperial treasury, but had appropriated all 
 the rest to his own advantage. In all the negotiations 
 between Arnaout Pasha and Berikoglou, Casteli was the 
 intermediary, so he made his own profit and paid his 
 debts. Though he did not see Andronike, he heard of her 
 often from his employer, who called her, as we know, 
 Avgerine. He was also acquainted with Lampikis, who 
 did much business for his master. 
 
 On the day following their excitement, the whole family 
 of the diamond merchant worked on the necklace for 
 Arnaout Pasha. The father had controlled their curiosity 
 by promising to satisfy it as soon as they finished the 
 work on which they were engaged. 
 
 When at last the day's labor was done, and they sat 
 down to dinner, he told his children all about Andronike. 
 It is needless to describe the interest all felt when they 
 learned what had happened to the betrothed of Thrasy- 
 boulos. 
 
 "We shall do something grand if we rescue Andronike," 
 cried Vasilakis; "but where in the world can we hide 
 her? In our small house a stranger would be discovered 
 at once. It would be ruin for her and for us too." 
 
 "That is the greatest difficulty of all," said Lampikis. 
 " If we can find no other place, we must bring her here; 
 but my mind constantly turns to Signor Casteli as the 
 only man I can think of who is likely to help us." 
 
 "Casteli!" exclaimed his wife. "That is impossible! 
 In the first place it was his master Berikoglou who gave 
 her to Arnaout Pasha, and in the second place Casteli is a 
 Frank, and the Franks hate us worse than the Turks do." 
 
 "I know he is a Frank; but I do not believe he is a 
 fanatic. His wife is an Orthodox Greek, and her mother 
 and sister live with them. They belong to one of the 
 richest and best families of Scio, where he used to know 
 them. In fact, he rescued his wife and her mother and 
 sister from the slave market here. It took every para he 
 could scrape up." 
 
 "Probably he knows Andronike then/' said Kyria 
 Lampikis. "At any rate, it is about certain that his 
 wife and her family do. If he could only be trusted, his 
 house would be the safest place in the city. Who would 
 think of Andronike being hidden at the house of the chief 
 cashier of Berikoglou ! " 
 
A False Prophet 313 
 
 "The best thing to do then," said Smaragda, "is for 
 papa and mama to make a call on the Castelis. Then they 
 can refer to Scio and feel their way. When they think 
 best, they can mention Andronike and watch." 
 
 This idea was approved by all, and father and mother 
 set out at once for Pera. No plan could have been more 
 sagacious or successful. The guests were received cor- 
 dially, and as soon as they mentioned Scio, they touched 
 full hearts. 
 
 "Did you ever meet a certain Andronike?" Lampikis 
 remarked to Casteli. 
 
 "Signora Andronike! Ask Kyria Phrancoulis, in 
 whose family she lived for months ! " 
 
 "What, Signor Casteli! Is your mother-in-law Kyria 
 Phrancoulis? I did not understand that," exclaimed the 
 diamond merchant. Turning to her, he said, " Then you 
 remember both Kyria Andronike and Kyria Diamanto? " 
 
 "Indeed I loved them both like my own children. 
 Diamanto is married to my son Pantelis, and they are 
 now in Trieste; but I know nothing about our beloved 
 Andronike," she replied. 
 
 " Then , my wife, there is no need for us to keep silent 
 any longer. We are in good hands," said Lampikis, and 
 he told all about the plan for the rescue. 
 
 Words cannot describe the mingled surprise and joy of 
 the household. All overwhelmed Lampikis and his wife 
 with affection and gratitude. It was agreed that imme- 
 diately after her escape Andronike should be brought to 
 the house of Casteli, where it would be comparatively 
 easy to conceal her. 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 A FALSE PROPHET 
 
 Arnaout Pasha's necklace consisted of a rose clasp of 
 small diamonds with a dazzling cluster in the middle. 
 The two chains were rows of solitaires. 
 
 As Lampikis placed it before Barthakas, the latter took 
 it in his hands, turned it in every direction, and appeared 
 exceedingly good-humored and pleased. 
 
314 Andronike 
 
 " I have a few other valuable stones, your Excellency, 
 which I think would go well with this necklace," said the 
 diamond merchant. 
 
 "These are very beautiful. This must be European 
 workmanship, probably French. What is the price? " 
 
 "Twenty-five thousand piastres." 
 
 "Not less?" 
 
 "Perhaps I might make it a thousand less." 
 
 "I will take them. Show them to the lady at once. 
 Tell her that they are for sale. Consult her opinion." 
 
 The diamond merchant immediately sought Andronike 
 and told her everything. It was agreed for him to be that 
 very night under her window. 
 
 Barthakas meanwhile attired himself in his most mag- 
 nificent garments. He took with him his costly present, 
 and entered the apartment of his pupil. 
 
 "My darling Andronike, do you know what day of the 
 month this is?" 
 
 "Yes, Kyrios Barthakas, the twenty-seventh of October. 
 Ah, I understand! My birthday! I had entirely for- 
 gotten it." 
 
 "Nevertheless I had not forgotten. I was always 
 accustomed, when we lived so happily together in that 
 blessed land of Arcadia, on this day to give you a present 
 small but proportioned to my means. Retaining this 
 custom, to-day I have been bold enough to bring you this 
 small souvenir. Honor me then by accepting it, my good 
 Andronike." He offered her the rich necklace in a»casket 
 of silver and ivory. 
 
 "Kyrios Barthakas, I am much obliged to you, but I 
 cannot accept such a costly gift. I shall never be able to 
 repay you." 
 
 " I do not want to be repaid, my beautiful Andronike. 
 Unless you accept it, you will give me a mortal wound. 
 Do you know the chief reason why I offer it to you? " 
 
 "No, Kyrios Barthakas." 
 
 "To appease my conscience. You see at what a height 
 I stand to-day. How can I approach you and speak with- 
 out deep blushes, for I was a hireling in your father's 
 house? You, my darling, were the beginning of my suc- 
 cess. What do I say? You are the inspiration of my 
 learning. The teacher is taught. Whatever I learned, 
 whatever I know, it is on account of you that I know it. 
 
A False Prophet 315 
 
 Then when I owe you so much, will you still deprive me 
 of the moral satisfaction of discharging part of the heavier 
 debt I owe our intercourse? " 
 
 "What use are such jewels as these, Kyrios Barthakas, 
 to one plunged in sorrow and tears? " 
 
 "Your sorrow and tears cannot be eternal. Time, new 
 experiences, change of scene, weakness of memory, the 
 transition from one age to another, fate itself, if you will, 
 utterly transform a man. Believe me, the day will come, 
 my beloved Andronike, when in your transformation you 
 will think either that you have been new-born or that a 
 new soul has entered your body." 
 
 "Believe me, Kyrios Barthakas, my soul will never 
 change. My sorrow will never cease. The walls of a 
 monastery shall be the refuge of my remaining days." 
 
 Andronike pronounced these words gravely, and 
 Barthakas realized that the chord he struck was not the 
 right one. 
 
 "I believe you! I believe you! Or at least I will 
 agree with your ideas. But let us not leave the subject. 
 I beg you, I earnestly beg you to accept this casket." 
 
 "Grief does not need ornaments, Kyrios Barthakas." 
 
 "It does not need ornaments, but it does need con- 
 solation." 
 
 "You are right. It needs consolation," said the young 
 woman, with a bitter smile. "The greatest consolation to 
 the heart of the afflicted is found in doing good. If then 
 you offer me these diamonds, not to adorn the black robes 
 of my misfortune, but to assist the countless Christian 
 victims who have been rendered homeless by Turkish 
 despotism, I will accept them, and with them I will bless 
 you forever." 
 
 "You are a woman beyond price. You are an angel of 
 goodness. Accept them and use them as you will." 
 
 Andronike took them and thanked him. 
 
 Here the conversation changed. It turned to different 
 subjects, and the most European courtesy appeared to 
 reign between slave and master. 
 
 Soon a deep silence prevailed, during which the pasha 
 appeared very thoughtful. He had come with the inten- 
 tion of proposing marriage to his pupil, but had been so 
 disarmed by her proposal to enter a monastery that he was 
 at a loss what to do. Finally he began again. "Do you 
 
316 Andronike 
 
 know, my dear Andronike, that very probably in a few 
 days we shall set out for Paris or London? " 
 
 "I know nothing about it." 
 
 " In the Divan there is much talk of sending me there 
 as ambassador. The few languages that I speak have 
 created such an opinion of me among these cattle that my 
 appointment is almost sure." 
 
 Andronike looked at him fixedly. 
 
 " If in fact I am appointed, our position becomes diffi- 
 cult and intricate, beloved Andronike." 
 
 "Your words, Kyrios Barthakas, are so obscure that I 
 do not understand them." 
 
 "I will explain myself better, precious one," continued 
 the pasha, toying nervously with his string of amber 
 beads. " When one seeks to gain the affection of the 
 world, its esteem, its respect, above all its attention, the 
 first and most important thing is for one to make himself 
 known to that world. This being once accomplished, the 
 rest is nothing. Do you ask me, why I wish to become 
 known and esteemed in the world? The question is inevi- 
 tably presented to every man, especially to every Chris- 
 tian, whether he shall appear useful or useless to society. 
 The man who amounts to nothing resembles the weeds 
 that thrive among mountain rocks, and bring forth leaves 
 and die, accepting thanklessly and to no purpose the 
 bright dew of the morning, never serving as food to the 
 animals or as any benefit to man. When, however, 
 the fact is recognized that we were formed by God in some 
 way to serve humanity, then we perfectly understand that 
 we are performing a good and holy action by seeking to be 
 of use. If our dispositions are good, if we are inclined to 
 assist the sufferer, the helpless, the poor, how can we 
 accomplish it if we are destitute of means and power? 
 And how can the means and power be acquired by the 
 capable, by those who, while young, spring at once over 
 the heads of the crowd into a higher and broader horizon? " 
 
 "Now your eloquence has plunged me into still deeper 
 darkness, Kyrios Barthakas," Andronike cried, with a 
 forced laugh. 
 
 "Patience! A little patience, sweet one, and our con- 
 versation will become more clear," said Barthakas, without 
 heeding in the least the irony in her eyes. 
 
 " The goal of every man's thought, " he continued, " is 
 
A False Prophet 317 
 
 distinction. One man seeks it by his talents, another by 
 wealth, another by learning, another by the sword. Mil- 
 lions of men from childhood to old age struggle for such 
 distinction. They strive to emerge from darkness and 
 become known to the community, but almost all fail and 
 die in darkness. We are like flies, entangled once for all 
 in a spider's web and dried up on it„ Yet again, what 
 does not a single moment sometimes bring about? Fate in 
 an instant often exalts a man to a hight whither neither his 
 own labors nor the sacrifices of others could carry him. For 
 example, take you and me. I, a simple servant, without 
 any labor or exertion, am about to become an ambassador, 
 and afterwards who knows ! You, who like Artemisia, 
 fought at Thermopylae beside Diakos, you, the great lady 
 of Peloponnesus, are sold as a slave in the slave market. " 
 
 Andronike opened her great eyes and looked at him 
 panting. 
 
 "Do you mean, heavenly girl, that now you must be left 
 forever in obscurity? Can I believe that you desire it? 
 If so, it is my duty to obey you, though your fate is press- 
 ing you higher, not, however, for the sake of offering you 
 peace and pleasure, but to make you a child of mercy, a 
 comfort of the unfortunate, a healer of human wounds. 
 Andronike, my darling Andronike, by our holy faith, by 
 the faith of Christ, I realize what is ordained for you 
 better than you do yourself. When we are set apart for 
 duties of such dignity, then, my good, my virtuous 
 Andronike, let us also make sacrifices. A very great 
 career demands a very great sacrifice. As far as we are 
 able, let us banish from our distracted breasts old-time 
 sufferings. Let us in the bliss of the present and of the 
 future find forgetfulness of the past." 
 
 Andronike was terribly perplexed; but she endeavored 
 to control her discontent and anger. A single unguarded 
 word might overthrow all her plans for escape that night. 
 
 Barthakas took her silence for assent. He closed his 
 eyes, and like a pythia continued with still more grandilo- 
 quence. "Yes. In the Sibylline books my soul has 
 read that with you I have been ordained to play a great 
 part in the enlightened circle of Europe. You arc a 
 woman who will wield wealth and power, not in luxury 
 and empty dreams, but in works of beneficence. Like the 
 shining hair of Berenice, your memory will glitter through 
 
318 Andronike 
 
 future ageSo Let me, beloved maiden, lead you by the 
 hand to the mansions of the leaders, to the abodes of the 
 learned, to the palaces of kings. What perfection will 
 you display in such schools! Never will Hymen adorn his 
 altar with more fadeless flowers than the moment when 
 the three graces, incarnated in your single self, shall salute 
 him." 
 
 "Kyrios Barthakas, have you forgotten that I am a 
 Christian? Have you forgotten that you have renounced 
 Christianity and voluntarily accepted Islam?" the dis- 
 tracted girl interposed with great dignity. 
 
 "Beloved one, I was expecting this question just as the 
 lame man expects to hear, * Why are you lame? f My 
 Andronike, you know that religion is of two kinds, — 
 inward and outward. Furthermore, you are not ignorant 
 that it is better for one to have the former than the latter. 
 I put on Islam in order to enjoy the first. In what does 
 religion consist except in good actions, generosity, and 
 beneficence? How could I acquit them while a penniless 
 and obscure Christian? Yet in the depth of my soul do 
 not the Crucified and the ever Virgin dwell? As proof of 
 it, see my amulet. My amulet is wood of the true cross, 
 which T have never ceased wearing on my breast. Do you 
 remember it, my child, in the days when I was your 
 teacher? " He showed her a small amulet. 
 
 "I believe you. I cannot but believe you, for ho who 
 renounces Christianity for materialistic Islam is the most 
 contemptible of men," Andronike soberly replied. "But 
 you appear to be an Ottoman, and are about, as you say, 
 to be sent as ambassador of the Sublime Porte to Europe. 
 How then can you marry me without taking me to a 
 mosque and employing an imam? You understand that I 
 would prefer death a thousand times rather than consent 
 to any such step." 
 
 The countenance of Barthakas glowed at this reply. He 
 thought that he had gained his prize, that his pupil was 
 inclining toward him, and that they were separated only 
 by religion. " I can marry you according to our religion, 
 the eternal religion of Christ, before the patriarch, and in 
 the presence of the vizir himself." 
 
 "Kyrios Barthakas, do not play with the Turks. You 
 live among them, and I am surprised that you do not know 
 them yet. Look out for your head ! " 
 
A False Prophet 319 
 
 "A dead man does not bite," he said, closing one eye 
 and shaking his head with meaning. "Our Turks are 
 finished. I am surprised that you should speak to me 
 thus, you who have fought with them, and have seen them 
 close by just as I have. We Christians can lead these 
 wretches by the nose. To-day the reins are in our hands, 
 and all we need is a little patience and dissimulation to 
 leap into the saddle. But do not let us wander from the 
 subject. I announce everywhere, my brilliant Andronike, 
 that I am making every effort to persuade the Padishah 
 and our Divan to permit me to marry a Christian. I shall 
 make them all understand that of necessity I must take 
 a wife with me to Christian countries. Those stupid 
 Franks will then be convinced for the first time with their 
 own eyes that in Turkey the fair sex is not oppressed as 
 some faithless travellers represent. Then, when I dis- 
 close to my sovereign the advantages which the presence 
 of such a majestic and virtuous woman can secure for our 
 monarchy, and when I make it evident to him that there, 
 in the hospitable salon of an attractive lady, the affairs of 
 a nation are decided more quickly than in formal councils, 
 by the Crucified, I am sure that the Padishah himself will 
 desire our marriage. Sultan Mahmoud is devoted to 
 reforms. Make him well understand the advantage of a 
 thing, and not only does he do it, but he rewards liberally. 
 Suppose, however, for a moment that I fail. So much the 
 better. I have wealth, means, my former acquaintance in 
 high circles. I will take the title of Prince Palaeologns, 
 or some other name, and we will go to Paris or London, 
 saying we are descended from the Byzantine emperors. 
 We shall gradually be reckoned among the real princes of 
 Europe. The Greeks will become accustomed to calling 
 us by this name, and we ourselves shall begin to believe in 
 our right to it. Then, when that solemn hour shall strike, 
 that sceptre-destroying hour when this monarchy is over- 
 whelmed and the Byzantine empire is resurrected, who 
 else will the Great Powers select to occupy the throne of 
 Byzas than me whom they will believe descended in direct 
 line from a race of rulers! And then, my glorious 
 Andronike, in this capital where you were sold as a slave, 
 your beautiful head with unutterable glory will wear the 
 crown of the wise Theodora, of the illustrious Pulcheria, 
 and of Saint Theophania ."' 
 
320 Andronike 
 
 Andronike felt that unless she gave him some slight 
 encouragement her position would be worse than on the 
 flagship. She remained thoughtful for a time, and after- 
 wards said, "Kyrios Barthakas, my heart is still sore 
 from the afflictions which one after another in so short a 
 time have befallen me. I realize that no one is left me in 
 the world, and that I must finally resign myself to some 
 place and to some sort of life, but before I decide, I have 
 need of much reflection. I desire the respite of a month, 
 and I doubt not that you will grant it to me." 
 
 " Not only one month but two, my darling Andronike, 
 for I myself understand that our marriage cannot take 
 place for six months at least. Your sorrow is my sorrow. 
 I have entered on this conversation to-night only to study 
 your opinion. Reflect, my darling, and consider your 
 situation as you will," cried Barthakas, overcome with 
 joy, "and you will see that none can offer you more 
 splendid and more varied advantages than divine Provi- 
 dence through me places at your feet. If, after mature 
 reflection, you decide, my Aphrodite, to accept me, your 
 Hephaestus, if Heaven has truly designed you, the goddess 
 of beauty, for me, the humblest of men, let the world 
 know that it was done to manifest more strikingly the 
 immensity of your virtue. It was done to offer you a 
 man's faith and devotion and boundless love, something 
 in truth very rare and difficult to find in this lower 
 world." 
 
 Thus Barthakas discharged the last arrow from his 
 quiver. He pressed with passion and kissed with burning 
 lips the hand of his pupil. He showered upon her many 
 endearing names. Then taking his turban in both his 
 hands like a true worshipper of Mecca, he turned, and 
 slowly left the room. 
 
 It was already midnight. Andronike was almost dead 
 from anxiety and fear. The sight of her father's assassin 
 was a thousand times more repulsive to her than the 
 admiral Kara Ali himself. She called for warm water as 
 if for a bath, so her servants remained in the adjacent 
 chamber. Then she fastened the door on the inside. With 
 the speed and daring which up to the present she had 
 always shown, in ten minutes she was outside her cage and 
 below in the boat. An hour later she was in the arms of 
 Loula and Kyria Phrancoulis ! 
 
A False Prophet 321 
 
 The house of Signor Casteli during the next few days 
 was like a tiny theatre. Each inmate narrated what he 
 had himself seen and endured. So varied and so eventful 
 was the story of each that one ceased talking only to give 
 an opportunity to some other to begin. 
 
 Andronike received minute details in reference to 
 
 Thrasyboulos. She had written to the bankers M in 
 
 Odessa, in whose care, she was informed through the 
 patriarchate, the property of the murdered Gregory had 
 been deposited. They answered that Thrasyboulos, after 
 the battle of Dragatzana, had fallen into the power of the 
 Austrians, that he had escaped from the fortress of 
 Munkacs, returned to the Peloponnesus, and at last 
 accounts was in Misolonghi. 
 
 She abandoned her garb of mourning, which the in- 
 famous teacher had so deceitfully persuaded her to put on; 
 but she was lost in endless conjectures as to how her 
 enemy had obtained possession of the betrothal ring, 
 and had learned about their oath. 
 
 Lampikis, rejoicing at the success of his generous and 
 hazardous undertaking, and munificently rewarded by 
 Andronike, resolved, as he was in easy circumstances, to 
 leave the capital before the Turks found out what he had 
 done. 
 
 Andronike earnestly encouraged him in this design. 
 With his entire family they embarked, about the beginning 
 of June, 1823, on an Ionian vessel for Ithaca. Their 
 voyage lasted almost three months, being prolonged by 
 the calms prevalent on the ^Egean, by frequent contrary 
 winds, and by the Ottoman fleet that seemed everywhere. 
 Finally in September they landed in safety. 
 
 Signor Casteli remained at Constantinople. Business 
 was brisk, and he wanted to take advantage of circum- 
 stances, especially as he had a fine situation with the 
 Armenian banker. 
 
 Kyria Despoinouca with Loula went to Trieste to her 
 sons, Pantelis and Lorentzis, who, through the aid of their 
 relatives and compatriots, had founded a commercial 
 house. 
 
 The rage of Arnaout Pasha was indescribable. He was 
 awakened from the most delicious dreams to be informed 
 of his pupil's escape. 
 
 The ladder hanging outside the window left no doubt in 
 
 21 
 
322 Andronike 
 
 his mind that the dove had flown to the opposite shore of 
 the Bosphorus. The height was great, and what she had 
 done seemed to him more daring than if he had climbed 
 Pompey's Pillar. 
 
 All his palace was in commotion. Eunuchs, slaves, 
 horses, dogs, boats, were sent in every direction in pursuit 
 of the fugitive, but the search did not begin till two or 
 three hours after Andronike had quitted the walls of the 
 harem. 
 
 Whom to suspect! He was unable to form any idea. 
 He knew that Andronike could have made no acquaintance 
 at Constantinople, for she had been brought almost direct 
 from the slave market to his palace, and there had 
 remained all the time closely confined. Andronike a few 
 days later, in order to divert his suspicions from Lampikis, 
 wrote him that she had eluded his hands, thanks to one of 
 his servants. But his servants were very many. He 
 supected them all, threatened them all, examined them 
 all, and as he could not find out the truth he grew frenzied, 
 his rage became madness, and finally despair. His eyes 
 were not opened until the family of Lampikis sailed from 
 Constantinople with Andronike; but then it was too late. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 LORD BYRON 
 
 The year of 1823 was drawing to its conclusion, and 
 the world seemed amazed at the events of the Greek 
 struggle. The death of Markos Botsaris, the failure of 
 the two sieges of Misolonghi, the burning of the Turkish 
 fleet by Canaris and Miaoulis, the arrival of Lord Byron, 
 and of many other distinguished philhellenes, at last 
 roused Sultan Mahmoud. He understood that it was no 
 longer a question of punishing a revolted province, but. of 
 preserving his own tiara. Therefore he commanded 
 Arnaout Pasha to depart without delay for Egypt, and to 
 communicate to the viceroy of that country his imperial 
 will that he should at once set his fleets and armies in 
 motion and destroy the rebels, whom neither Chourshid 
 
Lord Byron 323 
 
 nor the Scodra Pasha nor Omer Brione until then had 
 been able to overthrow. 
 
 On January fifth, surrounded by soldiers, Lord Byron 
 entered Misolonghi in the midst of a discharge of fire- 
 arms, shouts, and applause, and every sign of excessive 
 joy on the part of the inhabitants. 
 
 Was there a Greek who did not hasten with emotion to 
 behold that hero who by his martial stanzas had recalled 
 him to the recollection of the West ? By his pathetic strains 
 he had reached and awakened the heart of slumbering 
 Europe and filled it with enthusiastic sympathy for suffer- 
 ing Greece. 
 
 To that afflicted land, in its delirium, Lord Byron seemed 
 one of those spirits which, escaping from the silent tombs 
 of its ancestors, had flown to the West and there, assuming 
 a British form, had sung its mournful elegies and uttered in 
 verse the sorrows of their tortured hearts. 
 
 "Where is the brother of the modern Leonidas ? " was 
 his first question to the Archbishop of Arta, who with Mav- 
 rocordatos advanced at the head of the people to receive 
 him. 
 
 Konstantinos Botsaris then appeared. 
 
 " Blessed mortal ! You are the brother of a hero whom 
 time will never forget," he said. Then turning toward the 
 crowds, "Greeks," he cried, "you see in your midst an 
 Englishman who never ceased to study the writings of 
 your ancestors, who always prayed for your deliverance, 
 and who now comes with you to inflict vengeance upon 
 your tyrant, and for you to pour the last drop of his 
 blood." 
 
 His arrival at Misolonghi was one of those strange 
 triumphs rare in history. In nothing did it resemble that 
 of Titus and Vespasian, whose togas dripped with Jewish 
 blood, neither those of Trajan, Hadrian, and the two An- 
 tonines, who oppressed humanity with every sort of taxa- 
 tion to erect their monuments, neither those of Belisarius 
 and Theodosius, whose entry the heads of Persians, Par- 
 thians, and Gauls preceded, borne on spears. It was a tri- 
 umph simple as the laurel of the ancients. It was the 
 reception, with natural enthusiasm, of a man who, like an 
 angel from heaven, inspired in us the brightest hopes. In 
 truth, the Greek reverently believed that Lord Byron was 
 able to break his chains at once, and that he had been chosen 
 
324 A ndron ike 
 
 and sent by revered Great Britain herself for that express 
 purpose. 
 
 The doors of his house were blocked by soldiers. The 
 streets under his windows were rendered impassable by a 
 tumultuous crowd. The walls of his reception room re- 
 sembled an armory rather than a poet's dwelling. Swords, 
 yataghans, daggers, scimitars, pikes, guns, powder-flasks, 
 pistols and every kind of weapon, crowned with laurel and 
 myrtle, and in ail fantastic designs, then constituted the 
 furniture and adornment of wealthy Greek houses. 
 
 Lord Byron glanced at the weapons of the hoplarchs, 
 their Albanian attire, and the stalwart and imposing build 
 of the men. He could not refrain from exclaiming, " Are 
 these people the Greek bondmen whom we call degenerate ! " 
 
 Nothing was ever more beautiful than his face. His 
 countenance indicated the brilliancy of his mind. His hair, 
 which hung in natural locks, was gray and his moustache 
 blond. His chest was well rounded and prominent, his 
 waist supple, and his complexion delicate and pale. 
 
 The only physical defect of Lord Byron was his left foot, 
 which was naturally deformed. In consequence he limped 
 a little, as also did three of his illustrious contemporaries, 
 Talleyrand, Soult, and Sir Walter Scott. He always attrib- 
 uted this deformity to careless treatment by an uncle, but 
 in truth he was born lame. He suffered so much in conse- 
 quence as to think himself the most unfortunate of men 
 whenever his attention fell upon his foot. He always spoke 
 compassionately of lame people, or of those who had any 
 trouble with their feet and might become so. 
 
 Lord Byron's character was that of a typical poet. He 
 never followed the models which others had set before 
 them, nor did he conform to any fixed system. The excel- 
 lences and defects of his character were of the same uneven- 
 ness and variety as were his ideas when committed to paper. 
 
 Sometimes he seemed pensive, morose, silent, forbidding 
 in appearance, and exceedingly haughty. At others he was 
 vivacious, gentle, witty, gay, full of anecdotes and good 
 humor, passing from one mood to the other in a moment. 
 While leading the general conversation, suddenly his 
 memory would recall unpleasant experiences, and he would 
 at once become silent and a prey to melancholy. Then his 
 eyes would moisten, he would rise uneasily, and withdraw to 
 his apartments or walk slowly, with hands folded behind 
 
Lord Byron 325 
 
 him, from one end of the room to the other without paying 
 the least heed to persons present. 
 
 Meanwhile his poetical emotion would awake, and what- 
 ever he then wrote was beautiful and inspiring. In a single 
 day he would be transformed into two or three different 
 men, each with a character the direct opposite of the rest. 
 From a philanthropist he would become a miser, from a man 
 of society a misanthrope, from a grave clergyman a frivolous 
 boy. From the noblest and loftiest ideas he would descend 
 to the most debased and ignoble. His writings bear the 
 same stamp. " Childe Harold " is the faithful picture of 
 the one man and "Don Juan" of the other. Lord Byron 
 was a volcano, sometimes quiet, sometimes in eruption, but 
 always burning. 
 
 His heart was naturally generous and tender to the mis- 
 fortunes of others. Poverty, sickness, mental ills, made an 
 impression upon him equal to the pathos with which after- 
 wards he portrayed them in his poems. His purse was 
 then always open. Whatever assistance he could give, he 
 hastened to bestow. He withdrew into himself if in any 
 way he was repelled, or met ingratitude or ill desert where 
 he had conferred benefits. 
 
 The beauties of nature, the changes of the sky, the monu- 
 ments of past generations, affected his mind more than did 
 the magnificence of modern discoveries. 
 
 He had the unstudied and natural manners of a true 
 English gentleman. Yet many persons considered him cold 
 and repellent, and others found him heartless. This differ- 
 ence of judgment arose from his constantly varying condition 
 and mood. Of nervous temperament, when he was under 
 the control of mental depression or was wandering in his 
 ideal world, the stranger found only a figure moving mechani- 
 cally and not the real Byron. 
 
 Although still young, his quick perception, the travels of 
 his youth, his divorce, and his active imagination had 
 rendered him prudent and world-weary so that he himself 
 often said, " I am a young old man." He acted as if aged. 
 Carefully and thoughtfully he would narrate what he had 
 to say. He would begin fluently and soon become excited, 
 then he would hurry on like a stream, passing lightly and 
 with unequalled grace from wit to philosophy and from 
 philosophy to wit. Words flowed at times like a mountain 
 torrent which he seemed himself unable to restrain. 
 
326 Andronike 
 
 He had consecrated all his genius to that land on which 
 he was ordained later to die, a land that lived in history, but 
 to his fellow-countrymen seemed dead. He studied it pro- 
 foundly. From its monuments and mythology he derived 
 his most beautiful poems. Its breezes, its natural features, 
 the traditions of its heroes, and its present condition raised 
 a tumult in his soul and gave wings to his genius. " The 
 Giaour," " The Bride of Abydos," " The Corsair," and more 
 than one other poem are the result. 
 
 Who will not ask, " Could so changeable a character, when 
 acting as chief of an insurrection, which had as many half- 
 savage leaders as the Lernsean hydra had heads, have been 
 able to direct it and to persevere to the end ? " Would he 
 not soon have lost heart and gone away ? Au untimely 
 death removed him, and it is impossible for us to answer. 
 
 However let us not forget that in great projects Byron 
 was firm as iron and showed no inconstancy. This he 
 proved many times. Till the day of his death he was 
 always inflexible in his political and religious opinions. 
 Furthermore, after having centred the attention of the 
 world, would he have abandoned us ? Would he not surely 
 have persisted and endured every danger and annoyance 
 without complaint ? This became evident even in his brief 
 stay. Certain other philhellenes, with childish criticism, 
 upbraided and contemned us because among us they did not 
 find the ordinary comforts of civilized life. He, on the con- 
 trary, surveyed the condition of the Greek with the eye of a 
 philosopher and soldier, and the more he studied him, the 
 more he admired him. He marvelled at our endurance of 
 hardship and hunger. He shared our sports and exercises. 
 He was amazed that we could sleep under the thick fleeced 
 capote and upon the dry branches on the drenched ground, 
 and be always ready with our clumsy weapons to answer 
 the call of battle whenever it echoed near us. 
 
 Our general condition inspired respect and not contempt 
 in his noble heart. Thereby he was reminded of ancient 
 Sparta. Captain Scott, on whose vessel he had come to 
 Greece, told him it was better to return to England, enjoy 
 his wealth and fame, and take his seat in Parliament, rather 
 than to shed his blood for the savage, quarrelsome, skin- 
 clad Greeks. Lord Byron listened in patience, and his 
 only reply was a gentle, sarcastic smile. Though an 
 aristocrat of aristocrats, he was ready to become one of us. 
 
Drawing Nearer 327 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 DRAWING NEARER 
 
 The wound of Thrasyboulos was very serious. Not 
 only was he confined to his bed, but there was great fear 
 that his right leg would have to be amputated. Carl and 
 Lampros took care of him and were constantly at his side. 
 
 On the arrival of Lord Byron at Misolonghi, he begged to 
 be placed near the window so that from a distance, at least, 
 he might also catch a glimpse of the glorious man. 
 
 How soberly he watched the enthusiasm and joy of the 
 rest. He was racked by bodily and mental pains and 
 breathed with difficulty. The fair tints of health had 
 fled from his cheeks and left only the pale, worn and 
 repellent traits of disease. 
 
 The pure air which that day he breathed for the first 
 time seemed to give him life. The shouting crowds, the 
 movement of the soldiers, and the discharges of firearms 
 made him start uneasily several times and try to rise. 
 
 Below his dwelling was a cafe in which the Suliots and 
 other soldiers, dressed in the fustanella, were gathered, 
 playing cards or smoking. 
 
 Thrasyboulos amused himself with looking on and listen- 
 ing to the witty remarks of Lampros, who stood near. 
 
 " What has happened, friend Lampros ? Look ! Why 
 are the people running ? " 
 
 The old armatolos looked out of the window. " A man 
 in "Frank clothes, with great shining buttons, is walking 
 with one of the captains." 
 
 * Is n't it the lord ? " Thrasyboulos asked. 
 
 " I don't know, master. He is coming in this direction ! 
 He is coming to this house ! He is knocking at the door ! 
 He is some great person." 
 
 " Coming here ! Who is it ? I hear a knock. Hurry, 
 my Carl." 
 
 Lampros hastily arranged the seats and furniture. 
 When some one knocked, he opened the door wide, smiling, 
 Xnacing his hand on his heart and bowing to the waist. . 
 
 "Kyrios Thrasyboulos," said the captain, "this person 
 is Fletcher, the valet of Lord Byron. He has a letter to 
 
328 Andronike 
 
 give you which was intrusted to him at Zante for your own 
 hand." 
 
 Lampros was greatly disturbed on learning that this 
 man with the glittering buttons was only an ordinary 
 servant like himself. 
 
 Thrasyboulos took the letter, but before looking at it, he 
 asked Fletcher about Lord Byron and the condition of 
 western Greece. They soon afterwards went away. 
 
 " So then that fellow is a servant, and I showed him 
 such respect,' 7 said Lampros to Carl. "The Franks deck 
 out their footmen more than they do themselves. How 
 can one tell now, Carl, which is master and which is 
 servant ? " 
 
 With the eye of a lynx Thrasyboulos examined the seal 
 on the letter. " It is the seal of my own ring ! It is 
 the writing of my betrothed ! Then Andronike has fallen 
 into the hands of Barthakas," Thrasyboulos muttered to 
 himself, not daring to break the Spanish wax on the letter, 
 while the cold perspiration started on his feeble frame. 
 
 " What is the matter, effendi ? Are you raving ? " the 
 armatolos asked. 
 
 " Lampros, open this letter." 
 
 "Yes, effendi." 
 
 Thrasyboulos took it in his trembling hands. First, he 
 looked at the signature and kissed it many times. Then he 
 began to read. 
 
 The letter was as long as a memoir, for in it Andronike 
 again told all that had happened to her, from the beginning to 
 the end. She had sealed it with the ring, which we know 
 Barthakas had returned to her in Constantinople, when he 
 wanted to prove that her lover was dead. 
 
 " Carl, please go to the house of the lord and ask 
 Fletcher from me to do me the favor of coming here a 
 moment to-morrow if he can." 
 
 Carl went out. 
 
 " Come close, Lampros. It is time for me to trust you 
 with a profound secret." 
 
 " Say, on, my master. You know my heart." 
 
 " Captain Andronikos, your former master, was not a man 
 but a woman." 
 
 Lampros fixed his old eyes upon him attentively. " It 
 is time for you to leave the window, effendi, for there is too 
 much fever now in Misolonghi." 
 
To lis and Sass 329 
 
 " Don't be troubled, Lampros, for I have n't any fever. 
 I am only telling you that Captain Andronikos was not a 
 man. Did n't you ever suspect it ? " 
 
 " No, effendi. He was handsome as a woman ; but how 
 could I know what was underneath ? " 
 
 Thrasyboulos smiled, and in a few words told who 
 Andronike was. Then he read him that part of her letter 
 which explained the necessity of her putting on the dress of 
 an armatolos. 
 
 " That infernal dwarf ! Ah ! if I had only known all 
 about it when I saw him at Patras ! Only one shot and 
 down he would have dropped ! And now he is a pasha ! " 
 
 The resentment of Lampros seemed greater than that of 
 Thrasyboulos. 
 
 "Give me pen, ink, and paper. Get ready to go to 
 Zante and bring my betrothed here." 
 
 "As you please, my master. I am ready to die for you. 
 Hurry to get better, so you may leave Misolonghi the 
 sooner. The air here is like poison. As soon as you can 
 go to the Islands, you will be all right." 
 
 Thrasyboulos wrote his letter, and that same evening 
 Lampros left for Zante. 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 TOTIS AND SASS 
 
 The serai, where the Governor of Misolonghi had his 
 head-quarters, served also as the artillery barracks. There 
 too lived the English engineers who had come to teach the 
 Greeks. Thither likewise had been carried the different 
 machines for gunmaking which the philhellenic committee 
 of London sent, and which never were used, but were left 
 untouched until the destruction of the city. 
 
 One day towards noon Carl and one of his Suliot friends, 
 named Totis, went out to walk. The latter led the little 
 son of Botsaris by the hand. Thrasyboulos had been left 
 under the care of an old woman. It was the first time for 
 many days that Carl had gone out for a breath of fresh air. 
 They went into a cafe' and had a drink. The Suliot did 
 full honor to his entertainer, and had become almost tipsy 
 by the time they passed in front of the serai. 
 
330 Andronike 
 
 " I am going in for a moment to see the cannon," said the 
 Suliot. 
 
 " It is not allowed/' said Carl. 
 
 11 What is that to me," the Suliot exclaimed. Wishing 
 to show Carl that he was somebody, he proceeded with an 
 insolent strut toward the serai. 
 
 The sentinel stopped him, but Totis endeavored to 
 enter by force. Lieutenant Sass, a Swede, came up that 
 moment and also stated that no one could enter without 
 permission. 
 
 " I say I am going in ! Who are you to prevent me ! " 
 
 " No ! You can't go in. That is the order ! " 
 
 " An old hen you are, I say. Let me go in and get 
 permission from my lord." 
 
 " No ! No ! My lord does not live here. Halt ! " 
 
 " Halt yourself, I say. Don't lift your hand, I say." 
 
 The Suliot then tried to enter by force. The Swedish 
 officer prevented him, and, when he saw that he paid no 
 attention to kind treatment, gave him a push. 
 
 " Do you, I say, strike me ! Look here ! " and he laid 
 his hand on his yataghan. 
 
 " No," said Sass. " You are not going in," and he drew 
 his sword. 
 
 " And I say you won't stop me ! This is the way they 
 use the yataghan, I say." In the twinkling of an eye 
 Totis drew his weapon and with his herculean strength 
 struck off the left arm of the Swede. Not yet satisfied he 
 instantly discharged his pistol at him and stretched the 
 unfortunate lieutenant mangled upon the ground. 
 
 The soldiers of the artillery rushed upon Totis, and after 
 giving him several wounds, succeeded in securing him and 
 confining him, together with Carl and the son of Botsaris, 
 in the serai. 
 
 As soon as the other Suliots heard about it, they ran 
 there, and a general fight would have ensued if in the mean 
 time Totis had not been released. 
 
 The engineers thereupon hurried in a body to the house 
 of Lord Byron, bringing Carl and demanding permission to 
 leave Greece at once and return to England. " We came 
 to work and to serve Greece, or at least to die fighting the 
 Turks, but not to be assassinated in this fashion." 
 
 "You are right, and I am arranging now to get the 
 Suliots away from Misolonghi," said Lord Byron. M They 
 
To its and Sass 331 
 
 are the curse of the place. A few days more and we will 
 have quiet here." 
 
 " My lord, we will not stay a day longer in this tigers' 
 den," said the horrified engineers. "Examine this man 
 here, and see how, in a moment, Totis murdered Sass." 
 
 " Who are you ? " Lord Byron asked Carl. 
 
 " I am the servant of Kyrios Thrasyboulos, who fought 
 at the side of Markos Botsaris." 
 
 " Which is my lord who is famous for his rhymes ? " a 
 woman's voice was heard calling out. At the same moment 
 Kyra B, appeared, holding a letter in her hands. 
 
 Carl recognized her and smiled. 
 
 " Ah ! Are you here, my little Carl, and Kyrios Thrasy- 
 boulos too ? Show me my lord so I may give him a letter 
 from Kyrios Trelawny." 
 
 Byron took the letter, which was really from Edward 
 Trelawny, who, wishing to amuse the poet, had sent him 
 Kyra R with a long description. 
 
 Unfortunately she found the strange being at one of 
 those moments when he was so nervous and so enraged with 
 the Suliots, that, as soon as he had glanced over the first 
 page of the letter, and got an idea of its contents, he closed 
 it angrily and, turning to her, said, "Do me the favor of 
 coming another day, for now I am exceedingly busy." 
 
 The features of Kyra B contracted with displeasure. 
 
 After casting a bold glance at Byron and the engineers, she 
 went out in an offended manner, and waited in the street 
 below for Carl. 
 
 Misolonghi sincerely regretted the unfortunate Sass. He 
 received a ceremonious funeral, and many inhabitants fol- 
 lowed his remains. So did the Suliots themselves in a 
 body and fully armed. 
 
 That same evening the engineers left for the Ionian 
 Islands, with a fortnight's advanced pay, though Lord 
 Byron did his utmost to retain them. 
 
 These troubles left Byron in a very nervous condition. 
 He endeavored however to get on with the Suliots as well 
 as he could, and they, thinking his wealth was exhaustless, 
 daily increased their demands, constantly gathering in 
 crowds under his windows. Finally, he announced that 
 he himself should quit Greece unless these unendurable 
 mountaineers left the city. They were despatched to the 
 east, under the command of Konstantinos Botsaris, but not 
 
332 Andronike 
 
 till the poet had paid them three thousand Spanish dollars 
 out of his own pocket. Such was his mental excitement 
 that, on the fifteenth of February, while he was talking with 
 one of his men, he suffered from an epileptic attack which 
 lasted several hours. 
 
 Carl was returning to his quarters, when Kyra R- — 
 seized his arm. 
 
 " Who was it that opened that letter, Carl ? Was it the 
 lord ? " 
 
 "Yes, Kyra R ." 
 
 " Has that crooked fellow written so many rhymes and 
 led such a life ? He does n't show it. Truly now, where 
 is Kyrios Thrasyboulos ? " 
 
 " In his bed, sick." 
 
 " Sick ! What is the matter with my brother-in-law ? " 
 
 " He was wounded at Carpenesi, and since then does not 
 get any better." 
 
 " Where is he ? " 
 
 " At the serai." 
 
 "Let us go quick and see him. After being treated so, I 
 would have paid him off, but as he is wounded I won't hurt 
 him." 
 
 " You can't see him to-day. He is very sick, and is ex- 
 pecting his betrothed from Zante." 
 
 " His betrothed ! Who is his betrothed ? " 
 
 "Andronike." 
 
 " Andronike ! Holy Mother ! My own betrothed was 
 named Andronikos ! " 
 
 " Your betrothed is his betrothed. Your betrothed was 
 a woman and not a man. You will understand all about it 
 in a few days, Kyra R ." 
 
 " Look here, Carl. Be careful how you joke ! " The 
 Suliot struck Carl a light blow on the waist. 
 
 a I am not joking," said the old Hungarian, with a laugh. 
 
 " Come, let us go to Thrasyboulos." 
 
 " You cannot see him to-day, lady. To-morrow." 
 
 " Go ahead, my little Carl ! I can't see my brother-in- 
 law ! Very well. You have found a woman you can't 
 cheat." Taking his hand, she forced him, willing or un- 
 willing, to direct her to the abode of Thrasyboulos. 
 
Kyra R at Misolonghi 333 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 KYRA R AT MISOLONGHI 
 
 Already about forty days had passed since the veteran 
 Lampros set out to bring Andronike from Ithaca. Andro- 
 nike had at once replied to her lover, saying she expected 
 to leave the island the next day on an Ionian brig with the 
 armatolos direct for Misolonghi. 
 
 Thrasyboulos looked for her daily, but, as time went on, 
 and he heard nothing more, he became terribly uneasy. 
 He knew that the sea between the Ionian Islands and the 
 Grecian mainland was infested by hostile vessels into whose 
 hands Lord Byron came near falling as his friend, Count 
 Gamba, had fallen. He was further disturbed on hearing 
 that his servant Carl was in the company of the Suliot who 
 assassinated Sass. 
 
 While he was grievously ill, and tormented by these 
 
 anxieties, suddenly the door opened noisily, and Kyra R 
 
 burst in and threw herself into his arms. "Kyrios Thra- 
 syboulos ! My Kyrios Thrasyboulos ! My brother-in-law, so 
 terribly wounded ! " 
 
 " Kyra R ! How are you here in Misolonghi ? " he 
 
 muttered, in astonishment. 
 
 "Stop, and I will tell you everything, Kyrios Thra- 
 syboulos. After you left us in the cave, I was tooth and 
 nail with Kyrios Trelawny. Odysseus, who had betrothed 
 him to his sister Tarsitsa, was furious when he saw how 
 much Trelawny preferred me. What did he do, then, as 
 soon as he had the four cannon from Mavrocordatos ? and 
 what cannon ! Holy Mother ! He planted them at the 
 mouth of the cave, where winged devils couldn't get at 
 them. Now how does he treat me ? He takes Gouras and 
 Trelawny, and off he posts to Athens. Ah, Kyrios Thra- 
 syboulos, if you had seen the Englishman ! He wanted to 
 make me his wife, and I had given up all expectation of 
 your brother ; but don't be angry ! You would have heard of 
 me as Lady Trelawny! My nature is like that, and I stand 
 by your brother. Before Kyrios Trelawny left for Athens, he 
 gave me a letter for my Lord Byron ; but what a clown he is ! 
 Ask Carl how he treated me when I gave him the letter I " 
 
334 Andronike 
 
 " And now shall you remain at Misolonghi ? " 
 
 "Indeed I shall! How you have changed! Tell me how 
 you were wounded. I heard of the way you cut the Turks 
 down at Carpenesi." 
 
 Thrasyboulos told Kyra R about the expedition to 
 
 Carpenesi, and afterwards about Andronike and Diamanto, 
 adding that he expected his betrothed every minute. 
 
 At first, Kyra R did not believe him. Then, when 
 
 Thrasyboulos read her part of his long letter, in which An- 
 dronike narrated all her experiences, and described in de- 
 tail her sojourn in the Corycian Cave, Kyra E turned 
 
 red and became thoughtful. She rose and approached one 
 of the windows, where she remained a long time motionless. 
 Afterwards she bade Thrasyboulos good-by, very coldly, and 
 went out and did not return. 
 
 Kyra E was an original character. In her conver- 
 sation, actions, and entire bearing, she was as untutored as 
 running water, utterly ignorant of etiquette or hypocrisy. 
 For a long time she had been hunting a husband. She 
 wanted one who was younger, of better family, better look- 
 ing, and also richer than herself. Any stranger, enjoying 
 these advantages, who came to the Corycian Cave, excited 
 her heart and her desires. Already her hopes of Andro- 
 nikos, Thrasyboulos, and Trelawny had been blasted. She 
 decided to lay siege to Lord Byron. Trelawny had given 
 her such a description of his friend, and represented him 
 as so easily falling in love, that she readily had left the 
 cave with the letter of introduction. She was persuaded 
 that in a few days she would gain the heart and hand of 
 this renowned and most wealthy man. 
 
 Her first reception, as we know, was somewhat cool ; but 
 she was by no means daunted. After some days she re- 
 turned to the dwelling of Lord Byron. The tragic death of 
 Lieutenant Sass, and the disorders of the Suliots, had made 
 him sick, and he received nobody. His servant Fletcher 
 politely conducted her to the apartments of Housei'na. 
 
 This House'ina was the mother of the beautiful Hadijeh, 
 the little girl, eight years old, for whom Lord Byron showed 
 so much compassion. Most of the child's family had been 
 slaughtered. Lord Byron called her his adopted daughter, 
 and intended to send her to England to be brought up by 
 his sister Lady Augusta, and to become the companion of 
 his own daughter Ada. 
 
The Death of Lord Byron 335 
 
 In these apartments were then about twenty other Otto- 
 man women of all ages and several of great beauty. They 
 had that day come to entreat the lord to use his influence 
 with the Greek authorities, so they might be allowed to 
 leave Misolonghi, where they were in constant terror of 
 falling victims to the first disturbance. 
 
 " And do you mean that my lord has a harem like this ? " 
 shouted the Suliot, as soon as she had glanced at the com- 
 pany of Ottoman women. " Who is your hanoum here ? " 
 she asked. Houseina arose, and begged her to speak more 
 softly, as Lord Byron was somewhat ill. 
 
 " I would rather remain unmarried all my days than to 
 have to do with an English clown who has a harem of thirty 
 Turkish women. Shame to the man ! " 
 
 Casting a contemptuous look at the Ottoman ladies, who 
 resembled frightened doves in the presence of a vulture, she 
 went out and soon returned, greatly disappointed, to the 
 Corycian Cave. 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE DEATH OP LORD BYRON 
 
 Through Trelawny, Odysseus was trying to attach Byron 
 to his party. Finally he recognized that he could in no 
 way draw the noble philhellene from Misolonghi. Then, 
 since he had a strong desire to make his acquaintance, for the 
 loan agreed upon in England was soon to arrive in Greece, 
 he sent urgent letters from Trelawny, inviting both Mavro- 
 cordatos and Byron to attend the congress at Salona. 
 
 The object of this conference was to reconcile the leaders 
 of eastern and western Greece. Thus, means might be 
 devised for uniting in one all factions, for extinguishing 
 strife in the Peloponnesus, and for checking the formidable 
 expedition of the Egyptian Ibrahim. 
 
 Lord Byron had somewhat improved, and had begun to 
 take short rides on horseback, when other political troubles 
 again disturbed his health, and forced him back to his bed. 
 When the letters came, he and Mavrocordatos determined 
 to set out for Salona as soon as the former should be in 
 better health. 
 
336 Andronike 
 
 The state of Lord Byron continually improved ; but he 
 was so eccentric and hypochondriac from weakness as to 
 become almost unbearable to those about him. He re- 
 sembled a badly brought up and quarrelsome boy. He 
 himself felt this, and very often asked pardon from those 
 he maltreated. Nothing could he enjoy but horseback 
 riding, which seemed beneficial to his health. 
 
 On the ninth of April, he mounted his horse and rode 
 out from Misolonghi. He was very serious, and preoccupied 
 by reflections on the projected congress, and many other 
 schemes. 
 
 He had already gone a long distance from the city walls, 
 when the sky began to grow black, and a light rain to fall. 
 
 His head was bowed on his breast, so he paid no atten- 
 tion, although his horse changed his slow gait to a gallop 
 on account of the heavy thunder. In a little while the 
 rain became more violent, and soon fell in torrents. The 
 poet then turned and galloped back toward Misolonghi. 
 
 Meanwhile fickle April suddenly shone out with the sun 
 of spring. The rain ceased, and the drenched form of Lord 
 Byron felt a delicious sensation in the lukewarm rays of 
 the afternoon. 
 
 He returned to his dwelling with the same slow step 
 with which he had left it some hours before. His clothing 
 had dried on his feeble body. 
 
 That same evening some friends came into his room. 
 They found him stretched upon the divan, suffering from 
 fever and slight pain in the joints. At first he was rather 
 cheerful, but by degrees became thoughtful and silent. 
 
 " What are you thinking about, my lord ? Why are you 
 so melancholy ? " the physician asked. 
 
 "Nothing. Only about a prophecy which a gypsy made 
 me when I was a boy." 
 
 "Beally! What was it ? " 
 
 "When we were in Scotland, my mother, who had great 
 confidence in chiromancy and astrology, asked a gypsy 
 famous for his predictions what my future would be. After 
 he had carefully examined the palm of my hand, he looked 
 at me, and with an impressive voice said, ' Look out, young 
 lord, for your thirty-seventh year. Look out ! ' Now to tell 
 you the truth, gentlemen, it is difficult for a man to know 
 what he must believe and what he must not believe. I 
 have had so many reasons for dying before my time, and 
 
The Death of Lord Byron 337 
 
 so many reasons on the other hand for not dying. For 
 example, although you will laugh, I look upon Friday and 
 Saturday as unlucky days. Up to the present, anything I 
 have undertaken on those days has never turned out well. 
 But I do not judge by my own presentiments alone. Think 
 of my friend Shelley. How many times did he say to me, ' I 
 shall die in the water/ and was he not buried a little while 
 ago in the waves of the sea ? " 
 
 His guests looked at each other, and said nothing in 
 opposition to his ideas, fearing they should excite his suffer- 
 ing nervous system. They only changed the conversation, 
 and soon withdrew to leave him to rest. 
 
 He slept a heavy sleep, drenched in perspiration and 
 parched by burning fever. 
 
 On the following day he suffered from pain in the bones 
 and back of his head. Nevertheless he did not abstain 
 from taking another ride on horseback. 
 
 On returning, he felt worse, for his saddle was damp from 
 the shower of the day before. Again he slept a feverish 
 sleep, and the next day his disease assumed a more serious 
 character. 
 
 Dr Bruno wished to bleed him, but he refused with aver- 
 sion, and his faithful Fletcher ran for Dr. Millingen. 
 
 That physician also came and made the same proposal, 
 though in a milder and gentler way. 
 
 "I am not willing," Lord Byron replied angrily. "Of 
 all my prejudices, my strongest is against bleeding. My 
 mother, when she was dying, made me swear at her death- 
 bed that I would never be bled. And then does not Dr 
 Reid himself say in his essays that less slaughter is ef- 
 fected by the lance than the lancet, that minute instrument 
 of mighty mischief ? " 
 
 " Your observations, my lord, apply to those who have a 
 relaxed nervous system, but not to those who are suffering 
 from inflammation," the physician insisted. 
 
 " And who are nervous, if I am not ? Do you think that 
 your words do not apply to me ? Bleeding a nervous per- 
 son is the same thing as unstringing a musical instrument 
 whose tones are already half extinct from lack of the neces- 
 sary vibrations. Before I am sick enough for that, you 
 will realize in what an excitable condition I am. If you 
 bleed me, you will surely kill me. Do with me as you will, 
 only do not bleed me. I have had many inflammations and 
 
 22 
 
338 Andronike 
 
 fevers in my life, and especially in my youth, when I was 
 more robust and had a quantity of blood, but I got well with- 
 out bleeding. This time also I will follow my s} r stem." 
 
 The two physicians looked at each other ; they exchanged 
 a few words in a low tone, and then spoke again. "My 
 lord, will you give us one promise ? * 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " That if to-morrow you are worse, you will not hesitate 
 longer to be bled." 
 
 "Very well, I promise. Still I hope I shall be better," 
 Lord Byron said with a sarcastic smile, closing his eyes. 
 Soon afterward lie added, "Doctor, I am afraid they have 
 given me the evil eye. Upon your life, see if there is not 
 some ugly old witch who can come and examine me. I am 
 sure that some one has given me the evil eye." 
 
 " My lord, you confuse me and make me laugh." 
 
 " Very well. Laugh as much as you want to, but to- 
 morrow bring me the best known witch. I want to see 
 if my sudden sickness is not really from sorcery." 
 
 The physicians withdrew. 
 
 " Fletcher." 
 
 "My lord." 
 
 " I am afraid those doctors do not understand my disease." 
 
 " My lord, then get the opinion of another doctor. Let 
 me send at once to Ithaca for Dr Thomas. He knows 
 your constitution, and he tended you such a long time at 
 Malta. Besides he understands the climate of Misolonghi 
 much better than these people do." 
 
 "No, not yet. They tell me that I have taken cold, that 
 it is a simple cold like those that have a thousand times 
 attacked my life." 
 
 " My lord, I have been with you twenty years, but I do 
 not remember any such cold," replied the faithful servant. 
 
 " Neither do I, Fletcher. my God, how hot I am ! " 
 
 He took the medicines which the physicians had pre- 
 scribed, and slept more easily that night. 
 
 Dr. Millingen returned early next day. He brought w T ith 
 him a witch whom he had told just w T hat to say, but, seeing 
 that Byron had forgotten, did not bring her in. 
 
 " Ali ! I am much better to-day, doctor ! A little while 
 ago Dr Bruno was here and he saw that there is no need 
 of my being bled." . 
 
 " Will you give me your pulse, my lord ? " 
 
The Death of Lord Byron 339 
 
 " See ! Am I not much better ? " 
 
 The doctor took the pulse with one hand, and held his 
 watch in the other. He counted the beats, and his face 
 became very grave. 
 
 " How do you find me, doctor ? " 
 
 " A. little better. What afflicts me so profoundly, my 
 lord, is that you are playing so carelessly with your life." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Your incomprehensible aversion to bleeding has made 
 us lose much precious time. We only hoped to prolong 
 your life for a few hours, my lord, and I do not undertake 
 to guarantee even them, unless you permit us to bleed 
 you at once. Neither Dr Bruno nor I are responsible for 
 the consequences. You will tell me that you do not care 
 for your life. That is true, but who can guarantee that 
 your disease shall bring immediate death ? It may suddenly 
 change its course and attack some other part. It can bring 
 paralysis of the brain, and you may lose your reason." 
 
 " What do you mean, doctor ? " said Byron, half rising. 
 His weakness or rather his prejudice seemed cured at 
 once. " That I shall go mad ? I know that I can kill 
 myself as soon as I know that I am going in that direction. 
 Come on, however," he added angrily. "Here is my arm, 
 you devilish butchers ! Take as much blood as you like, 
 but have done with it. Did I not tell you a thousand 
 times that I should die in my thirty-seventh year ? Now 
 don't you believe the gypsies ? " 
 
 His blood was very dark, and the bleeding brought little 
 alleviation. On the contrary, his fever increased the follow- 
 ing night and his strength diminished. 
 
 Next day he was bled twice more in the morning and 
 once in the afternoon. " He was so faint," says Fletcher, 
 " that he would have fallen to the floor, if I had not held 
 him in my arms." 
 
 " Keep wet cloths constantly on his head," said the doc- 
 tor to Fletcher, " and poultices at his feet." 
 
 " Must they be put at both feet ? " Byron asked. 
 
 "On the inside above the knees," added the physician, 
 smiling. 
 
 "Very well — While I live, I will not permit any man 
 to see my lame foot," cried the sick man, forcing a smile to 
 his pale lips. 
 
 " I can't sleep, Fletcher, and you know that I have not 
 
340 Andronike 
 
 closed my eyes for many nights. I am not afraid to die. I 
 am ready, more ready than many think." 
 
 " No fear about that, my lord," said the wretched Fletcher, 
 with a breaking heart. 
 
 The following day a consultation was held between his 
 two physicians and Drs Loucas Baias and Freiber. Their 
 opinions did not agree, but after much discussion Drs 
 Bruno and Bai'as prevailed, and an antispasmodic potion 
 was given him. 
 
 " Your efforts to save my life are in vain, I am afraid. I 
 must die. I feel it. I am not sorry. I came to Greece to 
 die. My property, my mental powers, my all, I have con- 
 secrated to her. Let me entreat one favor of you. Do not 
 permit my remains to be carried to England. Let my 
 bones decay here. Let them bury me in the first corner of 
 Greek land, without pomp or tumult." 
 
 A little while afterwards, turning to his servant, he said, 
 " I am afraid, my poor Fletcher, that you will be ill from 
 sitting up night and day." 
 
 " I shall not leave you, my lord, until you are better. 
 But I beseech you, my lord, let me send to Ithaca for Dr 
 Thomas." 
 
 " Send, but send quick. I am sorry that I did not let 
 you send sooner. I am sure these physicians here do not 
 know what is the matter with me." 
 
 Fletcher went out. He fulfilled his master's order, after 
 informing the other physicians, and then returned to the 
 chamber. 
 
 " Have you sent, Fletcher ? " 
 
 '•'Yes, my lord." 
 
 " You have done right, for I should like to know what is 
 the matter with me. I have begun to be afraid that I am 
 pretty sick. Probably I shall die suddenly, Fletcher. So 
 I wish to give you certain directions, which I believe you 
 will follow with your usual faithfulness." 
 
 " My lord, this is only your idea. There is no danger." 
 
 "No ! no ! I have got almost to the end. I must tell you 
 everything without losing time." 
 
 " Let me run for paper and ink, my lord," said Fletcher, 
 terrified at the pallor which spread over the wasted face. 
 
 "No! no! my God! You will lose time. We haven't 
 time. I am close to my end, Fletcher. Hark! Listen ! My 
 poor, beloved child ! My darling Ada ! my God, if I 
 
All Things Meet Except the Mountains 341 
 
 could only see her ! Give her my blessing, and to my dear 
 sister Augusta and to her children. Go to my wife, Lady 
 Byron, and say — say to her something, you know. You 
 and she are friends ! " 
 
 Lord Byron was here terribly moved, and lay gasping. 
 
 " I have not understood a single one of your last words, 
 my lord." 
 
 " My God ! Then all I have said is lost. Is it possible 
 that you don't understand me ? " 
 
 " No, my lord, I entreat you to repeat once more that 
 last sentence." 
 
 " It is too late." 
 
 " It is not too late. Your forgiveness, master." 
 
 " God's forgiveness and not mine. Shall I ask forgive- 
 ness ? Forward ! No cowardice ! Let me be a man to the 
 end." 
 
 Lord Byron tried to say more, but could not. Only from 
 time to time issued from his teeth the words: "My wife! 
 My daughter! My sister! Greece! You know all. You 
 know my feelings." 
 
 His last sentences were unintelligible. Finally he added, 
 with a groan, " Now I must sleep." 
 
 " From that moment," says Fletcher, " he did not awake 
 nor move hand or foot for the space of twenty-four hours, 
 although at intervals he strangled for breath, so I was com- 
 pelled to raise his head. About six o'clock on Easter 
 Monday, the nineteenth of April, my master opened his 
 eyes, and then closed them at once without any sign of 
 pain. <0 my God!' I cried, bursting into tears, 'I am 
 afraid my master is dead.' " 
 
 The physician took Byron's wrist, and said, with indiffer- 
 ence, " You are telling the truth." 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 ALL THINGS MEET EXCEPT THE MOUNTAINS 
 
 The death of Lord Byron produced sincere grief among 
 all classes of the inhabitants of Misolonghi and of all 
 Greece. In so short a time to lose the centre of their hopes 
 was an unspeakable and irreparable calamity, — a calamity 
 which the Greeks both realized and lamented more and 
 
342 Andronike 
 
 more. The idea that death had removed him before he 
 had begun the accomplishment of his philhellenic plans 
 appeared so sinister an omen as to bring paralyzing dis- 
 couragement on some of those who were directing the storm- 
 tossed and struggling Ship of State. 
 
 The markets and public buildings were closed. All 
 amusements ceased. Mourning was universally worn for 
 twenty-one days. In the churches and religious houses 
 prayers were offered for the repose of his soul. The bat- 
 teries of the forts fired thirty-seven funeral guns, one for 
 each year of his life. 
 
 Edward Trelawny, the bosom friend of Lord Byron, 
 arrived while Misolonghi was plunged in affliction. 
 
 Thrasyboulos, meanwhile, was confined to his bed, and in 
 the greatest distress, because his betrothed did not appear. 
 As he had received no letter for two and a half months, he 
 wanted to go himself to the Ionian Islands as soon as he 
 gained a little strength. The death of Lord Byron had 
 given him an additional shock. 
 
 " What is the matter with you, my friend ? " Trelawny 
 exclaimed, on his first visit, thunderstruck at the change 
 in his face. 
 
 " I am utterly wretched. I was wounded eight months 
 ago, and the physicians cannot cure me. They prevent the 
 closing of the wound, they say, so as not to be obliged to 
 cut off my leg. How are Odysseus and his family, and 
 Gouras ? " 
 
 "Well enough. We are in this world only to suffer. 
 Who could have believed that poor Byron would have died 
 so soon ? " 
 
 "A national calamity, Mr Trelawny. Greece never can 
 shed enough tears for his memory. It is the mysterious 
 will of Heaven." 
 
 " While I was sealing his papers I read many of his letters 
 from England. They all said that nothing but his name 
 caused the Greek loan to be made so quickly, and that on 
 his account a multitude of Englishmen are on their way 
 here. I am sure, Kyrios Thrasyboulos, that when they 
 learn of his death, they will return to their native country." 
 
 (i The loss to the nation is immense. It is a strange fact 
 that our greatest disasters always fall on us at Easter. On 
 Easter, 1821, they hanged the patriarch Gregory and his 
 Synod. On Easter, in 1822, Scio was destroyed ; and now, 
 
All Things Meet Except the Mountains 313 
 
 during Easter, we lose such a hero ! Before his death, he 
 expressed the wish to be buried here. Why, then, is his 
 body to be removed to England ? " 
 
 " Fletcher heard him say that he wished to be buried 
 here. I, too, think the Parthenon is the fittest place in 
 which to inter the dust of the most gifted child of Parnas- 
 sus. But Lord Byron belongs to the great men of England. 
 The people worship him, though the government and the 
 priesthood have little love for him. His bones must be 
 committed to the tombs of his ancestors. Here a single 
 mischance might place them in the hands of your barbarous 
 enemies, and then ! But we have kept his heart at Miso- 
 longhi and the Greeks weep over it." 
 
 "You recommended Kyra R to him, but I hear he 
 
 did not receive her in a very friendly way.'"' 
 
 " That is true, but I had forgotten it. A strange woman 
 
 is Kyra R . Though I am betrothed to the daughter of 
 
 Odysseus, she took it into her head to prevent my marriage. 
 She descended to such tricks that I was compelled to tell 
 Odysseus. However, he knows her and thinks she is half 
 crazy, so he did not care. Still, in order to get rid of her, 
 one day I hit upon the idea of sending, her with a descrip- 
 tive letter to Lord Byron. He did not welcome her very 
 warmly. He was in one of his unapproachable moods. 
 
 My betrothed wrote me that Kyra R returned to the 
 
 Cave very angry at me, and thirsting for revenge, and accus- 
 ing Lord Byron of keeping a harem." 
 
 " Bravo for the Suliot ! " Thrasyboulos then narrated 
 to Trelawny his own misfortunes and those of Andronike, 
 with whom Kyra R had fallen in love. 
 
 Edward Trelawny burst into a loud laugh. " What you 
 tell me about Kyra R is like a novel. The masquerad- 
 ing among the stalactites of the Corycian Cave, and the 
 Suliot's making passionate love to a woman, form a first- 
 class comedy." 
 
 " Kyrios Thrasyboulos ! To your health ! " At the same 
 moment the door opened and a man appeared, dressed in 
 European style. 
 
 Thrasyboulos fixed his eyes on him. There was some- 
 thing familiar about his face, but he could not recall his 
 name. 
 
 " And where is Kyria Andronike ? " 
 
 " Will you favor me with your name, my dear sir ? I 
 
344 /± ndron ike 
 
 know you, but I cannot recall your name," Thrasyboulos 
 added. 
 
 " Kyrios Lampikis. Do you remember the snuff-box of 
 your sainted uncle ? " 
 
 " Yes ! Yes, indeed ! Come here ! " and Thrasyboulos 
 clasped him in his arms. From the letter of his betrothed 
 he knew all Lampikis had done for her. 
 
 "I did not recognize you because you are dressed in 
 European clothes. Have you come from Ithaca ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And where is my betrothed and Lampros ? " 
 
 " Your betrothed and Lampros ! Are they not in Miso- 
 longhi? They left Ithaca two months ago on the brig 
 ' Hermilios.' " 
 
 " Two months ago ! O my God ! Surely I am fated to 
 soon hear of some new disaster," cried Thrasyboulos. 
 
 " Probably contrary winds have driven them to the 
 Peloponnesus." 
 
 " Probably they have fallen into the hands of the Turks," 
 said Thrasyboulos, with horror. Kyrios Lampikis and 
 Mr Trelawny tried to comfort him, but their words had 
 no effect. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE CIVIL WARS 
 
 When Andronike saw the veteran Lampros appear before 
 her in reply to her letter, her joy and surprise knew no 
 bounds. 
 
 How often, when looking back upon the past, she had 
 thought of the faithful armatolos whose sword saved her 
 at Therm opylse. 
 
 Lampros himself, finding Andronike in her woman's 
 dress taller, handsomer, and more majestic than before, 
 stood a long time with open eyes admiring her, and unable 
 to utter a word. Finally he narrated all he knew about 
 her lover. 
 
 Andronike, without loss of time, embarked on the brig 
 " Hermilios," a Greek vessel, though flying the Ionian flag, to 
 cross to Misolonghi. They weighed anchor at evening. At 
 
The Civil Wars 345 
 
 daybreak they made out the land indistinctly, but at the 
 same time perceived two Turkish frigates on the starboard. 
 
 On board the brig were the captain's family, as well 
 as many passengers. Instead of improving the favorable 
 wind he would have by proceeding toward the gulf of 
 Patras, and continuing his voyage to its end, the captain was 
 panic-stricken, and, altering his course, struck out for the 
 open sea. The Turks at once began a chase. 
 
 The loan anticipated from England had created so much 
 excitement among the Mussulmans that they were on the 
 watch for it with even more impatience than the Suliots. 
 So their vessels had been sent in every direction where it 
 was thought likely it would pass. When the vessel of 
 Andronike suddenly changed its course, the captains of the 
 two frigates felt sure that this was the ship with the treas- 
 ure. So they pursued it closely as far as Malta, in the 
 harbor of which it found refuge. Then the frigates re- 
 mained out of sight behind the island for a few days, and 
 when the " Hermilios" came out, again began pursuit. This 
 time the vessel entered the Adriatic, and, eluding its pur- 
 suers, escaped to Trieste. 
 
 From there Lampros proposed embarking on an Austrian 
 vessel. Andronike, however, thought it was better to lose 
 time and to stay on the ship, where, as the family of the 
 captain was on board, they would naturally feel somewhat 
 safer, than to trust the Austrians or other foreigners. 
 Austria was then as hostile to the Greek insurrection as 
 were the Turks. 
 
 Her impatience and anxiety gave her no rest, but what 
 could she do ? So near Thrasyboulos, and yet her evil 
 fortune was again sending her far from him! At least in 
 Trieste she had the joy of seeing once more Diamanto and 
 Pantelis and Kyria Phrancoulis. The pleasure of being 
 with them somewhat alleviated her distress. 
 
 Eight long months after leaving Ithaca, the vessel once 
 more entered a Greek port, and anchored in the harbor of 
 Navarino. Erom there it expected to sail in a short time 
 for Misolonghi. Andronike was so weary of the sea, and 
 was so near her birthplace, that she preferred to cross 
 overland to the Isthmus of Corinth, and thence to pass to 
 Misolonghi, rather than continue her voyage. So she and 
 Lampros hired horses in Navarino and went on towards 
 Demetzana. 
 
346 Andronike 
 
 Those months, during which she was far from the centre 
 of politics and war, had greatly changed the condition of 
 affairs. 
 
 The Peloponnesus was then the most pitiable region of 
 Greek territory. One would have thought that the pur- 
 pose of the insurrection had miscarried, for on the public 
 stage were to be seen no men except such as had forgotten 
 the common enemy, and with mad passion were seeking 
 each one to overthrow the other. 
 
 In the Peloponnesus, only a few Turks were left, and 
 three or four fortresses were held by them. But who 
 thought of driving them out, and of taking defensive meas- 
 ures against the threatening expedition of Ibrahim Pasha ? 
 One man depended upon the English to lead us, another upon 
 the French, and a third the Russians. One wanted to 
 undermine all and place the crown on his own head, and 
 another, the most ignoble, schemed to appropriate the loan 
 which was being sent from abroad to help in the struggle. 
 
 Wealth, power, and promotion intoxicated, so to speak, 
 those formerly simple men ; each, while prating about 
 patriotism, nationality, liberty, was working only for his 
 own advancement. 
 
 The Roumeliot Greeks entered the Peloponnesus, and 
 perpetrated enormities which left lasting impressions on 
 the people's memory. They stole, plundered, and outraged. 
 There was no atrocity they did not commit. 
 
 Such being the general condition of lawlessness and 
 disorder, Andronike could not advance far into Peloponne- 
 sus. All the defiles, the beaten paths and bridges, were in 
 the hands of one faction or the other, and the difficulty and 
 danger were much greater than if held by the enemy. 
 
 " What have we done, Lampros ? Now we shall never 
 reach Misolonghi." 
 
 " Lady, let us go back to Navarino, and with a caique set 
 out again for Misolonghi. Oh, these Roumeliots ! A Turk 
 is a gentleman compared with these dogs ! " 
 
 " We are not far from Demetzana. Let us sleep there, 
 and if we cannot go by land, then very early to-morrow we 
 will return to Navarino." 
 
 "Yes, lady, if we can, but if one has an onion in his 
 girdle, the Roumeliots will shoot him to get it." 
 
 The day was already declining, when they caught the 
 first indistinct view of the city of Demetzana, Its three 
 
The Civil Wars 347 
 
 hundred and fifty houses, built on a conical hill, along the 
 side of which the narrow road is seen winding zigzag, occupy 
 one of the most charming situations which the traveller can 
 meet in the Peloponnesus. As he advances, he hears the 
 soothing ripple of its crystal fountains, tributaries of the 
 Erymanthus. The river is spanned by a stone bridge of 
 modern but daring construction. 
 
 At a few minutes' distance from the bridge, they met a 
 Roumeliot, armed to the teeth with costly weapons but 
 wearing dirty and ragged clothes. 
 
 Andronike had covered her face with her veil as she was 
 about to enter the city, and fixed her eyes straight before 
 her. 
 
 " Where are you going with the lady ? " the fellow boldly 
 said to Lampros, who rode close at her side. 
 
 u To Demetzana," he replied dryly. 
 
 "One can't find a crumb down there. It seems to me, I 
 say, that you have a pretty sultana on horseback." 
 
 At the same time he hastened his gait, trying to keep up 
 with the horses that, on account of the bad pavement, 
 could not go fast. 
 
 Lampros and Andronike laid their hands on their arms. 
 
 " Will you hire me, I say, to show you the way ? Where 
 can you stop at Demetzana unless some one shows you the 
 way ? My lady, you are as sweet as an Albanian. Look 
 here, I say, have you any money with you ? Give me what 
 you like, I say, and I won't follow you." 
 
 Both kept on without answering. Lampros followed him 
 with his eye, ready to fall upon him if he saw a sign of 
 violence. 
 
 " What are you looking at, I say ? At my moustache ! 
 Look, if you want to." Suddenly breaking off his conversa- 
 tion, " Here, you Wallachian, stop a moment," he shouted 
 in a thundering voice to an old peasant who was passing 
 near by, and carried a basket of eggs and a chicken in his 
 hand. 
 
 The old man stopped in terror, pulled off his cap, and 
 trembled from head to foot at the sight of the vagabond. 
 
 " Wallachian ! What will you sell that chicken for ? " 
 
 The Peloponnesian at once understood that his property 
 was not safe from such a hawk, and said in his terror, "It 
 was a chicken, my lord, and grew to be a hen." 
 
 "You don't understand me, godfather. I asked you. 
 
348 Andronike 
 
 what is the price ? The price ! The price, I say ! And 
 how much are the eggs ? Tell me, the eggs, you Walla- 
 chian !" Then, seizing his weapons, he dealt the peasant a 
 violent blow on the back. The poor fellow let his basket 
 fall, and began to moan and curse; but his complaints 
 made no impression on the ruffian, who seized the fowl, and 
 with indifference continued on his way toward the city. 
 
 Several persons came from the neighborhood to the "aid of 
 the peasant. Andronike and Lampros stopped and threw 
 him a piece of money, — the greatest consolation one could 
 offer in such a case. 
 
 One hour afterwards they rode into Demetzana. 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE POLITICAL IDEAS OF THAT DAY 
 
 That night Andronike learned much about the civil war. 
 She became convinced that the wretched Peloponnesus was, 
 without exaggeration, in a more deplorable state than during 
 the worst days of Turkish despotism. 
 
 She stayed with relatives of Thrasyboulos, who wel- 
 comed her warmly. The next day before sunrise she went 
 out eagerly to visit those charming fields which had wit- 
 nessed the innocent and careless life of her childhood. 
 Memory brought back with vivid colors all the mingled 
 sweetness and bitterness of her youth. 
 
 Lampros was well acquainted with the story of her life. 
 His high head was bowed upon his breast, and he respect- 
 fully remained a few steps behind as they approached the 
 ruins of the tower. 
 
 "There, there, Lampros ! " she said with agitation, when, 
 on climbing the crest of the hill, she saw below her burned 
 and roofless home. " There, my father and brother were 
 murdered and left unburied ! " She sat down on the 
 ground and wept bitterly. 
 
 " Ah, Kyrios Barthakas," said the armatolos, with a groan, 
 " won't the waves ever bring you into my hands ? Such a 
 vile jackal to cause the death of so many men! The more 
 I think of it, lady, the crazier I grow that I did not know 
 
The Political Ideas of that Day 349 
 
 him at Patras. Ah, Kyrios Barthakas, let your fate throw 
 you once more into my clutches ! " 
 
 "Come, Lampros," said Andronike, rising and leading 
 the way toward the abandoned garden. 
 
 They descended to the tower. It had become the haunt 
 of crows and carrion birds, which darkened the sky and 
 filled the air with their savage croaking as soon as they 
 heard the steps of human beings. A thought, which in an 
 instant froze the blood in her veins, flashed through the 
 mind of Andronike. She realized that those slain there 
 three and a half years before had first attracted that swarm 
 of birds. In fact, on advancing, she found some bare and 
 whitened bones not far from the place where she had seen 
 her father and brother fall. She realized that these must 
 be the remains of her own family. Who, during that awful 
 period, thought of giving burial to another ? 
 
 Lanipros helped her collect the bones. "Come," she 
 soon said, hardening her heart. 
 
 They left the tower and went to the place where her 
 most precious possessions were hidden. 
 
 " Do you see that tree ? " 
 
 "Yes, lady." 
 
 " Mark it well." 
 
 "Yes, lady." 
 
 " Make a mark with your knife. Cut three deep crosses." 
 
 " I have done it." 
 
 "Now come." 
 
 " But what does this mean, lady ? " 
 
 "Never mind. You will learn sometime. I may have 
 to send you here some day. Now come and help me carry 
 these bones to the top of Saint Elias." 
 
 " As you please, lady." 
 
 Towards noon Andronike, likeiEneas, carrying the bones 
 of her father and brother, reached the top of the mountain. 
 She kept on, although feeling sure that she would no longer 
 find the aged hermit, the relic of that bloody insurrection of 
 1769. 
 
 Suddenly she heard a hoarse barking. Soon she perceived 
 at the door the venerable man, holding a rope at the end of 
 which an immense white dog was tied. Andronike recog- 
 nized Papazoglou ; but the hermit was now deaf and blind. 
 
 " Do you remember me, father ? " she cries. 
 
 " Who are you ? " 
 
350 Andronike 
 
 " The daughter of the demogeront Athanasiades. Do you 
 not remember, three and a half years ago, after I had es- 
 caped from the Laliots, how you told me about the first 
 insurrection ? " 
 
 "Yes, yes," said the old man, turning his closed and 
 sightless eyes toward her ; and he folded her in his arms, 
 with emotion. 
 
 " My daughter, my Greece will soon be free. Night and 
 day I pray the Lord that I may not die before I see it free. 
 I learn from the passers-by, at intervals, of the progress of 
 the insurrection, the heroisms of our brethren, and the 
 slaughter of the Turks. The joy which I feel renews my 
 youth and prolongs my life." 
 
 "But now, venerable father, we have fallen into civil war, 
 which is likely to destroy all that our dead heroes have 
 gained with toil and fatigue." 
 
 "Do not fear. The linger of the Lord is upon us, let 
 men do as they will. You are young. You will live 
 longer than I, and you will see that God somehow, how- 
 ever the future now appears, will deliver and restore this 
 nation." 
 
 Andronike related what had happened to her and to 
 Thrasyboulos, to meet whom she was going to Misolonghi. 
 
 The hermit found in each event a purpose of divine 
 Providence. When conversation turned to Europe, which 
 with indifference witnessed the crimes of barbarism and took 
 no action in behalf of the Christians, he said, "Woe, my 
 daughter, to whoever expects other nations to form a country 
 for him ! One who has not lived in Europe cannot judge the 
 Europeans. Few people know our sufferings, because few 
 take the trouble to study the history of these distant coun- 
 tries. Those who are acquainted with them, do not bring 
 them to the light, or else describe them as best suits their own 
 interest. When the question is about one's interest, the 
 voice of philanthropy, of the weak, of the poor, is drowned. 
 Let us not expect our liberty from England or France or 
 Russia. We ourselves must acquire it, or compel them, 
 willing or unwilling, to let us have it." 
 
 "But, my father, how is it possible that Russia, which 
 excited the other insurrection, and sent you here in 1769, 
 can act heartlessly as she is acting to-day ? " 
 
 " The policy of Russia, my child, is mysterious and pro- 
 found. Before she moves, Russia neither betrays her plan, 
 
The Political Ideas of that Day 351 
 
 nor hurries nor boasts; but none can hinder her arriving 
 where she has set her will. She loves us, since we have the 
 same religion ; but, because of the Holy Alliance, she cannot 
 openly take our part without coming into collision with 
 Western Europe. Her present policy will blind her enemies, 
 and enable her in the end to give us more substantial aid. 
 Have not our people, when escaping destitute from massacre, 
 found in Russia protection, refuge, comfort, and often 
 position and high dignities ? Is not Russia the only nation 
 which protested against the slaughter of our priests in Con- 
 stantinople ? Did she not recall her ambassador last year, 
 and threaten war upon the sultan, thus giving us opportunity 
 to terminate what we had begun ? Yet there is one other 
 truth, my daughter. Though she pities us, and sympathizes 
 with us, and desires the improvement of our condition, she 
 never will- permit us utterly to crush the Turk and plant 
 our flag on Sancta Sophia. Then we should be encroaching 
 on the boundaries of her ambition, or rather of her future. 
 Russia wishes to reach the Mediterranean, for then she 
 would be the ruler of the world. Therefore she never will 
 allow us to ascend the throne of Byzas. Now, while the Turk 
 is writhing on his death-bed, we must gain the good will of 
 other states, so they may build up something which Eussia 
 does not desire, and which may serve as their bulwark 
 against Russia herself. England and France will aid us in 
 our ambitions, when they see in our union, our patience, our 
 love to each other, those principles requisite to form a 
 healthy and strong people. Woe to us, if we show any 
 marked preference for Russia ! Then they would prefer the 
 Turk, and seek to prolong his days." 
 
 "It is all true, father. Would that we all might under- 
 stand matters like your holiness." 
 
 After some further conversation, the aged hermit rose, and, 
 granting the prayer of the young woman, chanted some burial 
 psalms over the bones of her father and brother. Then they 
 buried them in the little chapel of Saint Elias. 
 
 On the following day they bade their host good-by, and 
 returned to Demetzana. 
 
 " What a wise man, lady, that old hermit is ! How he 
 did preach about the troubles in the Morea, and the tricks 
 of France and England and Russia ! " 
 
 u Do you know who he is, Lampros ? " 
 
 "TSTo, lady." 
 
352 Andronike 
 
 " Have you ever heard of Papazoglou, who fought in the 
 first insurrection ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed, both Papazoglou and Orloff and Elphin stone ! 
 I have seen them. I was then on the mountains with my 
 parents, a boy ten years old." 
 
 " Should you know Papazoglou if you saw him now ? " 
 
 " No, lady. Why, that was fifty -four years ago ! " 
 
 " That hermit, Lampros, is Papazoglou." 
 
 "Is it possible, lady? Why! Why! Why! Is that 
 Papazoglou ! Such a long time ago ! How can such a little 
 bit of a man give such good advice ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 ON THE OUTSIDE 
 
 After quitting the hermit of Saint Elias, they hired 
 horses at a large price for Calamata. The guide was a 
 Maniat, and followed on foot. He was so plainly a ruffian 
 that at their first stopping place, Tripolitsa, Lampros took 
 his mistress aside and advised her to get rid of him. 
 
 Andronike followed the warning, and, after generously 
 paying the guide, dismissed him, saying she might remain 
 several days in Tripolitsa. The man carefully watched 
 their proceedings. 
 
 The next evening the two travellers left the city with 
 fresh horses, and rode all night. At dawn they found them- 
 selves at a steep ascent entirely new to Lampros, though he 
 thought himself acquainted with every stone in the Morea. 
 
 " See here, fellow ! Where are you taking us ? This is 
 not the road to Calamata," he cried to the guide. 
 
 «We have made a little turn, effendi, so as to be safe. 
 All the road is full of goblins." 
 
 Lampros turned his head in every direction, rose in his 
 saddle to get a better view, and grew still more uneasy on 
 being unable to make out where they were going. On 
 reaching the summit of the opposite hill he cried out in 
 excitement, "You wretched Wallachian ! You are taking 
 us to Mistra! Yes, you fool! I see the Eurotas there 
 below ! " 
 
 " Yes, effendi." 
 
On the Outside 353 
 
 " To Mistra," said Andronike, who could hardly open her 
 eyes from drowsiness. 
 
 "Who told you, cursed Wallachian, to bring us here? 
 What do you mean? Look out, I say, or I will crack 
 your head like a nut ! " and he drew his yataghan. 
 
 " No, lady ! No, effendi ! I only did it so as to escape 
 the goblins." 
 
 "The goblins," repeated Andronike, and she fastened 
 her eyes on the guide. He was of ordinary height, slender 
 built, and his little eyes were half closed. A treacherous 
 disposition seemed hidden under that stupid face. 
 
 " As soon as we came to the first cross-road outside of 
 Tripolitsa I saw, plain as the hair of my head, dead Turks 
 with green cloaks, white turbans, and great red slippers on 
 the road to Neocastro. Thousands of dogs were following 
 them." At the same moment the guide made the sign of 
 the cross. 
 
 " Truly," stammered Lampros, making the same sign. 
 
 " At that same cross-road, lady, after we took Tripolitsa, 
 about a thousand Turks were killed. They were escaping 
 with their wives and children ; but the Maniats got ahead of 
 them and killed them all. Erom that time the road is full 
 of goblins, and nobody can pass there at night." 
 
 Lampros could not conceal the fact that, despite all his 
 courage, he believed the ghost stories of the guide, and 
 his face grew sombre. The superstition of the time, the 
 result of ignorance and early training, often struck terror 
 to the heart among those otherwise dauntless heroes of the 
 revolution. 
 
 Andronike was more troubled at the credulity of Lampros, 
 than at the tales of the guide. 
 
 " Tell me how you saw those goblins," stammered the 
 armatolos. 
 
 " On my soul, effendi, I am not telling you lies." 
 
 "He is right, lady. We must keep a long distance 
 from those graves, because our people cut down a good many 
 Turks treacherously." 
 
 " Are n't you ashamed, Lampros, to believe such nonsense ? 
 Turn your horse, and let us get into our road. I will pay you, 
 Wallachian, for your stupidity. When you saw those ghosts, 
 you ought to have told me, and not have brought me here," 
 Andronike said angrily. 
 
 From the height they were looking down upon the plain 
 
 23 
 
354 Andronike 
 
 of Laconia. Mistra, built almost on the ruins of ancient 
 Sparta, lay below, at the foot of Mount Taygetos, in a maze 
 of cultivated fields and gentle slopes. The majestic 
 Eurotas with its numerous rivulets, which the snow-capped 
 mountain sends down by a thousand windings, lost itself 
 where the eye began indistinctly to discern the waters of 
 the Laconic Gulf. 
 
 " Lady, we are just opposite the shore. There is Mistra, 
 and farther on is the bay. Down there is Marathonisi, 
 where we can find boats for Misolonghi." 
 
 After a ride of ten hours from Tripolitsa, the} r entered a 
 court, shaded with magnificent mulberry-trees, belonging 
 to the khan of this city, in the acropolis of which the 
 brothers of the last Constantine once found refuge. 
 
 After breakfast, Andronike lay down on a divan for a 
 little rest. Lampros lighted a long narghileh, and, sitting 
 under the shade of the mulberry-trees, was smoking quietly. 
 Two Maniats soon came up. They noticed his haughty 
 bearing and silver-mounted weapons, and asked him if he 
 had ever before been in Sparta. 
 
 " I have known Mistra ever since I was a little boy," he 
 answered briefly. 
 
 " Is that beautiful lady in the large room your relative, 
 captain ? " 
 
 Lampros rubbed his forehead and nodded in the 
 affirmative. 
 
 "She seems like a great lady. She has splendid 
 weapons too." 
 
 " And why are you here at Mistra ? " the other asked. 
 
 The armatolos then told them about the vision of the 
 guide, and added that that very evening they were to set 
 out for Marathonisi. 
 
 " The lady then is not afraid of goblins," said one of the 
 men, looking at his companion. 
 
 " Ah ! The lady has smelled powder. She was at Zeitouni 
 with Diakos, at G-ravias with Odysseus, at the massacre of 
 Scio, and on the flagship which Canaris blew up." 
 
 " Is she a Suliot ? " 
 
 "No. She is an Arcadian. She comes from the hills 
 above Dernetzana." He pointed with his hand to the north 
 of the Peloponnesus. 
 
 " Then she is from the Morea. Only the Morea raises 
 such women." 
 
The Remission of Sins 355 
 
 At that moment the guide approached and began to tell 
 about the phantoms of the preceding night. Meanwhile the 
 significant look which he exchanged with the two Maniats 
 showed that he was no stranger to them. 
 
 "These khans are full of goblins," said one of the 
 Maniats. "Just after the revolution began many of the 
 Turks tried to find a refuge inside ; but the people went at 
 them and broke their bones, parents and children. After- 
 wards they had to make exorcisms, and tried to purify the 
 khan ; but it was no use. No stranger can pass the night 
 here. The rooms are full of everything awful." 
 
 "Truly ? " said Lampros. 
 
 " Ask the keeper of the khan." 
 
 "You wretched Wallachian, why did you bring us to 
 this khan ? " 
 
 " Why ? You told us, effendi, that you would not 
 sleep to-night at Mistra, but would go right on to 
 Marathonisi." 
 
 Lampros soon rose soberly and entered the khan. 
 
 At the same time the guide whom they had dismissed at 
 Tripolitsa and who, hidden by the thick leaves of the 
 mulberry-tree had listened to all their conversation from the 
 little window above the seat of Lampros, showed his 
 black head and made a sign to the three men to climb up. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE REMISSION OF SINS 
 
 Lampros was sitting outside her room when Andronike 
 awoke. As soon as he heard her moving, he entered in 
 terror to inform her that the khan was likewise haunted, 
 and that therefore it was best to begin their journey before 
 night. 
 
 Andronike could hardly believe superstition was so 
 deeply rooted in the heart of the veteran soldier, who more 
 than once had seen himself lying wounded in a pile of the 
 dead. She laughed while he told his story. 
 
 " Don't laugh, lady. You are young yet, and you don't 
 know what witchcraft means. Ask me, who have seen 
 goblins so often in my life." 
 
356 Andronike 
 
 " I neither wish nor intend, Lampros, to remain to-night 
 in Mistra; not because I am afraid of goblins, but because 
 I am afraid of thieves. So go and get ready for the 
 journey ." 
 
 Lampros soon returned to inform his mistress that the 
 Bishop of Monemvasia was leaving that same evening for 
 Marathonisi, and that he had arranged, for their greater 
 safety, to set out together about eight o'clock. When the 
 city was beginning to grow quiet, they left Mistra. 
 
 The Arcadian girl conversed with the bishop, an old 
 man of seventy ; but at every turn in the road she questioned 
 the guide narrowly to make sure that he had not changed 
 their direction. Always, when she ceased talking, she 
 heard Lampros and the bishop's deacon discussing about 
 ghosts, and she felt indignant at their superstition. 
 
 An hour after midnight the moon had driven most of the 
 stars from the sky. It was bright as day. The Eurotas 
 on their left gleamed like an endless crystal with its myriad 
 reflections. Only the peaceful Taygetos, which they had 
 begun to ascend, cast dense, black shadows and made the 
 picture more intense. Already they had climbed some dis- 
 tance, and the gait of their horses had slackened, when a wild, 
 piercing cry was heard from their guide, "The goblins! 
 The goblins ! " 
 
 The horses, as if they understood what the guide had 
 said, stood still, obstinately refusing to advance. 
 
 " Don't you see them, lady ? Don't you see them ? " 
 cried the guide. His sudden and positive manner created 
 something like panic in the hearts of all. 
 
 " They are over there ! They are over there ! M he 
 shrieked, and fled. 
 
 They actually saw, on an eminence fifty or sixty paces 
 distant, white spectral forms which, in the shadow of the 
 road, seemed alive. 
 
 " They are robbers," cried Andronike, " and not ghosts ! 
 Come, Lampros," she added, and she went forward a few 
 steps. 
 
 The blood left the veins of the aged bishop. 
 
 "No, my lady! Stop, stop!" murmured Lampros. 
 
 The figures, five or six in number, seemed to have a 
 human shape, and to hold their hands stretched out to 
 heaven. 
 
 Andronike shouted two or three times, " Who are you ? " 
 
The Remission of Sins 357 
 
 and threatened to fire, but received no reply. With her 
 own eyes she saw the arms of the figures move up and 
 down. Then she fired both her pistols. The reports 
 echoed loudly from rock to rock, and then all was silent. 
 
 The bishop and deacon commenced to exorcise the ghosts, 
 and even Andronike felt afraid. She sternly ordered 
 Lampros to fire, and he unwillingly obeyed. No result fol- 
 lowed his shot except that the hands of the figures seemed 
 to move more rapidly in the air. When she saw the bishop, 
 who a few moments before was scoffing at ghosts, making 
 the sign of the cross, and pronouncing exorcisms, she began 
 herself to tremble all over. 
 
 Five long minutes passed, and the spectres ceased gestur- 
 ing. The exorcisms and prayers of Lampros and the 
 bishop became more urgent, when a rustling was heard like 
 a breeze among the bushes overhead on the high and rocky 
 side. Andronike glanced toward the rear, and saw four 
 or five men spring from the rocks behind. At the same 
 time, she heard a voice she recognized, ordering them to 
 tightly bind the veteran armatolos on whom they had first 
 sprung. 
 
 She was in front of all, and the path was not wide enough 
 for more than one horse to move at once. Fully convinced 
 that she had fallen into the hands of bandits, no other course 
 was left than to advance toward the figures or return and 
 be taken prisoner. So she drew her sword, and drove her 
 stirrups into her horse, urging him rapidly up the steep 
 and stony ground. 
 
 As she passed near one of the phantoms, she struck at it 
 with her sword, and found it was only a piece of white cloth 
 on a sort of frame filled out by the wind. The arms of the 
 effigy were moved by ropes, which had evidently been 
 pulled by the robbers hidden behind the rocks. A little 
 farther on she was stopped by two of the gang, who had 
 remained in front to guard the pass. 
 
 Too late the worthy Lampros recognized how his super- 
 stition had deceived him. The Maniats had devised this 
 trick to prevent any resistance on his part. Now, as they 
 fell upon him, they found him not only disheartened, but 
 without firearms, for he had discharged his gun. A noose, 
 skilfully thrown over his breast, pinioned his arms to his 
 sides, and left him helpless. His clerical companions made 
 no attempt to defend themselves. 
 
358 A ndronike 
 
 "Get down, my bishop," respectfully said Petros, the 
 chief of the robbers. 
 
 "Wait, my son," replied the trembling bishop, leaning 
 upon his shoulder to dismount. 
 
 " What have you got in your bag, father ? " 
 
 "My purse with a little money, and my episcopal vest- 
 ments." 
 
 " Give me the purse, my bishop, and give me the bag, 
 too. Imagine that you are giving them for the widows and 
 orphans! " The bishop gave up his purse with a groan. 
 
 " Now forgive us, bishop, and grant us your blessing." 
 
 The bishop was silent. 
 
 "We have no time to waste, bishop, I tell you. Give 
 absolution quick, so I sha'n't be to blame," added the head 
 robber, superstitiously. 
 
 "Receive absolution and blessing, my son." 
 
 "Now, please hand over your coat." They took it and 
 also the overcoat. 
 
 "Bless this, too, bishop. Also give us your gown. You 
 see there are a good many of us, and everybody ought to 
 have something." 
 
 The bishop gave up his gown. 
 
 " Now let us have your shoes and your breeches. You 
 have a watch, too, and papers and rings. Give us your 
 rings. Excuse my clumsy fingers, my soul-father. It is 
 from handling the gun," said the robber, considerately, as 
 he stripped the metropolitan. The unhappy prelate was 
 deprived of nearly all his clothing, and was compelled to 
 pronounce a. long blessing over each article as it was 
 taken from him. Then they plundered the deacon. 
 
 "Now, our bishop, once more, like a good father, give us 
 all absolution before you continue your journey." 
 
 The almost naked bishop, in a loud voice, several times 
 pronounced the absolution for sin, and asked only to be set 
 free. 
 
 "Ah, our spiritual father, wait! Give us your promise 
 in writing that, whenever you are officiating in the church, 
 you will not deprive us of the holy communion." 
 
 The bishop promised; but, as these modern Spartans 
 were not satisfied with words only, the deacon drew up the 
 written agreement, the ink-stand which he formerly carried 
 in his girdle, and which the robbers had already taken, 
 being loaned him for that purpose. 
 
The Remission of Sins 359 
 
 "Now," said Petros, turning to the guide, "for your 
 share take the coat and shoes of the holy father, and here 
 are three silver pieces from his purse." 
 
 Each then fanatically and with the utmost reverence 
 kissed the right hand of the bishop, and earnestly made 
 their apologies for the liberty they had taken in leaving 
 him and his deacon almost naked in the midst of the 
 wilderness. 
 
 The robbers dealt less harshly with Andronike than with 
 Lampros. To the surprise of their captives they let them 
 go, after they had taken away their arms and most of their 
 clothing. Day was nearly breaking when the bishop, his 
 deacon, Lampros, and Andronike together resumed their 
 journey, without guides, barefoot, and defenceless. 
 
 After painfully wandering for several days, almost worn 
 out, they all reached the town of Nesi, at the deepest recess 
 of the Coronic Gulf. Twenty-four hours before their ar- 
 rival, they had been overtaken by a young and fully armed 
 Maniat, who rode a powerful horse, and whose saddle-bags 
 seemed well stocked. With a reverence no less marked, 
 but more acceptable than that of the robbers, he insisted on 
 the half-dead bishop riding in his place, and he shared his 
 provisions with the famished travellers. 
 
 The name of their new friend was Demetrios Couleas. 
 Born in Mana, all his family except himself were robbers. 
 When twelve years old he once accompanied them on an 
 expedition. He was so shocked at the fighting and blood- 
 shed, that he did not return home, but wandered several 
 months in the Peloponnesus. Getting his livelihood as 
 best he could, at last he became a servant in the school at 
 Demetzana. There he picked up a little learning, and be- 
 came acquainted with Thrasyboulos. In four years' time, 
 he improved and developed so much as to become a paid 
 teacher in the same school. 
 
 When the Greek revolution broke out, the fire of liberty, 
 which was burning in every noble heart, inflamed him also. 
 He sprang to arms, and followed the Prince of Mana in 
 several successful sieges and expeditions. He remained a 
 year at Misolonghi, and benefited by associating with the 
 philhellenes there. A recent commission from the chiefs 
 at Misolonghi to Petro Bey at Nesi was the cause of his 
 being in Peloponnesus. 
 
 To the sudden appearance of this young man the four 
 
360 Andronike 
 
 wayfarers perhaps owed the preservation of their lives. 
 No son or brother could have been more sympathetic and 
 generous in their distress. 
 
 Andronike soon left Nesi by sea for Misolonghi ; but not 
 yet was she to see her lover. Just as her vessel quitted 
 the Coronic Gulf, there came in sight the vast fleet of Ibra- 
 him Pasha, son of the Viceroy of Egypt, which had already 
 begun the blockade of the southern Peloponnesian coast. 
 The Greek crew did their best to find a refuge in one of 
 the tiny bays between Methone and the promontory of 
 Kalos. There they gave their vessel to the flames and 
 took to the mountains, for the Arabs were swarming in 
 every direction over the land. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE GOVERNOR OF LESBOS 
 
 In June of the preceding year Arnaout Pasha, as we 
 remember, had been sent from Constantinople to Cairo. 
 Five months afterward he returned to the capital, and 
 there again held a high position. 
 
 Toward the beginning of 1824 he was appointed Gov- 
 ernor of Lesbos. At this island the imperial fleet, com- 
 prising about two hundred transports and ships-of-the- 
 line, had its headquarters. Chosreph, the capoudan pasha 
 and bosom friend of Sultan Mahmoud, was its commander. 
 He was then planning the subjugation of Psara, which had 
 given asylum to the fugitive Sciots, and boasted of being 
 the birthplace of Constantine Canaris. 
 
 The Psariots were informed of his project, and made 
 ready to defend themselves. They also hired three thou- 
 sand Albanian mercenaries under the command of a chief 
 named Cottas. 
 
 Some days before the departure of the fleet, while 
 Arnaout Pasha was conversing with the admiral, a little 
 boat approached, flying the Ottoman flag, with three 
 Albanians on board. One of the three was Kara Se'id 
 Ali. 
 
 On seeing Barthakas he was troubled at first. Then 
 reflecting that Barthakas could not know that Thrasy- 
 
The Governor of Lesbos 361 
 
 boulos was still alive, he came to himself and showed 
 no concern. 
 
 These men came as emissaries from their commander 
 Cottas. Before the Greek insurrection he had been the 
 trusted confidant and adjutant of Chosreph. Afterwards 
 he had again become a Christian, and fought against the 
 Turks. The Psariots knew nothing of his former relations 
 with the capoudan pasha. Now he had sent to his former 
 master, offering to betray his present employers, and invit- 
 ing the Turks to land at the strong and almost inaccessible 
 place which the Psariots had intrusted to his guard. The 
 terms of treason were quickly arranged between the ad- 
 miral and the three messengers. 
 
 Barthakas invited his former groom to his palace, and 
 the following conversation took place there in Turkish. 
 
 " Why did you deceive me, Kara Seid Ali? Why did n't 
 you drown that giaour? n 
 
 " Who told you, my pasha, that I did not drown him? " 
 
 "I myself have seen him alive." 
 
 The Albanian was confused and stammered, "I also 
 have seen him alive. I was as astounded as you were, for 
 I swear on the Koran that I drowned him in the middle 
 of the lake with a large ball fastened to his neck." 
 
 "Have you really seen him? Where? " 
 
 "AtPsara." 
 
 "At Psara! Is he now at Psara? " 
 
 " Yes. He commands a company of Psariots at the same 
 outwork as our people." 
 
 The shrewd Barthakas tried to penetrate the heart of 
 the Albanian and find out whether he was speaking the 
 truth or deceiving him, but no clew could he find on the 
 black and hairy face of Kara Seid Ali. 
 
 "Why did n't you ask him how he escaped death? " he 
 asked. 
 
 "Am I such a fool as to do that! He doesn't know 
 that I ever did anything to him, for he never saw my face ; 
 for it was night, and I hardly remembered him at all." 
 
 "Has he any woman with him? " 
 
 "I did not see any." 
 
 " And is he still at Psara? " 
 
 "Certainly, and he has no idea of leaving, for the 
 Psariots have their minds made up to fight like fiends, 
 and won't surrender." 
 
362 Andronike 
 
 " Look here, Kara Sei'd Ali. Can you let me have him 
 alive? " 
 
 "I don't know, my pasha, for as soon as the firing 
 begins the first bullet may knock him under." 
 
 "I know that, Kara Sei'd Ali; but can't you get him 
 aside to where we are going to land and give him up to my 
 men? I will order them to take him alive and not to kill 
 him. If you do, you shall have a larger reward than 
 before." 
 
 The Albanian promised, so as to get himself out of the 
 claws of the merciless Barthakas; but at Psara neither 
 Thrasyboulos nor his shadow had ever been seen. 
 
 On account of Thrasyboulos, Barthakas resolved to 
 accompany the admiral on his magnificent fleet. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 MODERN HEROISM 
 
 The Psariots were suspicious that Cottas was playing 
 them false; but dissensions, such as so often defeated the 
 efforts of the Greeks, broke out in their councils. Besides, 
 among the inhabitants the villain had a good deal of 
 influence which it was not easy to counteract. Reefs and 
 sunken rocks rendered the point he guarded so inaccessible 
 from the sea that no disembarkation of the enemy was 
 feared in that direction. 
 
 The intrepid Canaris urged an attack upon the fleet 
 with fire-ships, but the opposite party prevailed in the 
 council. The vessels were disarmed, and their sailors and 
 guns brought on shore to fortify the land defences still 
 more. To remove all means of escape, and oblige them- 
 selves to fight to the death, they took out the rudders 
 from the vessels and completely dismantled them. These 
 tactics might have been worthy of ancient Sparta,, but the 
 topographical features of the island and their superior 
 naval skill made it imperative that these people of the 
 sea should avail themselves of any advantage, and fight 
 their powerful foes on the water before intrenching them- 
 selves on dry land to fight them there. On their ships 
 
Modern Heroism 363 
 
 they left only the old men, the women and children, with 
 a few sailors to protect them in case of disaster. 
 
 On each of the two tongues of the harbor they stationed 
 fifteen hundred soldiers. At intervals they planted bat- 
 teries along the almost inaccessible coast. They drew up 
 a reserve of four thousand men on a commanding height, 
 ready to move wherever the danger seemed most 
 threatening. 
 
 On the first of July the imposing fleet of the sultan 
 quitted Lesbos, and the next day at evening appeared off 
 Psara. 
 
 A few frigates cruised round to reconnoitre, and 
 exchanged some shots with the batteries, but afterwards 
 returned to position. 
 
 The Turks passed the remainder of the night off the 
 island. The lights and lanterns in the masts and rigging 
 showed that Chosreph Pasha had taken precautions against 
 any venturesome fire-ship. 
 
 At dawn on the third of July the fleet advanced in two 
 divisions. The stronger division approached the well 
 fortified entrance of the harbor, while the other drew 
 toward the place where Cottas and his Albanians were. 
 
 On the vice-admiral's ship, which led the second 
 division, stood Barthakas, holding a spy-glass and trying 
 to discover Thrasyboulos among the Albanian mercenaries. 
 
 The men-of-war began a violent cannonade against the 
 city. In the dense smoke the second division succeeded, 
 unseen, in disembarking about fourteen thousand of the 
 fiercest janissaries in a tiny, sandy harbor formed between 
 two precipitous cliffs near the station of Cottas. Thirty 
 Psariots with three guns had a position near. They 
 tried to repulse them, but to a man fell bravely with their 
 weapons in their hands after having first made great 
 slaughter. Then the janissaries put to the sword the very 
 Albanians who had not opposed their landing, but had 
 received them with open arms. 
 
 When Kara Sei'd Ali saw the treachery of the janis- 
 saries, and recognized the face of the Governor of Lesbos, 
 with a bound he sprang down from a remote battery which 
 the Turks had not yet seized, and ran toward the nearest 
 point of the Psariots' line. 
 
 The islanders firmly resisted the admiral's attack, but 
 when the janissaries, who had mastered the commanding 
 
364 Andronike 
 
 positions, swarmed up, they found themselves exposed to a 
 cross fire. Surprise and confusion undermined their 
 strength. They had repulsed the first division, but now 
 did not know what to do. In those frightful moments of 
 indecision Chosreph Pasha succeeded in effecting another 
 landing toward the harbor. Thus the Psariots were pressed 
 on every side. 
 
 Yet the victory was obstinately disputed. Finally about 
 five hundred and fifty Greeks, passing over the dead bodies 
 of their comrades, cut their way through and climbed to 
 the top of a hill near by. Thence, at evening, they crossed 
 to the fortress of Saint Nicolas, inside which crowds of 
 women, children, and old men had already taken refuge. 
 
 Escaping from the janissaries Kara Seid Ali reached the 
 city dripping with perspiration. He entered the first 
 house to which he came. There he found a man wounded 
 in the foot. Near him stood his young and beautiful 
 wife, an old woman evidently his mother, and two or 
 three maid-servants, all of them well armed. 
 
 Taking him for a janissary they raised their weapons in 
 self-defence, but Kara Seid Ali persuaded them that he 
 was not an enemy, and urged them to hastily leave the 
 place, for the janissaries were not far away. 
 
 " Can you lift my husband and carry him to the fortress 
 of Saint Nicolas? I will give you all these watches if 
 you will," said the young woman to Kara Seid Ali, show- 
 ing him three gold watches. 
 
 "And I will give you this pearl," added the old woman. 
 
 The eyes of the Albanian glistened at the sight of the 
 treasures. 
 
 "Will you come too? " the Albanian asked. 
 
 " We will follow you, and we will lend you a hand when 
 you are tired." 
 
 " The castle is not safe, and we shall meet janissaries. 
 I will carry him on my back down to the boats." 
 
 " How can the boats leave without rudders ! No ! To 
 the fortress of Saint Nicolas, and we will go too ! " 
 
 The Albanian regarded the watches and the pearl, and 
 without a word took the man on his back, and with the 
 women left the house. 
 
 To reach the fortress one must either go in a straight 
 line, in which case he would be obliged to cut through the 
 ranks of the Turks, as the five hundred and fifty Psariots 
 
Modern Heroism 365 
 
 had done, or he must make a large detour which would 
 require many hours. 
 
 Kara Se'id Ali chose the second course, and arrived 
 opposite the tower a little past midnight. 
 
 It was impossible to get in, for the Turks surrounded it 
 on every side, and were expecting to make the final assault 
 the next day. There was not time to go back, and death 
 was sure as soon as daylight caused them to be seen. 
 
 "We better go to the boats, my Gialouris," said the 
 young Psariot to her husband. 
 
 " I have an idea, my wife. I remember a large fig-tree 
 near by on the right. You climb up into the tree, and I 
 will stay at the foot. If the Turks come, just give me a 
 shot so that I may not fall into their hands, and you will 
 draw their bullets into the tree, and so we shall die like 
 real Psariots." 
 
 This was the best possible advice under the circum- 
 stances. They sought the fig-tree at once. 
 
 As soon as the day dawned, from the top of the tree 
 they saw bands of janissaries rushing repeatedly against 
 the fortress of Saint Nicolas. During all that fourth of 
 July fresh Ottoman forces were landing on the island, but 
 the besieged maintained a desperate resistance. 
 
 Meanwhile from his elevation Kara Se'id Ali clearly 
 descried his former master seated with his attendants on 
 a rock out of gunshot, turning his glass in every direction, 
 and surveying the combat. 
 
 The guns of the fortress repulsed three furious assaults, 
 but finally the ammunition of the Psariots began to fail; 
 and at the constant appearance of fresh forces from the 
 fleet, they knew that they must either surrender or die. 
 
 About two o'clock in the afternoon one of the com- 
 manders asked the besieged which they chose, surrender 
 or a glorious death. 
 
 " A glorious death is better than slavery, " cried men and 
 women together. 
 
 A great quantity of powder had been stored in a deep 
 mine just outside the fortress. 
 
 A stalwart sailor leaped from the wall with a lighted 
 torch in his left hand, and his sword in the right, and ran 
 toward the mine, but when only a few steps away, he fell 
 under a shower of balls. 
 
 "Another! another! " shouted a lad of fifteen, and like 
 
366 Andronike 
 
 lightning he followed to seize the torch of immortality. 
 He too was shot dead before he had accomplished any- 
 thing. In the same way an old man was stricken down, 
 who had formerly been a brave seaman on the Russian 
 fleet which burned the Turkish ships at Tchesmeh. Three 
 others tried in turn, but before they reached the stored up 
 powder, they also met death. 
 
 For a few minutes the Greeks ceased firing. Kneeling 
 down, they raised their hands toward Him who had set 
 before them this martyrdom for freedom and Christianity. 
 
 The Turks thought that they had stopped firing in order 
 to surrender. From every direction they poured against 
 the fortress shouting, " Allah ! " 
 
 Then a white flag waved on the battlements bearing the 
 words "Liberty or Death! " and at the same moment the 
 earth quivered and a tremendous and repeated roar filled 
 all the horizon. 
 
 The fortress of Saint Nicolas, blown into the air, hurled 
 toward the firmament or buried beneath its jagged rocks 
 six thousand Turks and the Psariots, soldiers, women, 
 children, and old men who had been inside. 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 a woman's protection 
 
 At the moment of the explosion in the dense smoke 
 Arnaout Pasha was separated from his retinue and began 
 to run as far as possible from the frightful spot. At last 
 he stopped directly under the tree on which Kara Se'id 
 Ali and the Psariots had climbed. 
 
 Seeing him approach, the wounded Gialouris rallied his 
 strength, rose, and waited, keeping his body hidden behind 
 the trunk. As soon as the cowardly Barthakas came near 
 enough, he grasped him by the throat and choked him 
 with his sailor fingers tighter than the rope of a hangman. 
 
 With mad thirst for revenge Gialouris was pointing his 
 sword at the heart of Arnaout Pasha, when, with panting 
 breath, the latter managed to say, "Don't kill me! I am a 
 Christian! I am a Greek! They made me a Turk by 
 f oree ! " 
 
A Womaris Protection 367 
 
 "You are a Greek! The Greeks don't wear turbans." 
 " I did not always. They took me at Patras. Za'imis, 
 
 Lontos, are like brothers to me ! " 
 
 "Bah! Arnaout Pasha," cried the Albanian, leaping 
 
 from the tree, "I say, this fellow isn't any cousin of 
 
 Lontos." " 
 
 "My Kara Se'id Ali! Allah has sent you! Glory be to 
 Allah! " and he peered toward the fig-tree, in whose thick 
 leaves and branches he perceived pistols and knives with- 
 out being able to make out how many and what people 
 were there. 
 
 " What are you, Turk or Christian? " asked the Albanian. 
 
 "Just what you are yourself, Kara Seid Ali. You 
 know well enough." 
 
 " I am an Albanian hawk. Whoever gives me the most 
 money, I fight for him." 
 
 " Stick your knife into him, my Gialouris. Don't you 
 hear? He is a pasha. What are you keeping him for, 
 Gialouris? They turned all Psara into ashes," cried the 
 wife of the Psariot. 
 
 The Psariot was in doubt whether to listen to his wife 
 and drive his sharp sword somewhat farther toward the 
 black heart of Barthakas, or to yield to his earnest 
 entreaties. 
 
 "Keep still! What are you shouting for? For the 
 Turks to come and set you free? " 
 
 "I am not shouting, only don't kill me! I am the 
 famous Barthakas, the teacher of the daughter of the 
 demogeront of Demetzana. I speak seven languages, and 
 so they made me a pasha. I am Pasha of Lesbos, and in 
 secret I am always doing good to the Christians. Make 
 me your slave, but don't kill me. I am rich, and can pay 
 my ransom, and you can exchange me for a hundred of 
 your own people. Will you gain by taking away the life 
 of a man who has n't a para with him? " 
 
 "I wouldn't kill him, captain, for I know that he is 
 really very rich. For a small affair he gave me ten 
 thousand piastres once." 
 
 "Climb up into the tree. Quick! If we escape, you 
 shall escape too. If a Turk comes over here first, you 
 shall die, and then we. Good mother, don't take your eye 
 and your hand off of him. I trust him to you, and I 
 know what a snake he is." 
 
368 Andronike 
 
 Barthakas, the Albanian, and the Psariots hid themselves 
 in the leaves of the fig-tree as the smoke of the explosion 
 gradually cleared away. Gialouris reassumed his position 
 at the foot of the tree behind the thick trunk. 
 
 " How did you happen to be in this tree, Kara Se'id Ali ? " 
 Barthakas asked in Turkish as soon as his fright began to 
 diminish. 
 
 " They paid me to carry the wounded man, and to stay 
 and fight near them." 
 
 " But were you not with Oottas and the other Albanians? " 
 
 "I was; but when I saw the honorable way in which 
 you treated them, I jumped down about thirty feet and ran 
 away." 
 
 "I did not hurt anybody. The janissaries are wild 
 beasts everywhere." 
 
 " You are worse than they are — you have killed more 
 people. At least they do it in war." 
 
 "How can you speak to me so?" stammered the pasha, 
 stifling his resentment. 
 
 "It is easy when you change your religion so fast. 
 When you were at Yanina, were n't you a Turk and 
 a caftanji? Why did you just say that you were a 
 Christian?" 
 
 "When a small boy T was a Christian, but the Turks 
 took me and made me a Mussulman." 
 
 " All that is a lie. Nobody but you brought the Laliots 
 into the tower of the demogeront and cut down all those 
 people. You went with the Turks of your own free will." 
 
 " Who told you those lies, Kara Seid Ali? " 
 
 " Thrasyboulos told me." 
 
 "I see that you know each other pretty well," said the 
 aged mother of Gialouris, who understood Turkish, and 
 was listening with interested curiosity. 
 
 "Yes, I knew him at Yanina," cried the Albanian, pat- 
 ting the shoulder of Barthakas familiarly and looking 
 him sarcastically in the face. 
 
 Arnaout Pasha forgot his fear and felt his pride deeply 
 touched. " Bravo, Kara Se'id Ali ! Bravo ! A fine way 
 you have of treating your former master. And what 
 became of Thrasyboulos?" he continued in Turkish, 
 changing his tone, while nodding to him to be careful. 
 
 " What became of him ! Do you want to know? Did n't 
 you tell me to drown him?" looking the pasha in the face. 
 
A Woman s Protection 369 
 
 " But he was a true pallikari, and I had fought with him 
 at Dragatzana, and I had a blood covenant with him, and 
 he paid me well, so I did n't kill him, but spared his life 
 and Carl's too, and now he is at Misolonghi." 
 
 Barthakas did not utter a word, but gnawed his lips 
 convulsively. 
 
 "Before we came to Psara we were at Misolonghi, and 
 I saw him again. He was severely wounded at Carpenesi, 
 where he was with Markos Botsaris, but he is better now. 
 Oh, I know all your secrets ! How you were a teacher 
 at the tower of Demetzana and how you brought the 
 Laliots ; how you tricked Lontos at Patras ; how you stole 
 from Kyria Vouvoulina at Tripolitsa; how you laid hands 
 on all the treasures of Ali Pasha, and caused the death of 
 Chourshid Pasha; and how Andronike got out of your 
 clutches." 
 
 "And was Andronike herself at Misolonghi?" asked 
 Barthakas, and the hair of his head stood up. 
 
 "He was expecting her hourly from the Ionian Islands." 
 
 "Well, and did this ape do all that?" cried the old 
 woman. "Bah! I would like to hang him from one of 
 these branches." 
 
 "He is an ape, lady, with his crooked body." 
 
 u What lies you get together, Kara Seld Ali ! You 
 believe everything you are told. Don't believe it, lady 
 mother ! Don't believe it ! When a man is rich and 
 powerful all the little people bark at him from a distance." 
 
 "Look here, you dwarf! Do you say I lie? Didn't 
 you give me ten thousand piastres to drown Thrasyboulos 
 and Carl in the lake? Is that a lie?" angrily asked 
 Kara Se'id Ali, twirling his great moustache. 
 
 " What are they talking about so loud, mother? " asked 
 Gialouris. 
 
 "They seem to know each other pretty well. It's a 
 pity I don't understand Turkish," replied his wife. 
 
 "They do know each other well," said the old woman. 
 " Do you see this monkey, my boy? He has killed many 
 Christians, and robbed many other people, and so has 
 become pasha. Ask Kara Se'id Ali to tell you. He is a 
 renegade too." 
 
 "Is that so! Stop his mouth then! Why should we 
 keep him? These renegades are worse than the Turks." 
 
 "Don't believe it, my good man!- For Christ's sake, 
 
 24 
 
370 Andronike 
 
 are you so stupid as to kill a man without proof? I am a 
 Christian like you. This fellow is a Turk. See my 
 talisman with a bit of the True Cross. Since boyhood I 
 have had it round my neck. If I was a Turk, what good 
 would it do me? Nothing but accident makes me a pasha. 
 I can pay you two hundred thousand piastres for my 
 freedom. I have relatives all through the Morea 
 and Roumelia. Karaiskakis, Markos Botsaris, Lontos, 
 Mavrocordatos, are all of them my relatives." 
 
 "Don't believe him, captain. It is all a lie. Only he 
 is rich." 
 
 "Ah, you accursed slave ! This Albanian was my groom 
 and ate my bread, and now see how he treats me." 
 
 "Don't be insulting, I say; and did n't you eat the bread 
 of the demogeront? " 
 
 "Beautiful creature," said Barthakas, turning to the 
 wife of Gialouris and softening his tones, "I beg your 
 protection. I see how blood thirsts for revenge, and you 
 don't care whether it be of the innocent or the guilty. 
 See here ! In the old days of our fathers the protection 
 of a beautiful woman was like the protection of a goddess, 
 and no one violated it. If you take me under your pro- 
 tection, I promise to make you a great lady. I am very 
 rich, so why do you want to kill me? " 
 
 "Let him live a little while, Gialouris. That Albanian 
 knows how rich he is. Perhaps he will make up to us the 
 thousands we have lost," said the young woman. 
 
 "If you see the Turks coming along here, then finish 
 him ; for if he once gets out of our hands, he would be the 
 first man to kill us." 
 
 Men and women then fell into deathlike silence. Each 
 was wondering whether he would save his life or not. 
 
 Barthakas, moreover, said to himself that if good fortune 
 let him go this time, he would hereafter be a faithful 
 Turk, for his crimes were so well known to the Greeks 
 that he could hope for no position among them nor per 
 haps escape punishment. 
 
 About nine o'clock that night thick darkness enabled 
 the family to descend from the tree. They tied the hands 
 of Barthakas with a girdle and pulled him along. The 
 Albanian again took Gialouris on his back, and all started 
 for the shore on the other side of the island, where they 
 hoped to find some boat and embark. 
 
A Bath 371 
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 A BATH 
 
 The shore was at no great distance. There the family 
 of Gialouris found other men and women who had come 
 for the same purpose. Toward dawn they perceived a 
 boat full of people, drifting hither and thither on the 
 smooth and glassy sea. It was one of those Psariot boats 
 from which before the catastrophe the rudders and sails 
 had been taken. 
 
 "Why should we wait here for the Turks?" said 
 Gialouris. "Let us take to the water and reach it." 
 
 "Do you know how to swim, Kara Seid Ali?" the old 
 woman asked the Albanian. 
 
 " Like a dolphin. From a little boy I am in the water. 
 I have caught sea-urchins at Prevesa as easy as a louse." 
 
 "And you, do you know how?" she asked, turning to 
 Barthakas. 
 
 " No, lady mother. Never in my life was I in the water 
 up to my ankles." 
 
 "Now he is going in, I say, up to the neck," Kara Seid 
 Ali added dryly. 
 
 "Oh, the wretch! He will drown me! I am done for! 
 I see through it ! They will drown me ! " Barthakas began 
 to moan piteously. 
 
 "Be quiet! Keep still ! Off with your clothes. Kara 
 Seid Ali, do you and Mantho help Gialouris. The rest of 
 us will look out for this fellow," said the mother. 
 
 "Since he don't know how to swim, why should we 
 take him with us? Let me stick my knife into him and 
 get rid of him," said the Psariot again. 
 
 " I can swim a little ! I can ! Don't kill me ! If the 
 others help me I can float. It is a sin to lose the thou- 
 sands I promised you. My sweet lady, I have implored 
 your protection. Don't let them kill me ! " 
 
 " Off with your clothes, you humpback ! What are you 
 crying to me for? Off with your clothes ! The Turks may 
 appear on the hill, wherever they are now," said the young 
 woman, who, with the other women, had already thrown off 
 her heavy island robe and retained only a light chemise. 
 
372 Andronike 
 
 Mechanically he also took off his clothes. 
 
 "I say, humpback! You have a bunch like the 
 ostrich," said the Albanian, astonished at the sight of his 
 bony and deformed body. 
 
 The others, who thought only of the danger before them, 
 paid not the slightest heed to his words, but plunged into 
 the sea as quickly as possible. 
 
 "Jump, pasha, into the water! I am waiting to jump 
 in!" 
 
 "No, holy mother! I never was in the sea! Oh, I 
 shall drown! " 
 
 "Jump! jump, I say! I haven't time to wait," the 
 Albanian cried once more. 
 
 Barthakas approached the water and at once shrank 
 back, crying, "No! no! Kill me, but don't drown me! 
 Oh ! " he groaned, grinding his teeth and shaking his head 
 as if in hydrophobia. 
 
 " Why is the fool afraid of the water? This is, I say, 
 how to jump in ! " 
 
 The Albanian, who stood behind, seized him by the neck 
 and, lifting his little body like a pup in his strong right 
 hand, slung him into the midst of the group of women, who, 
 like mermaids, were waiting for him in a semi-circle. 
 
 Arnaout Pasha gave a shrill cry before falling into the 
 water, and then there was a loud splash as the Albanian 
 sprang in immediately afterwards. 
 
 For a moment the unhappy ex-teacher was lost in the 
 depths of the waters, then like pumice stone reappeared 
 on the surface. His eyes were closed, his hair was plastered 
 over his face, his mouth foamed, and he panted noisily and 
 violently to recover his breath which, on being thrown 
 in, he had retained as long as he could. 
 
 The Psariots seized him, more dead from fear than from 
 the bath which he had taken on that beautiful June 
 morning. They supported him , and proceeded like creatures 
 of the deep towards the ship. At intervals they shouted 
 to the sailors to wait for them. From other promontories 
 of the island other swimmers were trying to reach the 
 same ship. 
 
 After no little exertion they climbed on deck, their 
 strength and breath almost gone. As Barthakas then 
 saw himself in that crowd of Christians he realized that 
 for the present all hope of again seeing his palace was 
 
A Bath 373 
 
 lost. Kara Seid Ali, himself in the same position, had to 
 show the utmost good- will and devotion to the Christians, 
 or else he would have fallen a victim to the desperate 
 circumstances into which his co-religionists had driven 
 them. 
 
 Fortunately the captain of the ship was a certain 
 Angelicaras, a relative of Gialouris. As soon as he heard 
 about Barthakas, he ordered him to be thrown into the 
 hold among the ballast. 
 
 The appearance of the Greeks on the ship was most 
 pitiable. The passengers were mostly old men, except 
 some who had swum to the vessel and had reached it naked 
 and starving. They could impart no direction to it, for it 
 had neither rudder nor sails. There was no jolly boat 
 with which to tow it, and not the slightest breeze agitated 
 the Grecian Archipelago. Their food was exceedingly 
 scanty, and they were upheld only by the hope of meeting 
 a Greek or European vessel. Five successive days they 
 remained in the same situation. On the sixth, toward 
 sunset, they counted fifteen ships coming directly toward 
 them. 
 
 At first their uncertainty was agony, but when they 
 recognized the vessels as belonging to the Grecian fleet, 
 and signalled them to approach, joy and hope revived. As 
 night darkened the horizon they lighted a great lantern 
 on deck to show where they were. 
 
 About nine o'clock the Greek vessels were near, twenty- 
 five war-ships and thirty merchantmen, which were pro- 
 ceeding to Psara to help the unfortunates of the island 
 and to meet the Ottoman fleet. 
 
 With noise and tumult they sprang into the boats on 
 every side. In an hour all the worn-out refugees and 
 sailors of the rudderless vessel were on the decks of the 
 different merchantmen, and had found food and clothing. 
 
 Soon after they sailed away for Hydra, Spetza, and 
 Nauplia. The men-of-war continued their course toward 
 Psara, towing the dismantled vessel with them. 
 
 Barthakas remained in the hold, for in the universal 
 confusion of that night of rescue, when each was thinking 
 only of his own safety, who was likely to remember their 
 valuable captive? Besides the passengers of that vessel 
 were scattered on ten different merchantmen, which had 
 already set sail for different islands. 
 
374 Andronike 
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE HEGOUMENOS BENJAMIN 
 
 The vessel in whose hold Barthakas lay was of about 
 five hundred tons' burden. The place of his confinement, 
 low, narrow, and damp, made him so horribly sick that his 
 face was that of a corpse. 
 
 They had thrown in front of him a basket with dry 
 bread, and given him a jar full of dirty water, and for 
 several days allowed him nothing else. His quarters were 
 directly under the cabin of the captain. 
 
 Already the Greeks had filled the vessel with combus- 
 tibles, and from prow to stern had covered the deck with 
 a quantity of pitch and rosin. During the first part of his 
 imprisonment the terror of the unhappy pasha was so 
 great that he considered death as this time absolutely sure. 
 Nevertheless after some days he perceived that the rud- 
 derless and mastless vessel was moving with surprising 
 speed. He also noticed that profound silence had suc- 
 ceeded the groans and laments of the Psariots on board, 
 and that the sailor who looked after him had not appeared 
 for three days. Now he began to shout for some one to 
 come to his help, but who was there to hear? The vessel, 
 as we know, was being tugged. Everything conspired to 
 drown his screams, — the rattle of the ballast and the fuel, 
 the whistling of the wind and the rippling of the water in 
 the wake. Then he struggled to break his bonds and 
 escape from his prison. 
 
 The Greek fleet harbored for several days at Psara, and 
 there had an engagement with the Turkish fleet. Contrary 
 winds prevented a decisive victory, but the Turks with- 
 drew to Samos, and the Greeks collected their forces and 
 prepared to sail in pursuit. They had got ready seven 
 fire-ships, the largest of which, the very one in which 
 Barthakas was a prisoner, had fallen by lot to the intrepid 
 Constantine Canaris. 
 
 Barthakas had already broken his bonds and partially 
 opened the door of his prison, and was all ready to go out, 
 when, in the captain's cabin, directly under which he was 
 confined, he heard footsteps and soon afterwards people 
 
The Hegoumenos Benjamin 375 
 
 talking. A resonant voice was saying, " The catastrophe 
 of Psara is not only a triumph for the enemy, but a dis- 
 grace to the Greek fleet. The dissensions of the Psariots, 
 Hydriots, and Spetziots brought it about. Did n't I then 
 foretell the consequences, and insist on never letting the 
 enemy approach the island, but preventing him by our fire- 
 ships? Who listened to me! Poor Psara! I do not 
 mourn so much for the friends and relatives whom I have 
 lost as for Psara." 
 
 "You are right, Captain Canaris." 
 
 "Am I right? Do you know, Captain Sactouris, that 
 this very moment the seraglio of the sultan is adorned 
 with the heads of five hundred Psariots, with twelve hun- 
 dred ears and thirty -five Greek flags? You know that 
 worse things even will happen at Samos, where Chosreph 
 Pasha has gone, unless we prevent him. When I say 
 prevent him, I mean we must attack him in the open, and 
 at the same time try to blow him up with our fire-ships. 
 Here is this vessel, for example. You see it. It shall 
 avenge the fall of Psara. I hope to blow up Chosreph at 
 Samos just as I did Kara Ali at Scio." 
 
 "The fire-ships will do the business," said Sactouris. 
 "Let 's go on deck. At what time to-night shall we start 
 for Samos?" 
 
 " At eight. There are five of us captains here, yourself, 
 Captain Vaticiotis, Captain Raphael, Captain Tzapelis, 
 and myself. If each of us blows up one Turkish ship, 
 and then we all make our appearance with our thirty-five 
 small vessels, it won't be surprising if nothing is left to- 
 morrow of that terrible fleet of Sultan Mahmoud. Yet 
 it consists of one hundred and thirty transports, two two- 
 deckers, sixteen frigates, fourteen corvettes, seventy brigs, 
 and thirty schooners, — altogether about two hundred and 
 sixty sail. I want you here, brothers, for our success and 
 the Turkish loss will be enormous. There will be some 
 atonement then for the ruin of Scio and Psara, for the 
 transports are loaded with cavalry, infantry, and stores." 
 
 "At eight then for Samos." 
 
 "At eight. Stop! Why are you in such a hurry? 
 Nicolas, bring some mastica. I will give you a glass of 
 raki. I can't offer you anything else, for I took posses- 
 sion of this fire-ship only to-day, and on a fire-ship one 
 does n't find much of anything except fuel." 
 
376 Andronike 
 
 " A glass of raki is all right, Captain Canaris. Let us 
 drink only to our success and to the deliverance of Samos," 
 said Raphael. 
 
 "They are planning to treat that island just as they did 
 Scio and Psara. I hear that the inhabitants have all 
 taken to the hills." 
 
 "We will make them come back quick," said Canaris. 
 "Your health, brothers, and good luck." 
 
 "Amen, brothers," they all cried, and clinked their 
 glasses. 
 
 "How many sailors are with you, Canaris?" 
 
 " This time twenty. Eight of the same men were with 
 me when I burned up Kara Ali." 
 
 "And your lifeboat?" 
 
 "A longboat only." 
 
 The above conversation paralyzed the unhappy Barthakas. 
 He learned that he was in the hold of a fire-ship com- 
 manded by the hero of Psara. He shook from head to 
 foot on realizing his position. He racked his brains 
 thinking what to do. About nine o'clock, after the Greek 
 fleet had started for Samos, he decided to come out of his 
 prison rather than become a holocaust for the Samians. 
 
 Constantine Canaris was on deck as usual near the 
 helmsman, when Barthakas stuck his head out like a 
 mouse. No one was there except a sailor with a fierce, 
 savage face, who was preparing the dinner of the fire- 
 chief. 
 
 " Hallo, pallikari ! Did you sprout like a radish from 
 the keel? Who are you?" the sailor asked with absolute 
 indifference. 
 
 Barthakas hypocritically turned his head in every direc- 
 tion, and then asked in a low, hollow voice, "Are the 
 Turks gone? " 
 
 "What Turks, I say! The Turks never put foot on 
 this fire-ship ! Who are you, sir? " cried the sailor, 
 laughing loudly. 
 
 " A Christian ! A Christian ! Where am I? " 
 
 "Captain Canaris ! Eh, Captain Canaris ! Come down! 
 Some one is inquiring for you," the sailor shouted with a 
 mocking laugh. 
 
 "Somebody is inquiring for me?" Canaris asked in 
 surprise, and he descended to his cabin. "Haven't you 
 gone crazy, Nicolas?" 
 
The Hegoumenos Benjamin 377 
 
 "No, my captain. Look there." Taking the candle 
 he threw the light toward the corner of the cabin, where 
 the pale and repulsive head of Barthakas protruded like a 
 fantastic mask. 
 
 " What ! Christ and the Panaghia ! Who are you, I 
 say?" demanded the astonished Canaris. 
 
 "A Christian, my admiral. A son of our orthodox and 
 holy Church ! " 
 
 "How did you get here? " 
 
 "The Turks shut me up. I haven't breath enough to 
 speak ! " 
 
 " Take him outside. Give him something to drink. He 
 can hardly breathe." 
 
 The sailor took Barthakas outside, and at the sight of 
 his deformed and half naked body could not help exclaim- 
 ing, "What a dwarf!" 
 
 The pasha, as we know, was most scantily clad, as he 
 had fallen into the sea with the Psariots and Kara Se'id 
 Ali. 
 
 "Twenty -five whole days and nights have I been inside 
 with bread and water and chains ! My Panaghia ! How 
 did I live ! I can't believe it yet ! " 
 
 "But who shut you up down there? " 
 
 " The Turks ! Those dogs of Turks ! Is there any doubt 
 about that? " 
 
 "This vessel was never in the hands of Turks," said 
 Canaris at a loss. 
 
 " Was never in the hands of Turks ! There were so 
 many Christians of us on this ship anchored in the harbor 
 of Psara! The Turks captured it, and put them to the 
 sword, but shut me up down there. I had cursed them 
 for their vile actions, and they meant to torture me to 
 death. I don't understand now how Christians are here 
 instead of Turks." 
 
 "The fellow is telling the truth, Captain Canaris. As 
 soon as he stuck his head out, his first word was, ' Have 
 the Turks gone? ' " said the sailor. Canaris became 
 thoughtful. He puzzled his head to remember when the 
 vessel was in the hands of the Mussulmans. 
 
 "Give him some clothes, Nicolas. Then come and eat," 
 he said to Barthakas. 
 
 The Governor of Lesbos washed his hands and face, 
 and slightly recovered from his painful experiences. 
 
378 Andronike 
 
 " What part of Greece are you from, and what 's your 
 name? " 
 
 " I am from Larissa in Thessaly. My name is Benjamin 
 Parthenios. I was hegoumenos of Iveron, one of the 
 largest monasteries of Mount Athos. When the insurrec- 
 tion broke out, we rose too and beat the Turks. Then 
 after the destruction of Cassandra we were scattered. I 
 was at Misolonghi, at the disaster of Peta, at Thermopylae, 
 and where was n't I ! As the proverb says, ■ I have eaten 
 powder with the spoon ? ! " 
 
 Canaris stared at him, and said, " Then you are one of 
 the fighters ? " 
 
 " One of the fighters ! In such a conflict who is n't one 
 of the fighters ! " 
 
 "Do you know where we are going?" 
 
 "No, captain." 
 
 "We are going to blow the Turks up." 
 
 Barthakas started. 
 
 "Early to-morrow we shall be at Samos. The Turkish 
 fleet is there outside, two hundred and sixty-three ships. 
 We are fifty or sixty. If you go on deck you will see 
 everything. First, we shall fight them, and then attack 
 them with fire-ships. "This vessel is one of the biggest. I 
 am making it ready for the capoudan pasha." 
 
 "Captain, may I ask your name?" said Barthakas, 
 who, although he half recognized the fire-chief, was not 
 quite sure. 
 
 "Constantine Canaris, Pather Benjamin. Lucky that 
 you should be on this same vessel ! So you were fasting 
 for a long time in the hold, Hke a hegoumenos in his cell. 
 After dinner you shall read us some prayers, Pather 
 Benjamin." 
 
 "At your orders, captain." 
 
 As Barthakas felt that, willingly or unwillingly, on the 
 morrow he would be in the fight and in the fire, he felt 
 the little blood still left him dry up in his veins. After 
 dinner the false hegoumenos repeated by heart some 
 prayers and psalms of David, which he remembered from 
 his Christian days, and to which the sailors listened with 
 devout attention. He ended with prayers for the success 
 of the fire-ships and for the destruction of the entire 
 Ottoman Empire. Then all the sailors except the watch 
 went to their berths. 
 
The Hegoumenos Benjamin 379 
 
 Gravely pacing the deck with his hands folded behind 
 him, the renegade once more, after so many days, breathed 
 the pure, fragrant night air. The silvery form of the 
 moon, the phosphorescent glimmer of the wake, and the 
 murmur of the waves rippling against the hull, gave him 
 new life. His cowardly heart in his longing to live began 
 to be tortured by remorse for his crimes, and meanwhile 
 he could discover no manner of escape from the dangers 
 which surrounded him on every side. How often did he 
 repent at having left his sweet Lesbos, that land of peace, 
 in which he was enjoying every pleasure ! At last he lay 
 down near the helmsman and fell into a troubled sleep. 
 
 The next day while the warm iEgean sun was approach- 
 ing noontide, and in its heat almost boiling the pitch on 
 the fire-ships, all the Greek fleet in close array drew near 
 the lofty mountains of the country of Pythagoras. It 
 was the eleventh of August. Chosreph Pasha, with his 
 powerful men-of-war, had quitted Scio, and was sailing to 
 the same destination, leaving his transports not far from 
 Ephesus to embark the troops for Samos. 
 
 "Do you hear firing? " Canaris asked the shipmaster. 
 
 "Yes, Captain Canaris." 
 
 He turned his glass and gazed in every direction. 
 "Sactouris is not in sight," he said to himself after a 
 little. "Signal the Spetziots and ask where he is." 
 
 The order was obeyed, and they answered that the 
 Hydriot admiral was in front at the head of three ships, 
 and fighting with twenty Turkish transports which were 
 conveying troops along the island to Carlovasi. 
 
 "The cannonading is from them then. Let us see what 
 will come of it." 
 
 During the day the Greek vessels came back, bringing 
 with them three transports full of janissaries and Youruks 
 who were being despatched to Samos. The Greeks put 
 them all to the sword. The other transports had been 
 sunk by the Turks, who saw their danger, and fled in 
 their many-oared ship's boats to land. 
 
 The capoudan pasha was at Aghia Marina. About 
 dawn the next day he appeared off the Greek fleet which 
 lay in the harbor of Vathy at Samos. However two fire- 
 ships started out and compelled him to retire, whereupon 
 he commenced firing. 
 
 On anchoring, the hope of soon being able to disembark 
 
380 Andronike 
 
 gradually restored Barthakas to himself. Three times he 
 asked Canaris for permission to land, on the pretext of 
 wishing to visit some relatives at Samos, but the latter 
 sternly replied that he should allow no one to go on shore 
 before the battle. 
 
 The timorous Barthakas then began to scheme how he 
 could manage to get to the pier opposite, which was only 
 a few paces distant. 
 
 The capoudan pasha, ashamed that with such a power- 
 ful armament he was unable to destroy the Greek fleet, 
 returned on the sixteenth of the month with forty-two 
 ships-of-the-line and offered battle. 
 
 "Up with the anchor! Up with the anchor! To the 
 sails! Quick," shouted Canaris. 
 
 "Th-the s-s-sea i-i-is b-bl-ack w-w-wi-th Turks," stam- 
 mered Barthakas. 
 
 "Pray again, hegoumenos, for a victory." 
 
 The false hegoumenos fell full length so as not to see, 
 and begged God to deliver him from that iron hail which 
 was hissing around him. The fortress and the Samian 
 batteries had begun to fire, as had also a body of volun- 
 teers who were stationed on the ruins of the ancient 
 temple of Hera now called Colonse. They all fought 
 with great effect against the flagship, which had taken 
 position opposite. 
 
 The Greek fleet quitted the harbor, and the thunders of 
 cannon shook the sea. So hot was the battle that in a few 
 hours the Turks had fired five thousand balls, and the 
 Greeks a third as many. 
 
 "What are the Hydriot fire-ships doing? I don't see 
 one stirring. Get up, hegoumenos. What are you lying 
 there for? You have prayed enough. You must help 
 too. You are accustomed to powder! How have you lost 
 your senses ! " 
 
 "On 1-1-land, n-not on w-w-wa-t-ter." 
 
 " You will get used to it little by little. Take the spy- 
 glass, climb up there, and look out for the black ships. 
 They are the fire-ships. Watch their movements and tell 
 me." 
 
 Staggering, Barthakas obeyed the order of the chief; but 
 as he ascended the poop, where he was more exposed than 
 anywhere else to the storm of balls, the wretch could 
 hardly stand on his feet. 
 
The Hegoumenos Benjamin 381 
 
 "What do you see?'* Canaris asked. 
 
 " T-t-the s-sm-smoke w-w-won-t 1-1-et in-me s-see a-ny- 
 thing." 
 
 "Do you take the glass," said the chieftain, turning 
 angrily to a stalwart Psariot. He sprang forward like a 
 shot, and snatched the glass from the hands of the 
 counterfeit priest. 
 
 " Go to the cabin and sit down, father. Sit down ! 
 You are not made for war, only another time don't boast." 
 
 "Oo-on 1-1-lan-d, C-c-cap-t-tain C-c-an-a-a-ris." 
 
 " Captain Canaris ! Captain Canaris ! " some one roared 
 with a sea-trumpet from a vessel approaching them. 
 
 "Who is calling?" 
 
 "Captain Sactouris." 
 
 "What is it? Why don't the Hydriot fire-ships attack 
 the Turks?" 
 
 "Let us start ourselves! I don't know why in the 
 devil their sailors won't start. I promised every man a 
 hundred piastres, but they would n't budge. If you don't 
 hurry, the Turks will crowd us with their monstrous 
 ships." 
 
 " Bravo ! Forward, pallikaris ! Signal that other Psariot 
 fire-ship to follow ! Forward ! Forward ! Glory to-day 
 for the Psariots ! Eemember the fortress of Saint Nicolas ! 
 Remember ruined Psara ! " 
 
 "Forward! Forward!" cried the sailors, and bringing 
 their vessel close to a huge Turkish frigate they lowered 
 their lifeboat from the stern. Meanwhile the other fire- 
 ships followed. 
 
 The Turkish bullets fell like hail. Happily little harm 
 was done. According to the saying of Lord Byron, "The 
 time to fear the bullets of the Turks is when they don't 
 take aim." 
 
 Barthakas roused from his stupor just as a loud whiz 
 and a thundering crash were heard. A ball' had traversed 
 the prow from side to side, peeling off two large planks 
 and throwing him down from the ladder which led to the 
 deck. The wretch supposed that his last hour had really 
 come. 
 
 "Hurry to keep the water out! The poor hegoumenos 
 has been killed ! The ball probably carried him off," 
 Canaris muttered, peering down and showing some regret 
 on his strong, warlike face. 
 
382 Andronike 
 
 " They are running away ! They are running away ! 
 They have recognized the fire-ships. What a pity! All 
 the Turks have turned! Are n't they frightened though! " 
 cried one of the sailors, joyfully. 
 
 In fact, on seeing the fire-ships, the Turks ceased firing, 
 and, reversing their rudders, took to flight. " There is n't 
 time for us to go far, 7 ' said Canaris. "We will chase 
 them a little way and come back. The sun has set." 
 Two hours later Canaris put out his terrible torch on 
 reaching the Strait of Dar Boghaz, which separates Samos 
 from Ionia, where the rest of the Greek fleet was moored. 
 
 Barthakas, who at first thought himself killed, recovered 
 his senses. No longer hearing the roar of cannon, he 
 crawled on deck humbly, and hanging his head down, 
 threw himself at the feet of the chief. 
 
 "Get up, my hegoumenos," the latter said good- 
 naturedly. "You told me you had seen a good deal of 
 fighting, and so I kept you on the vessel." 
 
 " War on the sea is one thing, and on land another thing, 
 my son. Yes, I have found it out! My little sword has 
 cut off no few Turkish heads. But the sea takes hold of 
 you and tosses you about, and the cannon thunder so! 
 Who can stand it! " 
 
 "To-morrow morning then we will land you on the 
 island, Father Benjamin, for I see you will not be of any 
 use and can't hold out. This vessel will burn up sooner 
 or later. Can you swim? " 
 
 "Just like lead to the bottom," he replied smiling. 
 
 "You are right then in being so afraid. You know 
 that when we set fire and fasten the fire-ship, we all have 
 to jump into the sea and reach our skiff by swimming." 
 
 "No! Is that so? 
 
 "When we fastened it, what would become of you? 
 Who would remember you then? " 
 
 "Let me once tread on the dry land and never again, 
 my Panaghia, may you let me put foot on the water," said 
 Barthakas. 
 
 " It is night now, but to-morrow morning we will land 
 you." 
 
 He slept peacefully that night. His escape from so 
 imminent danger seemed to him like a dream. Now his 
 only concern was how to get at once from Samos to his 
 beloved Lesbos. 
 
A Fine Story 383 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 A FINE STORY 
 
 Barthakas was landed not far from Scala Nuova, where 
 the Turkish troops were encamped while waiting transpor- 
 tation to Samos. During the night his distorted figure 
 appeared before the captain of the only Turkish corvette 
 in the harbor, which was already weighing anchor to follow 
 the fleet. He sent word who he was, and was immediately 
 received on board. Afterwards he decided that he would 
 be safer in the flagship than if he tried to reach Lesbos, 
 which would necessitate his passing through the Greek 
 fleet. 
 
 Chosreph Pasha, the triumphant destroyer of Psara, was 
 now in a state of anger approaching frenzy at his last 
 defeat. His head throbbed, and his lips were white. One 
 moment he was ready to order his flagship to head an 
 attack upon the infidels, and the next he recoiled, remem- 
 bering what had befallen Kara Ali in the bay of Scio. The 
 name of Canaris inspired him with a terror akin to awe. 
 His dinner was waiting before him, but he paid no heed. 
 The picture of that day's encounter was indelibly burned 
 into his mind. Three of his splendid men-of-war, with one 
 hundred cannon and a thousand men, had leaped into the 
 air and been devoured by the voracious sea, leaving on the 
 surface only a few floating relics. Not a single boat had 
 he been able to capture from the giaours. In his arrogance 
 and pride it was unendurable ! 
 
 In this state Arnaout Pasha, Governor of Lesbos, found 
 him as he entered. 
 
 " What ! Arnaout, are you alive ? " he cried, standing up. 
 
 " I am alive," Barthakas replied, with a grim smile. 
 
 " Where do you come from ? " 
 
 "From hell. I know all there is in the other life. I 
 have been there and come back." 
 
 " I can't believe that you are really alive. I thought 
 that you were buried long ago in that frightful cemetery 
 of Saint Nicolas." 
 
 " And do you think that I did n't go up into the air ! I 
 did go up ; and do you know where I fell ? Into the very 
 
384 Andronike 
 
 middle of Canaris' fire-ship. I was on it when he burned 
 your frigate. How I escaped from his talons, only the 
 Prophet and I can tell." 
 
 " What do you mean ? Sit down, sit down, pasha ! 
 Why ! Why ! What a dog that Canaris is ! " 
 
 " A dog ! Neither the ancient nor the modern world has 
 produced anybody like him. He let me look through his 
 spy-glass," he added with a laugh and a shrug. 
 
 " ShaVt I ever have him in my hands ? I will roast 
 him alive! So he lent you his glass! Tell me, my dear 
 Arnaout Pasha, your history as quick as you can. I am 
 impatient to hear it ! " 
 
 The two pashas sat down to dinner, and Barthakas began 
 his narration. 
 
 "When the Psariots blew up the powder magazine of 
 Saint Nicolas, I saw a sudden flash of light and heard a 
 roar. The sea seemed to open and swallow up the island. 
 I was stunned, made deaf and dumb, and held as in a vice. 
 What became of me I don't myself know. I only know 
 this, that after many hours, when I came to myself, I found 
 I was mixed up in the branches of a tree where were 
 concealed one Psariot, my Kara Sei'd Ali, and three or four 
 women." 
 
 " What are you telling me ! Why ! Why ! Such things 
 are miraculous ! " exclaimed the admiral, stroking his 
 beard. 
 
 "That is nothing to what follows. Listen, capoudan 
 pasha. Kara Sei'd Ali recognized me, and at once told the 
 Psariots who I was. Imagine my situation! Think of 
 those knife-stickers, who saw their country destroyed before 
 their eyes, learning that I was the Governor of Lesbos. 
 One clutched me by the throat; another put his horrid dagger 
 close to my heart ; another tore out my hair ; another stuck 
 his hand over my mouth. The traitor Kara Se'id Ali en- 
 raged me most of all. He was worse than the rest. As 
 for the women, were those creatures women or devils ? " 
 
 " How did you escape death ? " 
 
 u Before finishing me, they left my mouth open for a 
 moment. I did not lose my wits. I must tell you the truth, 
 — when hard up I am as sly as a dog. I talked to them well. 
 I handed them all I had upon me, and promised them half 
 of Lesbos as my ransom, if they would spare my life. 
 Finally I convinced them that they could exchange me 
 
A Fine Story 385 
 
 for a hundred of their own people. We travelled all night, 
 and reached the seashore toward morning, where we saw a 
 large vessel some distance off. 
 
 " ' Let us swim out to it/ screamed the women. 
 
 " What sea calves they were ! Before I could turn 
 round, they were in the water. 'What are you waiting 
 for, pasha?' one of them yelled. ' Jump into the sea.' I 
 did not know how to swim. Another kind of death faced 
 me. That traitor Kara Seid Ali seized me in his hands 
 and hurled me about eighteen feet into the sea." 
 
 " Ah, dear Arnaout ! How we will chop that fellow up ! 
 Into bits ! What then ? " 
 
 "Let me put my claws on him!" resumed the renegade, 
 drawing a long breath. "So be it! Despair renders a 
 man cunning. In an instant I learned how to swim, and 
 with the help of the rest we reached the vessel. It was 
 packed with Psariots. What do you think they did to 
 me ? They threw me into a narrow, damp hole under 
 the captain's cabin, with chains on my hands and feet, and 
 gave me only bread and water. There I remained, my dear 
 friend, just forty days and forty nights ! " 
 
 " Horrible ! Oh, the giaours ! " the capoudan pasha mur- 
 mured, convulsively clenching his fists and moving uneasily 
 on his sofa. 
 
 " Listen a little longer. The Greek fleet met that vessel, 
 and took off all those murderers to carry them to Hydra, 
 Spetza, and Nauplia. In the tumult they forgot me. After 
 a few days they converted the vessel into a fire-ship. It is 
 the very one which burned up the frigate and which Cana- 
 ris commanded." 
 
 " What are you telling me ! " 
 
 " Yes. They loaded it with pitch, rosin, every inflamma- 
 ble substance, and got it all ready. By good luck, before 
 they started they held a council in the captain's cabin. 
 When I found out where I was, and where it was going, I 
 gnawed at my chains to get free. In fact, the evening 
 after we started, while Canaris was at dinner, I sprouted 
 up before him like a radish, as his servant said." 
 
 "It is lucky that he didn't chop you into a thousand 
 pieces," Chosreph interrupted uneasily. 
 
 " On the contrary, as soon as he learned who I was, he 
 invited me to his table." 
 
 "What sort of a man is he, Arnaout?" the capoudan 
 
 25 
 
386 Andronike 
 
 pasha interrupted, with a scowl. " Of course he is a sort 
 of dull giant." 
 
 " On the contrary, he is vigorous, nimble, of perfect 
 self-possession, and uniform good nature, without pride, of 
 average height, with downy moustache, and eyes sharp- 
 sighted as the hawk's, but mild and fascinating. " 
 
 " That is strange ! I thought he was a sort of savage." 
 
 " You misjudge him. He treated me with all the courtesy 
 due my rank. He offered me the best he had, and then we 
 fell into a long conversation about the insurrection. What 
 shall I say ! The man has something to say on his side. * We 
 only want our liberty and nothing else/ he kept repeating." 
 
 " Yes ! Liberty ! The cursed giaours ! " 
 
 "I passed some fine days on that fire-ship, Chosreph, and 
 I grew rather fond of Canaris. Day before yesterday 
 arrived and the battle began. The bullets crossed from 
 prow to stern and from stern to prow, like threads in cloth. 
 It was then, my friend, that I admired Canaris. If he had 
 been the devil himself at a marriage or a ball, he could not 
 have moved with greater indifference and calm. Should a 
 Mussulman appear inferior ? I climbed out on the jib and 
 with a spy-glass watched that scene of battle. Canaris pre- 
 tended not to see me, but, notwithstanding, his eye kept mov- 
 ing like the tail of a bird. Ten times my eye caught his as 
 he stood admiring me from the side. Not to be tedious, I 
 had good luck. A thousand balls took the hair from my 
 ears as it were, and yet none of them touched me." 
 
 " Bravo, pasha, bravo ! Joy to the Prophet that he has 
 such followers ! " shouted Chosreph, with enthusiasm. 
 
 "In the evening at dinner the brave Psariot could not 
 refrain from scattering a few laurels on me because of my 
 conduct. On the other hand he reproved me at having so 
 exposed my life. Then he added, * Do you see this ship ? 
 To-morrow I will burn your admiral with it, just as I did 
 Kara Ali.'" 
 
 " Oh, the man ! Let him come on ! " 
 
 a ' I am sorry/ he said, ' for you to have the pain of being 
 present at his funeral ; but Chosreph destroyed Psara. As 
 long as I am alive and have a ship, I will pursue him and 
 find him, even if he hides himself in his palace on the 
 Bosphorus.' " 
 
 Chosreph became pale and anxious. 
 
 " Truly, my dear admiral, the other day he uttered no 
 
A Fine Story 387 
 
 name but yours. He bellowed like a bull, he growled like 
 a dog, lie kept seeking the flagship and crying, * Chosreph] 
 Chosreph ! J Then when he did not reach it, but saw the 
 failure of Zampalis, he was afraid that the Greek fleet 
 would suffer, and so postponed his intention and turned on 
 the frigate. He was like an eagle descending from a height 
 to seize a dove. I sat down on the deck and mourned the 
 destruction of our own people. Finally I sprang into his 
 boat. He told me that he was ready to disembark me, and 
 let me go where I would. He warned me however not to 
 board your flagship, for its fate was determined. ' Sooner 
 or later I shall blow it into the air/ he added." 
 
 " Oh, the fiend ! He will do it ! What a devil ! The fire- 
 ships of nobody else stick like his ! I will go on board 
 another vessel, Arnaout, and will raise my admiral's flag on 
 a different one," said the capoudan pasha, with consternation. 
 
 In fact the next day Chosreph Pasha took up his quarters 
 on a frigate without any distinguishing flag, in order that he 
 might escape the pursuit of the Greek fire-chiefs. 
 
 " I say, Chosreph, let us leave these sea-devils, sail over to 
 Lesbos, and amuse ourselves there this winter. Do you know 
 what Canaris told me ? Hereafter they don't intend to waste 
 their powder on cannon, but are expecting immense stores 
 from England and France. As soon as they arrive, they will 
 prepare thirty or forty fire-ships. Then they will devote one 
 fire-ship to each of our men-of-war. Thus in a single day 
 they will not leave one of the Padishah's ships in existence. 
 Afterwards they will go to Constantinople and burn it." 
 
 "I believe it, for all the Franks help them. What would 
 you, Arnaout Pasha ! It is kismet ! It is written that we 
 should remain in Europe only four hundred years. The 
 time has come ! Would that we were able to return now to 
 beautiful Lesbos ! But how can we proceed in that direction 
 where there is such a host of Greek ships ? It is better to 
 turn southwards toward Cos, and there join the Egyptian 
 fleet, whatever may happen. You know how I abominate 
 Mehmet Ali and Ibrahim Pasha, whenever I think of how 
 they robbed me of Egypt, my promised land ! But, patience ! 
 We are better off with them than if we allow the enemy of 
 the faith to destroy us." 
 
 The admiral then ordered the other ships to follow. That 
 night, after so many days of suspense, Barthakas first slept 
 a calm and unendangered sleep. 
 
388 Andronike 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 ODYSSEUS AND GOURAS AGAIN 
 
 We can barely allude in our story to that splendid series 
 of successes which the Greeks gained over the Turkish fleet 
 before the end of the year 1824. The Egyptian vessels 
 were then under the command of Ibrahim Pasha, son of the 
 Viceroy of Egypt, and of a Tunisian admiral. United with 
 the forces of Ghosreph Pasha, the whole formed a naval 
 armament like that of Xerxes. The Hydriot Andreas 
 Miaoulis, in naval genius and daring the Nelson of Greece, 
 rivalled Canaris and caused Ibrahim Pasha to cry with a 
 spasm of rage, on seeing Hydra in the distance, " Ah, my 
 little England ! Shall I never hold you here in the palm of 
 my hand ! " 
 
 Meanwhile Barthakas was constantly changing from the 
 flagship of Chosreph to that of Ibrahim, and back again to 
 that of Chosreph, according to which he considered the 
 safer, without ever being able to effect his return to Lesbos. 
 
 About the end of the year, Chosreph, unable to get on 
 well with Ibrahim, and weary of seeing so many useless 
 battles, one morning left behind a large part of the fleet, 
 sailed to the Dardanelles, and anchored in the Golden Horn. 
 Ibrahim, with whom Barthakas had remained, then de- 
 parted to Crete, and from there to the Peloponnesus, so as to 
 effect his formidable disembarkation. He made his appear- 
 ance, as the reader remembers, in the very region where 
 we left Andronike, to whom we now return. 
 
 Andronike and Lampros climbed to the monastery of 
 Saint Elias, hoping to go thence over land to Misolonghi. 
 While preparing to continue their journey, they received 
 news that the Vali of Roumelia, with a picked army of 
 twenty thousand Albanians and Epirots, had arrived without 
 resistance in front of the famous city. 
 
 The despair of Andronike could go no further. She was 
 not thinking so much of herself as of her sick lover, whom 
 it was impossible for her now to reach by land or sea. 
 
 Andronike passed three whole months in the vicinity of 
 Demetzana, and in the cell of the hermit of the Prophet 
 Elias, without a letter or any means of getting forward. 
 
Odysseus and G our as Again 389 
 
 At last one evening she said to Lampros, "To-morrow get 
 two horses ready." 
 
 "Where for, lady?" 
 
 "Athens." 
 
 "For Athens!" 
 
 "Yes. We have tried every other route. Foolish as it 
 seems, and in the opposite direction, yet we will go there ! " 
 
 " It is madness for a woman to attempt it, lady. No, in 
 Christ's name ! " 
 
 " I shall put on man's clothes again. You will go, and I 
 will say I am your son." 
 
 " Lady, remember Zeitouni ! " 
 
 " Hush ! Get the horses ready. I don't want advice." 
 
 " As you please, lady, but — " 
 
 "'But' what?" 
 
 " My heart foretells great trouble. Why don't we, lady, 
 keep on the hills till things become more settled, and then 
 start? The Turks are everywhere in Roumelia and the 
 Peloponnesus. Ibrahim, with his ships or soldiers, won't let 
 a soul pass. Do you want to fall into his claws ? " 
 
 "I know it, Lampros. I have seen death often, and have 
 mocked it ; but my Thrasyboulos is in danger, and I am going 
 to die at his side. Let them kill us both. Stay here if 
 you want to." 
 
 " I leave you, my lady ! I am thinking only of you. 
 Powder is burning in the plain, and I am staying on the 
 hills only for your sake. Have n't you seen me in battle ? 
 Was I afraid of anything in the world except the goblins ? 
 What can I say to you, lady ? My soul tells me we shall 
 have bad luck." 
 
 " All Greece is there. What are you afraid of, Lampros ? " 
 
 The next day Andronike started for Athens. She was 
 provided with sufficient money and wore the most unpre- 
 tentious costume of a pallikari. 
 
 Time fails us to describe the experiences and perils of 
 their journey. Almost to their own surprise, in safety they 
 reached Athens on the fifteenth of June. Attica was the 
 only part of Greece now somewhat free from the enemy. 
 
 They dismounted at an inn near the Clock of Lord Elgin. 
 When Lampros began to describe the state of things in the 
 Peloponnesus, and narrate some of their own adventures, 
 the inhabitants poured out from every part of the city to 
 see them. 
 
390 Andronike 
 
 The second day after their arrival, a light armed Roume- 
 liot, standing opposite Lampros, said to him, " Your face, 
 grandfather, is not strange to me ; but I can't recall you." 
 
 " It seems to me that I have seen you somewhere ; but how 
 can one remember the many faces he sees ! " 
 
 "Were you ever anywhere in Roumelia ? " 
 
 " Wasn't I with Odysseus and Botsaris and — " 
 
 " With Odysseus ! In the cave ? At the Black Hole ? " 
 
 " Surely I was at the Black Hole, as you call the Cory- 
 cian Cave, with my effendi, the nephew of the patriarch 
 Gregory." 
 
 " Yes ! Yes ! Now I remember you ! How are you, 
 comrade ? " He threw his arms round him, and kissed 
 Lampros on the mouth. 
 
 " Who are you yourself ? " the armatolos asked him in 
 surprise. 
 
 "I am one of the soldiers of Odysseus. Don't you 
 remember me when you were with Kyrios Thrasyboulos ? 
 
 Don't you remember how Kyra R made eyes at him, 
 
 and laid hold of Trelawny by the fustanella?" 
 
 " You are right. Now I remember you. Did you leave 
 the cave some time ago ? What is the news from Odysseus 
 and Kyra R ?" 
 
 " Odysseus ! Don't you know ? Gouras holds him as a 
 
 prisoner up here. Kyra R is at the cave with Trelawny 
 
 and Kyria Elene." 
 
 " Odysseus is a prisoner on the Acropolis ? " Andronike 
 asked impetuously. 
 
 "Yes. Who is your gentleman ? " the Boumeliot asked 
 in turn, giving her a friendly glance. 
 
 " My son. He is my only son," replied Lampros. 
 
 " Why did n't you say so before ? Here 's to you, my 
 pallikari." He approached her, and throwing his arms 
 around her, pressed his thick moustaches on her face and 
 gave her a resounding kiss. 
 
 Andronike was confused, and her cheeks became red as 
 a rose. Lampros shook his head, not knowing what to 
 say. 
 
 " And why have they put him in prison ? " Andronike 
 forced herself to ask in the effort to hide her displeasure. 
 
 " Why ? They can say that he was a traitor, and had 
 dealings with the Turks." 
 
 " Can any one who wishes go and see him ? " 
 
Odysseus and G our as Again 391 
 
 "I think so; but I don't go myself for I was his sol- 
 dier once, and I hate Gouras and pity Odysseus very 
 much." 
 
 " Come, father, let us go to the Acropolis. I want to 
 see the Parthenon and the Propylsea." 
 
 " The boy is learned. I don't know anything myself 
 about these tumbled down churches," said Lampros, turning 
 and bidding the Roumeliot good-by. 
 
 In any other circumstances, Andronike, among the ruins 
 of the highest ancient art, would have been overcome with 
 delight. But now her long series of misfortunes crowded 
 upon her memory. She walked oppressed by the fear that 
 some new disaster was about to fall upon her. 
 
 She passed by the Propylaea, the Erechtheum, the temple 
 of Nike Apteros, the Parthenon, and proceeded toward the 
 farther end to the Venetian tower where the hero of Gravias 
 and Thermopylae, the swift-footed Odysseus, was a prisoner. 
 Guards were stationed outside the tower. By means of a 
 little money, Andronike and Lampros succeeded in entering 
 the part where Odysseus was confined. 
 
 The untimely death of Lord Byron had indirectly occa- 
 sioned his miserable situation. If the Congress of Salona 
 had taken place, and the illustrious poet had come there, 
 surely Odysseus would have become reconciled with the 
 Greek government, and the intrigues of his enemies would 
 have been unable to undermine him. 
 
 As it was, the members of the government were his im- 
 placable enemies. They gave him neither pay nor rations, 
 and openly stirred up his soldiers to desert and abandon 
 him. Haughty and revengeful, he then began to plot with 
 the Turks, and opened communication with Omer Brione, 
 the torturer of Diakos. 
 
 This did not continue long, for his self-respect awoke. 
 He realized that his glorious name was dishonored. So 
 one morning, on the twentieth of April, at the head of a 
 detachment, he threw himself into the arms of Gouras, his 
 former proto-pallikari, by whom he felt sure he would be 
 protected and saved. 
 
 Gouras imprisoned his old-time master in that same 
 Acropolis over which he had made him chief of guard. 
 By cruelty and ingratitude he had become the dictator in 
 eastern Greece. 
 
 Odysseus was sitting in chains on the ground. He was 
 
392 Andronike 
 
 sick and greatly changed. His head was bowed upon his 
 knees when Andronike with Lampros appeared before 
 him. 
 
 " Do you know me, general ? " she asked. 
 
 " Captain Andronikos ! " he replied. " Where have you 
 been, Captain Andronikos ? After that battle of Gravias 
 nothing was heard of you. Your brother Thrasyboulos was 
 hunting for you. Did he find you ? " 
 
 "No. He is at Misolonghi, wounded. Tor a year I have 
 been wandering and cannot get to that city." 
 
 " Do you see my condition ? Did you ever think you 
 would find me like this ? " 
 
 " No ! Surely, and I am distressed ! I tell you, general, 
 from my heart I sympathize with you. M 
 
 " I believe you ! I believe you ! But who does not pity 
 me, except that wild beast Gouras ! No man in the world 
 had more patriotism or greater desire for the welfare and 
 liberty of Greece than I ! See how they have treated me ! 
 They made me crazy ! Their persecutions, their plots, 
 their intrigues, so involved me that I was blinded and made 
 a truce with the Turks. Accursed, thrice accursed, be that 
 hour ! Hardly had Satan pressed me to it, when I repented. 
 I felt sharper pangs than if I had slain my own children. 
 Two paths lay open before me. One was to become alto- 
 gether a Turk, and then I should have been most terrible to 
 the Greeks, Captain Andronikos. No one else knows the 
 by-paths, the holes, the caves and rocks of Greece, its 
 means, its forces, its strength, its stores, and its men, as 
 I do. The other was to return to the Greeks, to entreat 
 pardon for what I had done ; in some new battle to wash 
 away all suspicion from my character, and then to with- 
 draw to some quiet corner and pass the rest of my days there 
 in peace. Only two months did I stay with the Turks, and 
 then, as soon as I could, I hurried to the arms of Gouras. 
 Do you remember what Gouras was before Gravias ? My 
 servant ! My proto-pallikari ! I brought him up ! I took 
 him, a mere peasant, and I shaped him, I moulded him ; I 
 appointed him chief of the guard of this Acropolis. I 
 might add, twice I saved his life ! Blacker ingratitude 
 there is not in the world ! What do you think he wants 
 me to give up to him ? All that I have in the Corycian 
 Cave ! In return for my liberty, he wants to rob me of my 
 last obolos." 
 
Odysseus and G our as Again 393 
 
 " It is pitiable, general ! How is Kyria Elene ? Where 
 is she ? " 
 
 "At the Corycian Cave. As perhaps you have heard, I 
 married my sister Tarsitsa to the Englishman Trelawny. 
 He is a worthy man, that Trelawny. He obtained three 
 cannon. He planted them at the entrance of the cave 
 and guards it with the men still faithful to me. For 
 some time I have had no news from them. As long 
 therefore as Gouras cannot dislodge him from there, and 
 confiscate my property, so long he holds me here in strict 
 confinement." 
 
 " If I only could be of service to you, general ! Tell me 
 how I can serve you." 
 
 The eyes of Odysseus were wet with anger. He lifted 
 his noble head, and after some minutes of reflection said, 
 " You can be of service to me. You know Gouras some- 
 what, and he remembers you as he remembers every true 
 pallikari of Gravias. Tell him that you come from Cala- 
 mata. Tell him that his ingratitude has filled all the 
 hoplarchs with indignation. Tell him that his name will 
 be accursed, that my enemies themselves pity me, and that all 
 impute the blame to him, and say that the reason of his 
 confining me is because I do not surrender my property 
 to him. Add that it would be well for him to liberate me, 
 for Trelawny has already written to England in my behalf, 
 and sooner or later he will set me free. Let him know 
 that volunteers are being raised in Levadia to come to my 
 relief. Last of all, tell him that while the Peloponnesus is 
 being deluged by the torrents of Ibrahim, and western 
 Greece by those of Reshid Pasha, it is not even wise that 
 the east should be devoured by civil wars." 
 
 " I will do, general, as you tell me. To-morrow morning, 
 very, very early, I will go to Gouras, and I will say many 
 other things too. I swear it. I will make him as afraid 
 as I can." 
 
 " Only fear can move the rascal. But let me keep silent ! 
 Come every day to see me ! " 
 
 It was already evening when Andronike went out from 
 the prison of Odysseus. At the door of the tower she 
 encountered Gouras conversing with three or four persons. 
 
 " Who are you ? " he cried in a tone of thunder. 
 
 " Good-evening, captain. Don't you know me ? " she 
 asked, approaching him. 
 
394 Andronike 
 
 "Good-evening. Who are you? Why! Captain Andro- 
 nikos ! How did you come here ? " 
 
 " Yesterday I arrived from Calamata." 
 
 " From Calamata ! What is the news ? How are things 
 going on down there with Ibrahim ? " 
 
 " I have very many things to tell you. I am especially 
 commissioned from the hoplarchs to communicate to you 
 something very important." 
 
 " Really," he said thoughtfully. 
 
 " At what hour can I see you to-morrow ? " 
 
 " About ten in the morning. I will expect you." 
 
 " Without fail," she said, saluting him. 
 
 Gouras raised his hand to his forehead, and reflected for 
 a long time. Then he began to pace slowly back and forth 
 on the Acropolis. Full night had come on. 
 
 " What are you thinking about ? " one of the men asked 
 him. 
 
 " Nothing. Let us enter," he whispered, and he pulled his 
 fez down to his eyebrows. 
 
 Three of his companions were Mamouris, Papa-Costas, 
 and Triantaphillinas. The fourth, a servant of Gouras, 
 carried a glass lantern. 
 
 As they entered the prison, the hero of Gravias raised his 
 pale face and looked at them like another Marius. 
 
 " We have come, Odysseus," Mamouris soberly began, " for 
 the last time to ask you where you keep you treasures." 
 
 u I have no treasures. What I had I expended for 
 the nation. Who paid my soldiers ? The government ? " 
 he replied. 
 
 "We know that you do have money," Papa-Costas 
 persisted. 
 
 " You are wrongly informed." 
 
 " I advise you to confess," the same man repeated. 
 
 Odysseus fixed his eyes on the ground and kept silent. 
 
 " Why don't you order Trelawny to surrender the cave ? " 
 asked Gouras. 
 
 " Trelawny is master of the cave, and he will never obey 
 any one's order to surrender it. Did I not give him 
 directions ? You know him well enough. Do you know 
 what an Englishman is ? " 
 
 "And are you resolved not to tell us anything more 
 to-night ? " 
 
 " When I don't know anything, how can I tell you ? " 
 
Odysseus and Gouras Again 395 
 
 " It appears that you won't listen to kind treatment." 
 
 The haughty Odysseus cast contemptuous glances at his 
 former humble servant and kept silent. 
 
 Papa-Costas then took from his pocket a pair of iron 
 pincers and said, "Look here! I intend with this to pull 
 out your teeth, one after the other, if you don't confess." 
 
 " You are able to pull them all out. You have tied my 
 hands." 
 
 " And if they were free, who would be afraid of you ? 
 We also are Greeks," said Mamouris, shrugging his 
 shoulders in coarse braggadocio. 
 
 " You are Greeks ! You are worse than the Turks ! " 
 
 " So then you will confess," said Papa-Costas, approach- 
 ing the unhappy man. 
 
 " Shame, brothers ! Shame on you," he exclaimed sadly. 
 
 " Confess ! You will confess, Odysseus ! " said Gouras. 
 
 " You too, my boy Gouras ! " 
 
 " Your boy ! No, I am your master," boasted the insolent 
 chief of the guard. 
 
 "Tell us, or out go your teeth!" the base Papa-Costas 
 exclaimed, again approaching. 
 
 The fettered Odysseus rose like a giant, planted his 
 back against the wall of the tower, and expanding his breast 
 struggled to break the chains from his hands. 
 
 " You may find it out from God, " he said. 
 
 " God sent us to revenge the men you have killed," said 
 Mamouris in a harsh, incoherent voice. 
 
 "My enemies sent you ! " 
 
 " What are you waiting for, Papa-Costas ? " the cutthroat 
 Mamouris asked again. 
 
 " Hold him from behind ! " 
 
 Mamouris threw himself upon Odysseus, dragged him 
 away from the wall, and grasped him tightly from behind in 
 his two arms. 
 
 "Gouras! Gouras! Don't you remember how many 
 times I saved you from death ? How can you suffer this ? 
 Oh, cowards ! Cowards ! " 
 
 Triantaphillinas, a low and brutal man, full of hate for 
 Odysseus, because once he had been beaten by him, seized 
 his moustache and chin in his two horny hands, and tried to 
 open his mouth. 
 
 Papa-Costas plunged his pincers in the mouth of the 
 sufferer and wrenched out two teeth. 
 
396 Andronike 
 
 " Confess, or I will pull them all out," he cried. 
 
 " Tell us, Odysseus," said Gouras, who was holding his 
 head. 
 
 Odysseus moaned in his agony. The wild beast of the 
 forest might have been moved at the groans of that 
 valiant soldier. None of the assassins were touched except 
 the servant, who shook with a convulsive shudder. The 
 hardened and indifferent murderers looked on. 
 
 " Will you tell us ? f Mamouris asked once more. 
 
 It is too horrible to describe the scene further. Gouras 
 and his companions were frenzied by avarice and infuriated 
 at the obstinate refusal of Odysseus to reveal where his 
 treasures were hidden. They dealt blow after blow on the 
 hapless prisoner. His moans gradually became less fre- 
 quent. His eyes opened and closed ; his head quivered and 
 rolled from side to side ; he gave one last deep groan, and 
 all was over. 
 
 " We have finished him," said the chief executioner, foam- 
 ing with rage. Then Gouras became very thoughtful. He 
 did not utter another word, but tugged nervously at his 
 moustache. 
 
 They tied a rotten rope to the arm of Odysseus, cut it in 
 two, and threw his dead body down from the Acropolis, 
 fastening the other end of the rope to one of the south win- 
 dows of the tower. Thus they tried to make it appear that 
 it had been broken by Odysseus in an attempt to escape. 
 
 The next day the entire city of Athens was in a ferment 
 at the news of his death. Although the report was given out 
 that he had fallen and been killed while attempting to escape, 
 appearances disproved the story, and few believed it. 
 
 Andronike was on her way to Gouras when she learned 
 the news. "I don't believe it, Lampros. It must have 
 been some one else/ 7 she said. 
 
 " Let us go and see for ourselves, lady." 
 
 " Let us go, Lampros," she replied, breathing hard. To- 
 gether they went to the foot of the Acropolis, to the place 
 where the dead body of Odysseus lay in the dust, surrounded 
 by a crowd of people. 
 
 As she recognized him, the young woman turned her face 
 away and wept. 
 
 " Poor son of Androutsos," whispered Lampros. 
 
 " Let us flee, Lampros ! I shall not go to Gouras. What 
 can I do now ? Let us leave Athens and start for Mi so- 
 
Love becomes Friendship 397 
 
 longhi by land. I think our own graves are there. Either 
 we shall enter the place, or at least only one gate will sep- 
 arate my dead body from Thrasyboulos." 
 
 In fact, that very evening of the seventeenth of June, 
 while the ill-fated Odysseus was being buried humbly in a 
 corner, Andronike and Lampros departed. 
 
 The crime of Gouras did not remain unpunished. In the 
 following year, 1826, he was shot while walking with his 
 patrol, and fell dead without a murmur. Some persons 
 maintained that the ball came from the Turkish lines. 
 Others asserted that he was killed by a soldier who had 
 been a bosom friend of Odysseus, and had sworn to revenge 
 his former master. 
 
 Kyria Gouras, that beautiful maiden whose marriage the 
 Acropolis announced with salutes from its cannon, and for 
 whom the Parthenon and Erechtheum were illuminated with 
 fireworks, was buried in the Temple of the Erechtheum, 
 where she was staying with other of the chief Athenian 
 ladies. About five months after the death of her husband, 
 a ball from a Turkish cannon struck one of the pillars, 
 threw down a large portion of the famous temple, and 
 crushed them all in the ruins. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXV 
 
 LOVE BECOMES FKIENDSHIP 
 
 Eight days after leaving Athens, Andronike and Lamp- 
 ros reached the river Momos, not far from Misolonghi. 
 
 Just as they were about to cross, they met Kyra E and 
 
 her donkey boy face to face on the bridge. 
 
 " Can I believe my eyes ? Lampros ! Lampros ! And you, 
 too ! " she cried, raising both hands to her head. 
 
 "And how is your health, Kyra E ?" Andronike 
 
 asked. 
 
 " So you ask about my health ! Is n't your brother lost ? 
 Do you know now ? Kyrios Thrasyboulos took me for a 
 fool, and told me that you were not a man but a woman ! 
 Ha! ha! But, my pallikari, you don't wear fine clothes any 
 more ! You have n't changed a particle, except you are a 
 
398 Andronike 
 
 little tanned. Now tell me, on your soul, are you a man or 
 a woman ? n 
 
 " What sort of a question is that, lady ? " Lampros re- 
 plied, soberly. 
 
 " Don't get angry, Lampros ! I have my reasons for ask- 
 ing. Are you a man or a woman, Captain Andronikos ? " 
 
 Andronike began to laugh heartily. 
 
 " Don't be always so sly ! Don't be angry, but take it well, 
 and tell me without joking, are you a man or a woman ? " 
 
 " When we are inside Misolonghi, you shall know, Kyra 
 R . I cannot at present satisfy your curiosity." 
 
 " If we are ever inside of Misolonghi ! Don't you know 
 how closely it is besieged by the Turks ? I wonder if 
 Thrasyboulos is still there ! I left him last summer very 
 sick in that same Misolonghi." 
 
 "When were you in Misolonghi ?" Lampros asked. 
 
 "After he had sent you to the Ionian Islands to bring his 
 betrothed. Don't laugh ! You are a woman ! I am angry 
 at last ! You are not a woman ! " 
 
 " Then you were in Misolonghi and saw my Thrasyboulos ! 
 When was that ? " Andronike exclaimed. 
 
 "Your Thrasyboulos! Then you are a woman after 
 all!" 
 
 " And was Thrasyboulos very sick, Kyra Rr ? " 
 
 "Somewhat. He was badly wounded at Carpenesi. I 
 left him confined to his bed. Carl is looking after him 
 well. And have n't you seen him yet ? Have n't you been 
 to Misolonghi yet ? " 
 
 Andronike then told Kyra R all her history from the 
 
 time that Barthakas became a teacher in their tower until 
 the death of Odysseus. Although the Suliot had learned 
 part of this from the letter Andronike had sent to Thra- 
 syboulos, she was none the less overcome by excitement, 
 and cried, "What! The caftanji of Chourshid Pasha! 
 Could that humpbacked son of a donkey do all that ? A 
 frightful history, lady ! Did any one else ever have any- 
 thing like it ? " 
 
 Kyra R was dressed entirely in black for Odysseus. 
 
 She seemed greatly changed in all but her manner of speech. 
 She told them that Kyria Elene, the wife of Odysseus, had 
 been compelled to surrender the cave to the forces of 
 Gouras. As for herself, she said that she was tired of 
 adventure, and ready to die. 
 
Love becomes Friendship 399 
 
 "Who could have believed that after all our sacrifices 
 through these years, our revolution would be crushed," said 
 Andronike. u To-day Ibrahim Pasha is master of all Pel- 
 oponnesus except Corinth and Nauplia. Reshid Pasha has 
 overrun the Greek mainland with his armies. We our- 
 selves are destroying and assassinating each other." 
 
 In her emotion, Kyra R began improvising after the 
 
 Suliot custom : — 
 
 " Pallikaris, maids and youths of kleptic sires, 
 Lofty mountains, crystal fountains, you have here ; 
 But in youth, with sword in hand, like flowers you die. 
 Yet no wild lament you hear, nor mother's moan, 
 While you water with your blood the sombre cypress-trees. 
 Quick awoke the nation's soul, when Freedom called ; 
 And it soared and soared on high, half way to the sky ; 
 But the black-winged ravens came and drove it far away. 
 Noble lady, let us enter darksome Misolonghi's streets ! 
 Let us go and die there too, and let our own sword flash ! 
 Let us bid farewell to youth, which once did charm." 
 
 "Yes, ladies," said Lampros ; " let us go into black Miso- 
 longhi and die there free. We have seen the good days of 
 liberty. Whoever lives is going to see slavery again." 
 
 " Do you think, Kyra R , that we shall be able to get 
 
 into Misolonghi ? " said Andronike. 
 
 " Let us see ! To-night let us stay at Amourani, and to- 
 morrow, as soon as it begins to be light, let us climb on 
 foot to the top of the hills. From there we shall see what 
 to do. I am going to put on man's clothes too." So the 
 next day they climbed the lofty mountains of Aracynthus. 
 
 "Why! why! why! What fire and smoke! What 
 hosts of soldiers and ships ! " cried Kyra R . 
 
 Below them lay the armies of Reshid Pasha, burning all 
 the woods and villages around Misolonghi, and the formid- 
 able fleet of Chosreph Pasha, investing the city by sea. 
 
 " Utterly impossible to get in," said Andronike. 
 
 " We must burrow on the mountains, and, as we find a 
 chance, approach little by little until some dark night we 
 will manage to work in." 
 
 "That is the wisest way," replied Andronike. 
 
 For almost three whole months Lampros, his mistress, 
 
 and Kyra R were obliged to wander and hide among 
 
 the thick shrubs and caves of the mountain. At last, on 
 the twenty-fifth of September, they entered Misolonghi. 
 
BOOK V 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE THIRD SIEGE OF MISOLONGHI 
 
 The anxiety of Thrasyboulos at the protracted absence 
 of Lampros and the non-arrival of his betrothed had become 
 anguish. After seven months the ship " Hermilios " had ar- 
 rived, and from her captain he learned about their wander- 
 ings to Malta, Trieste, and Naples, and their landing in the 
 Peloponnesus. So from moment to moment he had ex- 
 pected to see them enter Misolonghi. This expectation 
 had been increased by the arrival of the young Demetrios 
 Couleas, who had come overland, and who assured him that 
 Andronike set out some time before for the same destination. 
 
 The unskilful treatment of his wound by the physicians, 
 as we have said elsewhere, had aggravated its painful and 
 serious character. Not till the beginning of 1825, did he 
 begin to feel somewhat better and prepare to leave the 
 city. 
 
 Meanwhile, toward the beginning of that same year, 
 Reshid Pasha, now Vizir of Roumelia, arrived to undertake 
 the third siege. He was accompanied by Tachir Abas, the 
 famous prefect of Yanina, and by the haughty Ismail 
 Pliasas who had won the battle of Peta. All these com- 
 manders, with twenty thousand men, invested Misolonghi, 
 thirsting to avenge what Omer Brione and the Scodra Pasha 
 had formerly suffered before its gates. 
 
 In addition Reshid Pasha was expecting by sea the im- 
 mense Egyptian, Lybian, and Turkish fleets, and from the 
 Peloponnesus the drilled and disciplined armies of Ibrahim 
 Pasha. With such forces he counted on placing Greece 
 once for all under the heel of the sultan. Never did the 
 horizon of a city hang with blacker clouds and echo with 
 louder thunderbolts than that of Misolonghi. The garrison 
 did not comprise more than four thousand soldiers ; but the 
 
The Third Siege of Misolonghi 401 
 
 city contained the graves of heroes, of Botsaris and Byron, 
 and was defended by the bastions named after Rhegas, 
 William Tell, William of Orange, Franklin. 
 
 What had become of Omer Brione, who during the first 
 two years was the hero of the Sublime Porte ? That 
 fierce and ungrateful bey, who, trampling ^over the heads 
 of his former masters Ali and Chourshid, had been ap- 
 pointed Satrap of Yanina, had incurred the displeasure of 
 his royal master. The sultan suspected that his conduct 
 was directed by regard for his own interests rather than for 
 the welfare of the empire. So he was removed from the 
 high pashalik of Yanina and given an inferior position. 
 
 Reshid Pasha, perhaps the ablest vizir who had arisen in 
 Turkey since the days of the great Keupriuli, had been 
 invested with unlimited powers. Drawing the lines of the 
 siege as close as possible, on the thirtieth of May he dug 
 his second parallel six paces distant from the Greek ram- 
 parts, and constructed two new batteries, one toward the 
 west and one directly opposite that of Marcos Botsaris. 
 To hasten on the completion of his intrenchments, follow- 
 ing the example of Vechet Pasha at Scio, he collected six 
 hundred Christian peasants from the fields of Macedonia 
 and Thessaly, and by blows and torture compelled them to 
 dig the trenches. 
 
 The bombs of Reshid Pasha speedily wrought great havoc 
 in the city ; but the enthusiasm of the men, women, and espe- 
 cially of the children, who climbed daily on the walls and 
 stoned the Turks, showed the Yizir of Epirus that he would 
 not purchase Misolonghi at a cheaper price than had the 
 Scodra Pasha and Omer Brione. 
 
 Thrasyboulos, though limping, was always at the ram- 
 parts with Carl. He seemed almost happy that Andronike 
 had not arrived at Misolonghi, for its fate was most uncer- 
 tain, despite all the resolution of the besieged. 
 
 The tenth of June was a day of joy. The Greek flag was 
 sighted off the harbor. Captain Demos ISTencas arrived 
 with seven ships, and his presence turned the blockading 
 fleet to flight, and opened up communication with the for- 
 tress by sea. This joy was, however, of brief duration ; for 
 exactly one month later Chosreph Pasha was descried in 
 the horizon. He had escaped, though defeated in a battle 
 with Admiral Sactouris off the island of Andros. In that 
 engagement the Hydriot commander had destroyed the flag- 
 
 26 
 
402 Andronike 
 
 ship with its entire crew of eight hundred men, as well as 
 a second frigate, two corvettes, and a brig. He had also 
 driven fifteen other vessels on the rocks of Eubcea, Tenos, 
 and Syra, and had captured twelve transports with soldiers 
 and stores. But Chosreph's fleet was still formidable, com- 
 prising eight frigates, twelve corvettes, and twenty other 
 smaller vessels of war, which, notwithstanding all their 
 losses, were strong enough to furnish immense assistance 
 to Reshid Pasha. 
 
 To further augment the overwhelming forces of the 
 enemy, Yusuph Pasha of Patras had sent thirty-six floating 
 batteries. These were able to intercept the communication 
 of Misolonghi with the neighboring islands, and to come up 
 close to its walls. 
 
 The position of the besieged changed at once for the 
 worse. Provisions began to fail. Their military stores 
 were half exhausted, and they were absolutely cut off from 
 the rest of the world, both by land and sea. 
 
 The bombardment grew terrific. The neighboring forests 
 and villages became a mass of flames and smoke. The 
 floating batteries, fighting with the smaller Greek vessels, 
 forced their way as far as the island of Scylla. The Turks 
 now filled the trenches in front of the bastions of Franklin, 
 Rhegas, and William of Orange with boughs, bags of earth, 
 rubbish, and trunks of olive-trees, over which they proposed 
 to march to the assault. 
 
 A flag of truce appeared. Soon Tachir Agha and six 
 other beys arrived to demand the surrender of Misolonghi 
 upon honorable terms. 
 
 The Greeks replied laconically, "Arms are the only 
 agreement between Turks and Greeks." 
 
 What a night followed ! The desperate Greeks erected 
 seven new batteries along the shore, opened counter- 
 trenches, threw out new defences at the weaker points, and 
 burned a great part of the material with which the enemy 
 had filled the main trench. 
 
 A great part of all that Reshid had gained was lost. The 
 next day the batteries on the shore compelled the fleet that 
 had caused such havoc in the city by its bombs to retire. 
 The greatest quiet now succeeded the movements of the 
 Turks. One might have supposed they intended to aban- 
 don the siege. This inactivity was only apparent. On 
 the twenty-eighth, there was a prolonged peal of thunder, 
 
The Third Siege of Misolonghi 403 
 
 accompanied by irregular earthquake shocks, and at the 
 same time a large part of the bastion of Botsaris leaped 
 into the air. It had been undermined. The Turks rushed 
 in from every direction to the breach, and planted their 
 crescent flag. 
 
 An obstinate hand-to-hand fight ensued, which lasted 
 three hours, and ended with the withdrawal of the Ottomans. 
 
 Reshid Pasha, none the less, sent envoys demanding the 
 keys and offering an amnesty. 
 
 The Greeks in reply sent him a very courteous letter, and 
 four bottles of rum for him to encourage his standard 
 bearers with at the next assault. 
 
 At last the Greek fleet arrived. The winds had ceased 
 that so long detained it around the Peloponnesus. It was 
 under the command of the two famous admirals, Sactouris 
 and Miaoulis. 
 
 The next day, the third of August, these two advanced 
 toward their old acquaintance Chosreph Pasha, between 
 Misolonghi and Cape Papas. The battle did not last long. 
 After three fire-ships had been launched upon him, the 
 cowardly butcher of Psara hoisted sail, took to flight, and 
 did not stop till he reached Alexandria, where he unwill- 
 ingly threw himself into the arms of his implacable enemy, 
 Mehmet Ali. The other commanders imitated his shameful 
 example ; some of them followed him, and others fled to 
 Ithaca. 
 
 The sky of Misolonghi on its seaward side grew brighter, 
 but the black clouds dissipated there, only gathered thicker 
 toward the land. Reshid Pasha was not a man to retreat. 
 He now commenced a bold and original undertaking. It 
 was to build a high mound of earth, one hundred and sixty 
 paces long and ten wide, and constantly push it forward 
 until, on reaching the bastion of Franklin, he should be 
 able from it to command the very centre of the city. 
 
 Like Cheops and Cephrenes, who employed their thou- 
 sands of Egyptians to raise hills of earth in the construction 
 of the pyramids, so in the space of two weeks, by the forced 
 labor of Christian peasants, Reshid Pasha brought his 
 mound to completion. By a desperate battle he gained 
 possession of the bastion of Franklin, and connected his 
 mound with it. 
 
 The Greeks, who had opened ditches and raised embank- 
 ments on both sides of the captured bastion, working night 
 
404 Andronike 
 
 and day with tireless zeal, so strengthened their defences 
 that the seraskier, who looked upon Misolonghi as already 
 in his hands, found himself soon taken between two cross 
 fires. 
 
 On the thirty-first the Greeks advanced from every direc- 
 tion upon the lost bastion, to expel the enemy. Otherwise 
 the Turks would have been able to push their formidable 
 mound to the very heart of Misolonghi. After a fierce and 
 deadly struggle, they drove out the Turks and regained the 
 bastion. At the same time they levelled off the main part 
 of the mound, or its point of junction with the Greek 
 defences. 
 
 The hallelujahs of the pasha were changed to fear and 
 despair. The sultan, in his firman appointing him seras- 
 kier, had bidden him bring the keys of Misolonghi or his own 
 head. 
 
 Reshid persisted with still fiercer determination. Under 
 cover of a furious bombardment, having obtained reinforce- 
 ments from the neighborhood of Salona, and impressing 
 other Christian diggers from the villages, with obstinate 
 perseverance he again joined his mound with the bastion 
 of Franklin, and got everything ready for a general assault. 
 
 This the Greeks had been expecting a long time. Now, 
 obtaining more definite information from some Albanian 
 deserters, thejr dug deep counter-mines, and proceeded to 
 telescope in every direction. The seraskier hastened on his 
 preparations for the assault. He ordered an attack at 
 various points, thinking the besieged were planning a 
 general sally. 
 
 The twenty-first of September arrived. The assailing 
 horde rushed to the onset, followed by horsemen armed with 
 whips. The Greeks resisted for many hours, and gradually 
 drew their foes in the direction of the bastion of Franklin. 
 Then came the explosion of the mines. The earth shook. 
 The bastion and the top of the mound were rent and as by a 
 thunderbolt the bodies of the Mussulmans and the rocks 
 beneath were hurled into countless fragments. 
 
 This unlooked-for catastrophe turned all the survivors to 
 flight. The Greeks, by a cannonade and a sortie, completed 
 the victory, and for a time broke up the third siege of the 
 city. 
 
 Now the gates toward the land were open like those 
 toward the sea. Many a hoplarch brought reinforcements; 
 
The Surgical Operation 405 
 
 others near Vonitsa cut off and seized the stores of Reshid, 
 and captured one hundred and thirty camels, eighty mules, 
 and thirty horses. 
 
 The situation of the seraskier had assumed an unexpected 
 form. Most of his Albanians deserted; provisions began 
 to fail him ; his marshy and miry camp engendered disease ; 
 and the timid Chosreph with his fleet had forsaken him 
 once more. So he determined to remove his camp to a 
 distance from Misolonghi, and give his army a chance to 
 recruit until the long-waited-for Ibrahim Pasha of Egypt 
 should arrive. 
 
 On his retreat the exulting Greeks climbed their battle- 
 ments and shouted in derision after the baffled seraskier. 
 "Where are you, you buffoon? What has become of 
 your Asiatic victories ? Why don't you come on and try 
 one of those general attacks which you have threatened so 
 often ? Better go and get comfort from your Prophet ! " 
 
 Thrasyboulos took an active part all through the siege. 
 Disregarding the entreaties of Carl, and all the advice of 
 his physicians, he refused to spend a single night in his bed. 
 He was always at the ramparts, exposed to every hard- 
 ship, and deprived of rest. His wound opened afresh. 
 Feeling that a general assault was at hand, he preferred to 
 die rather than absent himself from the field of honor. 
 Therefore, on that last decisive day, he took so active a part 
 that, as soon as the bastion was blown up, and the barbarians 
 overthrown, he fell fainting upon the ground. 
 
 Carl took him upon his back and carried him to his room. 
 The next day the physicians positively stated that the am- 
 putation of his leg was the only means of saving his life. 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE SURGICAL OPERATION 
 
 Thrasyboulos lay stretched out upon his bed, exhausted, 
 and pale as wax. His eyes were fixed and heavy from 
 disease. 
 
 Near him sat Demetrios Couleas, holding and rubbing 
 his hands ; and on the other side of the bed stood his faithful 
 Hungarian in a melancholy and dejected attitude. 
 
406 Andronike 
 
 A well kept eat and a dog were asleep close to each other, 
 with unusual amiability, in the middle of the chamber. The 
 room was plainly furnished. It resembled rather the abode 
 of a pauper than of that wealthy Thrasyboulos whom we 
 know. Many moments passed without a word being said. 
 Finally a knock was heard on the street door. 
 
 " They are coming," Thrasyboulos whispered, and his dull 
 eyes glistened and a faint flush gave expression to his face. 
 " There are the doctors, Carl," he said ; " go and open the 
 door." 
 
 He buried his face in his hands as Carl went out. 
 
 " Courage, my friend, courage ! It is your hard fate." 
 
 " I am not weeping, my Couleas, at losing my foot, but 
 at losing Andronike forever." 
 
 " Why, Thrasyboulos ? I don't see that. Andronike 
 loves you with all her heart. She swears by your name. 
 And then, too, she passionately loves her country, and an in- 
 jury received in fighting for your country will never change 
 her sentiments." 
 
 " That is not what I mean. If I survive, I must break 
 off my engagement. It is wrong and ridiculous for a beggar 
 like me to think of becoming the husband of such a beauti- 
 ful and magnificent girl. I am penniless. Whatever I 
 had I have spent, as you know, in buying food for the 
 inhabitants during this siege. I have nothing left but 
 my sword." 
 
 The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Carl, 
 who ushered in the three physicians. 
 
 Thrasyboulos shuddered at the sight of them, and again 
 buried his face in his hands. 
 
 "I have brought two assistants with me," said Dr P , 
 
 the chief physician of the city. " You must harden your 
 heart a little, and within ten minutes all your torments will 
 be over, Thrasyboulos." 
 
 " Are you absolutely certain, doctor, that my life cannot 
 be saved without cutting off my leg ? Examine it a little 
 more. Think of it ! It is a crime for me to be lame all 
 my life." Thrasyboulos was pale and overcome by fear. 
 
 " If I had not been absolutely certain, I should not have 
 spoken so firmly, my friend. Don't be afraid. The pain 
 of cutting it off will be even much less than what you have 
 already endured. A soldier like you to be so afraid ! " 
 
 " Yes, I am afraid, doctor. I am not so afraid to die ; but 
 
The Surgical Operation 407 
 
 I am frightened at the mere idea of being lame and wretched, 
 and hence useless all the rest of my life." 
 
 " No ! Don't take things that way ! Look at this wound, 
 gentlemen," turning to his assistants, " and give me your 
 opinion if a cure is possible any other way, if the delay in 
 the operation will not bring on the consequences which I 
 predict." 
 
 The two hard-featured men, wearing the fustanella, and 
 appearing to be anything rather than physicians, approached 
 the bed, threw back the bed-clothes, and began to scrutinize 
 the wound. Very soon one of them took his handkerchief 
 from his pocket, pressed it to his nose, and said, " Gangrene 
 has begun ! " 
 
 " My God ! My God ! " Thrasyboulos exclaimed. 
 
 "Let us not lose time," said his companion. 
 
 "Courage, Thrasyboulos, courage," Couleas forced him- 
 self to say, though finding the sight unendurable. 
 
 "I must make one remark, doctors. This fearful siege 
 has made me penniless. Perhaps I have something left, 
 but it is at Odessa, where it is almost impossible to get it, 
 so you must take into account the fact that I have no 
 means of paying you for your trouble. I have nothing 
 left but my arms, from which only death shall separate 
 me." 
 
 "Poor Thrasyboulos! All that I myself had, I also 
 spent in this siege. You know that the last diamond 
 which Andronike gave me I spent during your sickness," 
 said the noble-hearted Couleas. 
 
 " And I too ! Did n't I sell my clothes for my master ? " 
 added Carl. 
 
 The physicians looked at each other inquiringly. 
 
 "If you cannot perform this operation without payment, 
 doctors, then let me die. That is what I prefer with my 
 whole soul." 
 
 "No ! No ! Let me say a few words to you in private, 
 gentlemen," said the chief doctor to his assistants, and 
 they withdrew for a few moments to the other chamber. 
 
 The reader understands that these physicians had 
 studied only in the school of experience. Perhaps neither 
 of them could have written his name. Such was then 
 the condition of affairs. Education was so precious that 
 whoever had a smattering of it could become minister 
 and general and president. 
 
408 Andronike 
 
 "Kyrios Thrasyboulos, we thoroughly understand your 
 position, so we do not ask any payment for the present, but 
 only a written agreement that after three years you will 
 
 pay us three hundred piastres," said Dr P as they 
 
 returned. 
 
 " Write it, and I will sign at once." 
 
 "I, as chief surgeon, have another small request to 
 make." 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 " Give me that pair of pets, your cat and dog. I want 
 them for my children to play with. Where can a cat be 
 found in Misolonghi now ! " 
 
 "Take them too, and for Christ's sake, finish ! " 
 
 The agreement was signed, and the chief physician took 
 his surgical instruments out of a small box which he had 
 with him. 
 
 "Bind my eyes," said the nephew of the patriarch. 
 
 "Don't be afraid! Only two minutes more! Drink a 
 good glass of water." 
 
 Couleas gave him a glass of water, and then bound his 
 eyes. 
 
 "Don't leave me, brother. I don't know, but my soul 
 feels as if it were parting from my body. I am not 
 myself," and he gripped him by the arm. 
 
 "Courage, Thrasyboulos. It isn't anything," he said, 
 hardening himself. 
 
 According to the direction of the surgeon, Carl took his 
 position behind his master, who sat upon the bed, and 
 clasped him in his two arms. The well leg had been 
 firmly fastened to the bed so as to remain immovable. 
 
 Then with a large saw Dr P commenced to cut, just 
 
 five fingers above the knee. 
 
 The tortured youth opened his lips and clenched his teeth 
 to breaking, while the horrible operation went on. Only 
 the rough and apathetic faces of the physicians showed no 
 emotion. 
 
 At last Thrasyboulos swooned, at the very moment when 
 the leg was detached from the body. 
 
 At the same instant a loud knock was heard at the 
 outer door. 
 
 Couleas, who needed a breath of pure air after what he 
 
 had seen, hurried to the window. Below were Kyra R , 
 
 Lampros, and Andronike. 
 
Lethargy 409 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 LETHABGT 
 
 " Lady, you have come at the worst possible moment ! 
 I am glad to see you ! How are you, Lampros ? " Couleas 
 himself had come down to let them in, and spoke in a 
 hollow tone. 
 
 " And are you here, Kyrios Couleas ! What is going 
 on ? my Panaghia ! You are pale as death ! " 
 
 " You cannot see Thrasyboulos for several days. Sit down 
 here, and I will tell you everything." 
 
 " Is the master very sick, do you think ? " Lampros 
 asked. 
 
 "They told us that his wound had grown worse/' 
 Kyra R added. 
 
 Couleas in a few words told them all. Andronike buried 
 her face in her handkerchief, and began to sob. So too did 
 Lampros and Kyra R . 
 
 "Who is the other lady ? " Couleas asked the armatolos. 
 
 " She is a relative of Odysseus and an old acquaintance 
 of Kyrios Thrasyboulos. There is Carl. Ask him about 
 her." 
 
 Carl had come down to see who were there, and, finding 
 Lampros with the two women, he at once understood the 
 sad coincidence of their arrival. 
 
 Couleas went up and called the chief physician, while the 
 two servants embraced each other. 
 
 " Lady," said Dr P roughly. Then interrupting him- 
 self, he turned to Kouleas and whispered, " What a beauti- 
 ful woman ! " while she held her face in her hands and kept 
 on sobbing. "Lady," he repeated, touching her lightly on 
 the shoulder, "you better have come to Misolonghi, and 
 not found your lover alive, than find him now with only one 
 foot." 
 
 " It is the will of God ! When can I see him, doctor ? " 
 
 " My two assistants are now restoring him to consciousness. 
 You see he was sure to faint after such suffering and loss 
 of blood. In an hour or two he will be better. Then he 
 must have a long sleep. If he sleeps seven or eight hours, 
 to-morrow or the day after, Carl must gradually inform 
 
410 Andronike 
 
 him that you are expected at Misolonghi in a few days. You 
 cannot see him for a week. If your beloved Thrasyboulos 
 has the slightest excitement or emotion it will kill him." 
 
 " Can I not now at least look at him from a distance, while 
 he is unconscious ? Only for one minute, doctor ! I will 
 give only one glance at his face ! It is just seven years 
 that we have been separated ! I beseech you ! " Her 
 voice was again drowned in sobs. 
 
 "Do you promise that you will only look and not make 
 a sound ? Can you control yourself without fainting ? 
 We should then have two on our hands ! I have lost all 
 my day here, and I have a hundred other wounded people 
 to see." 
 
 " Stay here ! Stay here for my dear Thrasyboulos, and 
 I will pay you all you lose from the others. He needs con- 
 stant attendance, and a physician at his bed until he is out 
 of danger. What! Are you getting ready to go away, 
 doctor ? " 
 
 " Yes, my lady. I have left all my directions, and I 
 must go. Carl, bring down the cat and dog." 
 
 " Our pet Psipsica ! We are going to give him our cat, 
 Lampros, and then won't this old shanty be full of mice ! " 
 said Carl. 
 
 "What are we giving her away for ? " 
 
 The Hungarian whispered into the ear of Lampros how 
 poverty-stricken Thrasyboulos was. 
 
 " Stop, doctor ! You are not going to take Psipsica and 
 Mourgo. I will pay." 
 
 He took Andronike aside, and told her what Carl had 
 confided to him. 
 
 " Doctor, give me your three bills, and I will pay," said 
 Andronike, as she came back. 
 
 The doctor looked at her stupidly. 
 
 " Give me your bill, I say, and I will pay you." 
 
 One of the other physicians went up to the chamber, and 
 soon brought the bills of one hundred piastres apiece. 
 
 "Here is your money in gold, doctor. Take, also, this 
 diamond ring. I give it to you, and I beg you to remain 
 here till my Thrasyboulos is out of danger." 
 
 On seeing the diamond, worth about five thousand piastres, 
 the physician was confounded. He looked at it, and turned 
 it in every direction. Full of delight, and lavishing thanks 
 and promises, he started to go up to the other physicians. 
 
Lethargy 411 
 
 " Can I follow you ? Only let me look at him from a 
 distance ! I promise you ! " 
 
 " Come, lady, but take care not to make any noise. Don't 
 let him see you when he comes to, or you will send him at 
 once to the grave." 
 
 Andronike went up, followed by Lampros and Kyra 
 R . 
 
 Thrasyboulos was still unconscious, and the bed-clothing, 
 which covered him, somewhat concealed his fearful situ- 
 ation. 
 
 The two assistant physicians were rubbing his nose and 
 neck with vinegar to restore consciousness. His face was 
 unshaven, and his dark chestnut hair increased still more 
 the pallor of his face. 
 
 Andronike was speechless and overwhelmed at the im- 
 mense change in her lover. Then she was so overcome 
 with emotion that she began to tremble and shiver con- 
 vulsively. Her face took on a wild look, and she seemed 
 about to fall senseless or to lose her reason. 
 
 " It is enough, lady. Come down. I am afraid you are 
 suffering terribly," said Dr P . 
 
 "No, nothing is the matter with me. Let me stay a minute 
 longer," she whispered. Then going up to the bed, she bent 
 down and kissed him on the forehead, took his hand and 
 pressed it to her heart, all the time shedding bitter tears. 
 
 Finally the sick man gave signs of consciousness. Then 
 the three physicians, after many entreaties, persuaded the 
 sorrowing girl to leave the room. 
 
 "For three days at least, this man must not hear her 
 name," said the chief physician to Lampros. 
 
 " Where am I ? Oh, what pain this is ! They are pierc- 
 ing my brain with burning needles ! " moaned the sick man, 
 with a deep groan, and a few moments afterwards he opened 
 his eyes. 
 
 "How do you feel, Thrasyboulos ?" Couleas asked him. 
 
 " Just as a man feels who has n't any foot," he replied, 
 with tears. 
 
 " Don't cry, my friend. Don't take it so hard. You 
 must keep your mind quiet so your body can get well." 
 
 " Horrible pain, my brother ! You have n't an idea what 
 agony I was in when the saw began to cut the bone. I feel 
 as if I should lose my mind at the thought of it ! Did they 
 stop the bleeding well ? Did they bind it up well ? " 
 
412 Andronike 
 
 "Everything is all right. Now you must take a little 
 chicken broth, and then try to sleep seven or eight hours, 
 my friend," said the doctor. 
 
 " Chicken broth ! A chicken at Misolonghi is worth ten 
 piastres ! Where shall I find ten piastres ? " 
 
 " I got one for you, and in a few moments it will be nicely 
 cooked," said Dr P . 
 
 "Truly?" 
 
 " Truly ; and I promise to send you one every day until 
 you are perfectly well." 
 
 " You are a marvel, both as to science and as to philan- 
 thropy, doctor ! I thank you ! " 
 
 " I will leave you now for the present to the care of my 
 assistant physicians. To-morrow morning I shall come and 
 dress your wound. The thing, however, which I insist upon 
 most of all, is that you try to sleep." 
 
 "I thank you, and am grateful to you, doctor. Carl, 
 accompany the doctor, and take Psipsica and Mourgo to his 
 house." 
 
 "Did you take that seriously, Thrasyboulos ? I was 
 joking you. What do I want of your dog and cat ? " 
 
 " You are an original, doctor ! I could n't myself under- 
 stand how it was possible for you to ask those pets from 
 me at such a frightful time ! I love that same Psipsica. 
 Give the little creature to me, Carl. I should have felt 
 very sorry if I had lost her." 
 
 The doctor departed. 
 
 " What a curious man ! I felt such aversion for him 
 when he asked me for my cat, that I was almost ready to 
 forbid his cutting off my foot, rather than give her up. I 
 have had her ever since I came to Misolonghi. It comforts 
 me to pet her. How often have I spent whole hours listen- 
 ing to her monotonous purr, thinking of my beautiful days 
 in Arcadia, of Andronike, of the villany of Barthakas, of 
 the future, and of the present condition of Greece ! To 
 what a hell Fortune has changed my once happy life ! Who 
 knows what my Andronike is suffering ! As for myself, I 
 want to keep .my precious one forever in my mind, and yet 
 I dread to remember her, for I recall all she has endured." 
 
 Carl soon brought the broth. About sunset, the sick 
 man, utterly crushed by bodily and mental agony, passed 
 from sleep into profound lethargy. 
 
The Illusion a Reality 413 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE ILLUSION A REALITY 
 
 Lampros and Kyra R threw themselves down to rest. 
 
 They were utterly worn out by their long wanderings. 
 Couleas went away to his house, and the two physicians, 
 who lived in the neighborhood, also withdrew. Andronike, 
 however, obstinately refused to take any repose, and was 
 determined to watch over her friend all night long. So 
 she put on the clothes of an old nurse, covered her face 
 with a white veil, and leaning her head on the bed waited 
 in silence. Carl was asleep on a divan in the next room. 
 
 The Arcadian girl revolved in her imagination all she 
 had endured. She recalled all her recent afflictions, and 
 felt a sense of exultation in now sitting in safety near 
 the man whom she so passionately loved. The sudden 
 thought flashed through her mind that she too must be 
 equally changed. She noticed a small mirror hanging on 
 the wall. She had not seen her own face for weeks and 
 months. She got up, and holding the watchlight approached 
 the mirror. She was more beautiful than ever ! The 
 cold, clear water of the springs, the pure, transparent 
 mountain air, frugality in food, activity and hardship, 
 had colored and polished her cheeks like two apples of 
 the Hesperides. Youth and health could not be pictured 
 under a fairer image. Only tears, sorrow, and wakeful- 
 ness, adding a pathetic expression to her deep, dark eyes, 
 had increased the charms of her lovely face, She returned 
 to her seat pensively, not self-satisfied, and yet not self- 
 displeased. 
 
 About midnight the lethargy of Thrasyboulos yielded to 
 a troubled and restless sleep. He began to breathe with 
 difficulty, and in his fever to mutter incoherent words, 
 among which she often caught her own name and that of 
 Barthakas. During those moments the invalid was under 
 the power of an evil dream. He saw Barthakas in his 
 high rank as pasha of three tails, clothed with the costliest 
 and most splendid Turkish robes, luxuriously seated in a 
 glittering hall on a gorgeous divan, and holding Andronike 
 in his arms, who seemed fresh and beautiful as the rose, 
 
414 Andronike 
 
 and was decked with pearls and diamonds. He thought he 
 himself stood opposite, lame, leaning on his crutches, and 
 dressed in beggarly rags. They jeered at and despised him. 
 In vain he tried to remind his former betrothed of their 
 oath at the Styx. In vain he showed his betrothal ring. 
 Finally, however, Andronike began to be touched and to 
 weep, whereupon Barthakas sprang up and ordered Kara 
 Seid Ali to drown him in the lake of Yanina. Thrasyboulos 
 resisted, shouted, and prayed. As he was being dragged 
 from the hall, struggling and in agony, he awoke. He felt 
 a sharp pain in his leg, which seemed to run through all 
 the marrow of his bones, and at the same time dispelled 
 the dream from his excited fancy. 
 
 Andronike, with a loudly beating heart, retired a little 
 behind his pillow, and remained immovable and outwardly 
 calm. Thrasyboulos raised his head, tried to turn on the 
 other side, but again was overpowered by drowsiness, and 
 fell asleep. 
 
 Again he seemed to be clutched by Kara Seid Ali, who 
 was drowning him, when the patriarch Gregory appeared, 
 clothed in white, and holding Andronike by the hand. 
 Thrasyboulos, in agitation, was throwing himself at his 
 feet when the form began to vanish like a shadow. With 
 a start he awoke and half rose upon the bed. At the same 
 moment the young woman, alarmed at his fever and diffi- 
 culty of breathing, arose to call some one to her assistance. 
 
 At the sight of the tall, veiled nurse he opened his eyes 
 wider, and fastened them upon her fixedly. Then taking 
 her for a spirit consoling his solitude, he whispered, 
 "Who are you? What do you want of me?" 
 
 The question ran like a flame through the veins of the 
 young Peloponnesian. The sound of his voice poured an 
 unspeakable joy upon her heart. Perhaps she would have 
 lost self-control and thrown herself into his arms, telling 
 him who she was, if the warning of the physician that 
 she might kill him had not restrained her. 
 
 "How are you, sir?" the pretended nurse asked, care- 
 fully changing her voice. 
 
 Thrasyboulos raised his head upon his elbow on the 
 pillow, and, still controlled by his dream, murmured, " My 
 angel ! My snow-white Andronike ! Is it you? " He fell 
 back rmd buried his face in his pillow. 
 
 Andronike thought she was recognized, and throwing 
 
The Illusiofi a Reality 415 
 
 off her veil pressed her alabaster cheek on the burning face 
 of Thrasyboulos, murmuring, " My Thrasyboulos ! My 
 darling Thrasyboulos ! " 
 
 Her voice rang in his hearing, in the chambers of his 
 heart, like that which bade Lazarus arise. His whole 
 frame revived; he raised his face, and, laying his hand on 
 the fair head of the young woman, "Is it you, Andronike? 
 For God's sake, speak ! Is it you yourself? " 
 
 "Yes, it is I myself, Thrasyboulos. I have come at 
 last, but, oh, in what a state I find you ! " 
 
 " Oh, my uncle Gregory ! Oh, misery ! How wretched 
 I am ! " He hid his face and burst into tears. 
 
 " Thrasyboulos ! My being here will not harm you ! " 
 
 "No, my Andronike! Is it you yourself? Are you not 
 some deceitful phantom? Is n't it another dream? How 
 many days of my life I have passed in such dreams ! 
 How many phantom Andronikes I have seen; and when I 
 tried to embrace them, they fled and mocked me ! No, 
 you are not a dream, for I press you now in my arms ! 
 You are my beloved, my longed-for, my darling Andronike ! 
 Alas, in what a state you find me ! You, more beautiful, 
 more charming than ever, and I pale, lame, penniless ! " 
 
 "Don't cry ! Don't talk so, Thrasyboulos ! In my eyes 
 you are the same. My love for you has multiplied with 
 each new suffering, and to-day is stronger, far stronger, 
 than when we were parted. If you are poor and lame, it 
 is because you sacrificed everything for this our common 
 mother. Like a pillar of liberty, twice have you helped 
 sustain Misolonghi, and like a proud Spartan girl I shall 
 say, * Every one of your steps reminds me of one of your 
 virtues.' " 
 
 " You are an angel, a heavenly angel, my girl ! " 
 
 "As for wealth, I have much. All the large property 
 of my father is hidden near Demetzana. Only get a little 
 better, and we will fly from Misolonghi." 
 
 Thrasyboulos gave a deep groan, and did not utter a 
 word for a long time. With anxious interest and emotion 
 he listened to the history of his betrothed, and to the 
 details of her father's and brother's death. 
 
 "Every man in this world has his own history, but 
 yours surely surpasses every other. If you were only 
 mortal, Andronike, you would not have escaped the jaws 
 of death so often. As for your cowardly and wicked 
 
416 Andronike 
 
 teacher, I don't know what to say ! The ancients had a 
 tradition that man at creation was endowed with the 
 timidity of the hare, the cunning of the fox, the vanity of 
 the peacock, the cruelty of the tiger, and the nobility of 
 the lion. It appears that out of all these, in the deformed 
 body of Barthakas, there have thriven only the cruelty of 
 the tiger and the cunning of the fox. Do you know what 
 has become of him ? " 
 
 "He is somewhere with Ibrahim. He is always called 
 Arnaout Pasha." 
 
 " With Ibrahim ! Ibrahim is daily expected at Misolonghi ! 
 He has promised the sultan to subdue it. So then we 
 shall shortly have Barthakas as one of our besiegers." 
 Thrasyboulos smiled ironically. 
 
 " Forgive me, my friend, if now I beg you to go to sleep. 
 The physicians forbade my seeing you for at least a week. 
 If now my presence harms you, it will be the most terrible 
 of all my misfortunes." 
 
 "Your presence has given me life," said the sick man, 
 stretching his hand toward her. "Your presence has not 
 only banished my heart-rending melancholy, but has eased 
 my bodily pains. Now, Andronike, I feel so well! All 
 the oppression has gone from my breast; but you, darling, 
 need rest. Go to your chamber, and wake Carl or some 
 one else to stay near me." 
 
 "I am not so tired as all that, Thrasyboulos. Why do 
 you want to deprive me of the happiness of nursing you 
 till daylight? " 
 
 "If you stay near me, don't you feel that I shall not 
 close an eye? The story of our sufferings will excite my 
 fever. For us both it is better to separate for the 
 present." 
 
 "You are right, Thrasyboulos. I must leave you to 
 rest. Let me wake Carl. Do you want me to wake 
 Kyra E too?" 
 
 "IsKyraB here?" 
 
 "I forgot to tell you that I met her at the foot of 
 Aracynthus, and that we wandered about together for such 
 a long time in the mountains." 
 
 " A strange woman ! I see that we shall shortly have 
 comedies at Misolonghi. Yet that woman I remember 
 had a strong presentiment of the ingratitude of Gouras in 
 the Corycian Cave. She could not endure that man in 
 
The Coming of Ibrahim 417 
 
 any way. She was angry with Odysseus because he treated 
 him so kindly. See how her suspicions have turned 
 true ! " 
 
 The Hungarian took Andronike's place as a nurse. The 
 breast of Thrasyboulos was full of devout and grateful 
 feelings, and he slept for many hours a sweet and refresh- 
 ing sleep. 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE COMING OF IBRAHIM 
 
 One chilly day, the thirty-first of December, Thrasy- 
 boulos, who had just begun to move on crutches from one 
 
 end of the chamber to the other, Andronike, Kyra E , 
 
 and Lampros were sitting gloomily together, huddled up 
 on the floor and shaking from the unusual winter cold. 
 The blockade of Reshid Pasha had been drawn tighter 
 than ever. Chosreph Pasha, with his African fleets of 
 one hundred and thirty-five ships, had again appeared off 
 Misolonghi, and the brave Miaoulis, with thirty-two 
 vessels, had now been fighting him ten whole days without 
 being able to drive him away. The Hydriot vessels had 
 returned to Hydra to obtain stores and provisions. The 
 capoudan pasha Chosreph was left master of all the gulf 
 of Patras. 
 
 "I do not see either Carl or Couleas coming, lady, and 
 I am afraid that to-day again they cannot find either coal 
 or meat," said Kyra E, . 
 
 " Don't frighten me so ! Surely with so much money in 
 their hands they will be able to buy something," Andronike 
 replied. 
 
 " I think that since, according to appearances, the present 
 siege will be more severe than the others, it would be wise 
 from now on to spend all the money we have in buying 
 provisions," said Thrasyboulos. "Food is becoming every 
 day dearer and harder to get." 
 
 "Where now will you find provisions, effendi, in 
 Misolonghi? There is neither a fowl, nor a fish, nor a 
 goat. All the small supply of corn is finished which 
 Miaoulis brought here at the beginning of the month. 
 You won't find a grain of it now." 
 
 27 
 
418 Andronike 
 
 " Lampros is right, Thrasyboulos. If the Greeks don't 
 succeed in bringing provisions, we shall die, not from 
 cannon balls, but from famine." 
 
 " Have you lost your wits, lady, " Andronike asked, with 
 a faint smile. 
 
 " A hungry man loses them always. Hunger makes the 
 eyes so blind that you lose your wits and can't see in front 
 of you. Since yesterday I have not put a morsel in my 
 mouth." 
 
 "And aren't we too in the same state? Wait a little. 
 Surely with so much money Couleas and Carl must bring 
 something." 
 
 "Good! * A sop for the sick man till his soul flies.' 
 It is all the government's fault. It shut us up here and 
 don't care a damn if we die ! " 
 
 "Ah, if Odysseus was alive! He would not leave 
 Reshid here an hour," Lampros interrupted. 
 
 " Ah, if Odysseus was alive ! Would n't he eat up 
 Reshid ! Do you remember how he dashed down from the 
 top of Zygos and carried off the harvest? Don't you 
 remember what he did to Brione, to Dramalis, to Reshid? 
 Did the government give him a piastre to pay his soldiers 
 with? By the life-giving Cross, not because he is my 
 relative, but because it is the living truth, when I heard 
 how they killed him, I cried, ' Panaghia! Panaghia! It 
 is all over with the nation! \ If any can, let him pull us 
 out of the hole the learned people have thrown us into ! " 
 
 " Kyra R is right, but an asper is worth a thousand 
 
 words. Let us see how we shall get out of this situation," 
 said Thrasyboulos. 
 
 " If we get out ! Any one who gets out alive, he will 
 make the dogs laugh at his luck." 
 
 "It is frightfully cold to-night," Andronike whispered, 
 with chattering teeth, beating her hands on her shoulders 
 to get warm. 
 
 " It is from hunger. Take my cloak, Andronike. I feel 
 as if I were burning up, " said her lover. 
 
 "What do you mean? With my large cloak I am shiv- 
 ering, and you want to leave yours off! Do you suppose I 
 shall take it!" 
 
 The unfortunate young woman, who, during the last ten 
 days had lacked the necessaries of life, and whose fingers, 
 face, and lips were black from cold, tried to smile. 
 
The Coming of Ibrahim 419 
 
 "Take my cloak, lady," said Lampros. 
 
 "Keep your cloak, Lampros. Do you think that I am 
 colder than you are? I got up only to close the cracks. 
 There must be some in this window which let the wind 
 in." 
 
 Andronike tore a bit from her mantle to stuff into the 
 cracks. 
 
 "Do you want my opinion, lady?" Kyra K. inter- 
 rupted. "You better leave those cracks open. Every 
 window here has five hundred, and every door a thousand. 
 Did n't we leave the shutters and doors so we should have 
 some wood for lighting a fire ! You will tear up all your 
 clothes to fill the cracks, without filling them." 
 
 At this truth Andronike stood still. She had risen 
 under the pretext of closing a hole in the window, for she 
 wished to hide her frightful shivering which Lampros and 
 Thrasyboulos wanted to stop by their cloaks. When she 
 refused so firmly to take them, they grew gloomier still, 
 and could only pity her. 
 
 "You are right, Kyra R ," she cried, pretending to 
 
 laugh. " This is the way to get warm. Do you see those 
 spiders in the ceiling? Come, and try who can reach 
 them!" 
 
 "Bravo! While I am starving, do you think I am going 
 to hop to the ceiling! Sit down, lady, and don't try to 
 make us dance." 
 
 " Wait and see whether I can reach them or not ! 
 Look! " Andronike jumped, and could not reach the ceil- 
 ing. Seeing the dejection of the rest, and the starved 
 expressions on their faces, she hardened her heart, and 
 tried by forced gayety to banish thoughts of their 
 situation. 
 
 "ShaVt I reach it this time?" and she jumped again. 
 
 "Let me try with one leg," said Thrasyboulos, joking. 
 
 "Kyrios Thrasyboulos, are you crazy?" cried Kyra 
 E. . 
 
 " I wager, lady, that if you jump from this stool, you 
 
 won t reach the ceiling," said Lampros, rising as he spoke. 
 
 You will lose, you toothless old Lampros, if you lay 
 
 bets against us people who are only twenty-five years old." 
 
 ^ Toothless ! Try and beat me if you can! " 
 
 "Beat you, you old man Lampros! Catch me taking 
 
 you up ! " 
 
420 Andronike 
 
 "Won't you take up Lampros, lady?" said Andronike. 
 "I have seen him leap a ditch thirteen feet wide." 
 
 "I think I know why you don't take him up, Kyra 
 B ," Thrasyboulos added. 
 
 "Come here, you old man." 
 
 "Jump first, lady." 
 
 "There, I didn't touch it. Next time," she said, 
 jumping. 
 
 "Watch me now." 
 
 Lampros jumped, but lost his balance, and fell on the 
 floor near the cat, which sprang up like lightning and 
 darted away. 
 
 Kyra E began to boast; Andronike and Thrasyboulos 
 
 to laugh together, and the dog to bark. 
 
 Hunger and cold were forgotten. Like children, they 
 played and jested as to who could jump highest, who 
 reach the ceiling, who catch the spiders. 
 
 The sun was about setting when suddenly a loud hum- 
 ming sound was heard, followed by a prolonged rattle, 
 as if the sky were showering down glass. 
 
 " What is it? " said Thrasyboulos. " A. bomb must have 
 fallen in the next house ! " 
 
 " It must be a bomb ! Reshid must be near Misolonghi ! 
 So much the better ! Now we shall fight ! Death or 
 Liberty, instead of dying from hunger," Adronike replied. 
 
 All ran to their arms. At that moment the door opened 
 and Couleas and Carl entered, disheartened and weary. 
 
 " Bad news, friends. Did you understand that language? 
 It fell in the quarter back of us, and killed four people, 
 two men and two women. It broke every pane of glass. 
 That is the signal of Ibrahim's arrival. All Misolonghi 
 has climbed up on the ramparts, and is watching the move- 
 ments of his Arabs. They have landed at Cryoneri. 
 Their lances flash. They also have European music. We 
 can hear it from here." 
 
 " Good ! The more there are of them, the more enormous 
 the slaughter, and the more heroic the death," said 
 Thrasyboulos. 
 
 "Carl, did you find anything to eat? " 
 
 " I offered thirty piastres for two loaves of bread ; but 
 where could I find them? I tried for meat, but where? I 
 could n't find vegetables. If you gave not only three 
 hundred but a thousand piastres, you could not find bread 
 
The Hares of Misolonghi 421 
 
 to-day. I went to the magistrates, to the keepers of 
 stores, to the generals. The people were thick as ants 
 outside their doors, and begged for bread ; but who has any 
 to give them? " 
 
 " Forward, my boys ! Let us go out ! I on my one foot 
 will follow you and fight. It is better outside than inside. 
 Outside we will find something to eat," said Thrasyboulos. 
 
 "Carl and I will stay here a little while to rest, and 
 then join you," said Couleas. 
 
 Andronike tried to prevent Thrasyboulos from going out 
 of the house; but he persisted. All of them went out, 
 except the two last arrivals, and proceeded toward the ram- 
 parts, on which the rest of the inhabitants were crowded. 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE HAKES OP MISOLONGHI 
 
 Pride and ambition dominated Ibrahim. He was 
 resolved to master Misolonghi in spite of Omer Brione, 
 the Scodra Pasha, and Reshid, who had told the sultan it 
 was impregnable. He did not hurry. He thoroughly 
 understood the Greeks. Before undertaking an attack, he 
 wished from a distance to examine the city's ramparts, its 
 topography and means of defence. At the same time 
 many European advisers were in his train. He himself 
 had studied tactics a little under Generals Vogue and 
 Livron, and Colonel Seve, whom his father, the viceroy, 
 had succeeded, by high pay, in attaching to his service. 
 
 Thrasyboulos and Andronike found all Misolonghi at 
 the ramparts. They could see the disembarked Egyptian 
 army far out of range. Six standard bearers marched in 
 front. The artillery followed, and then came the squad- 
 rons of cavalry, and last of all the infantry by detachments. 
 
 The music, the drums beating time, the dense wheeling 
 columns, the glitter of the lances, even the uniforms, 
 made a deep impression on the light-armed Roumeliots. 
 
 "Well, I say ! Are all the Arabs become Europeans? " 
 one man exclaimed. 
 
 "Ah ! Let them come like that, little by little, close up 
 to our stone walls ! " said another. 
 
422 Andronike 
 
 1 " Down with him ! Down with him ! " all the Greeks 
 shouted, clapping their hands, throwing their caps into 
 the air, and beginning to jeer at the Arabs. 
 
 "Misolonghi has nothing to fear on the land side," said 
 Thrasyboulos to those who stood near him. 
 
 "Who has anything to fear from those Franco-Arab 
 mongrels! Give Misolonghi something to eat, and then 
 you will see. Do you know that since day before yester- 
 day evening I have had nothing to eat but a little bit of 
 leather strap. I rubbed the leather strap of my gun with 
 oil and roasted it in the coals, and that was my supper." 
 
 " Ah, comrade, my children and 1 have n't had any 
 breakfast yet," said another, with a proud smile. 
 
 "If Miaoulis brings us some corn, Misolonghi will be 
 all right." 
 
 "We have time yet. The prayers of heroes will be 
 heard," said Andronike. 
 
 " The soldiers, Kyrios Thrasyboulos, have begun to run 
 away. The clouds are growing black, and I am afraid of a 
 hurricane. Ah ! If we could get away before it comes 
 down," said Kyra E . 
 
 "It is strange the Turks don't fire another bomb." 
 
 "Their music made me forget my hunger," said 
 Andronike. "I am not hungry any longer." 
 
 "It is n't so with me, lady. A fine New Year's Day we 
 shall have to-morrow." 
 
 "The truth is, we must find something. Shall we be 
 without food to-morrow, the first day of the year ! A bad 
 beginning of the new year." 
 
 On their return they tried all the doors in the market- 
 place, one after the other, but found nothing. It is a fact 
 that after the inhabitants had eaten the camels, asses, and 
 mules, all Misolonghi went hungry. Whoever had pro- 
 visions put away, concealed them more carefully, and pre- 
 tended he had nothing. 
 
 They returned home disheartened and silent. By nine 
 o'clock the darkness could almost be felt. Each one 
 reclined on the floor and reflected. 
 
 "Carl, light a candle." 
 
 " There is n't a candle in the house nor in all Misolonghi," 
 said Couleas. 
 
 "We had a bit left yesterday evening." 
 
 " That was twenty -four hours ago, and a bit of candle 
 
The Hares of Misolongki 423 
 
 can't last very long with four starving people," said 
 Couleas. 
 
 Soon the deepest silence prevailed. While they were 
 sitting in the dark, a heavy shower began, accompanied 
 by lightning and thunder. The wind violently shook 
 the casements and the pieces of paper pasted over them. 
 Some of the windows had no panes, because the bombs of 
 the enemy had broken them. Others were without shut- 
 ters, for they themselves had torn them off to make a little 
 fire, and the cracks in others gaped wide open so the rain 
 entered and the wind whistled through. 
 
 "Now we shall be just like ducks," cried Kyra R , 
 
 rising, as the water reached her, from the place where 
 she sat. 
 
 " What the devil ! n said Thrasyboulos. " Wherever one 
 turns, he finds water." 
 
 " Fancy what the other rooms must be from which we 
 have stripped all the window shutters. Thrasyboulos, sit 
 on my knees so as not to get wet. For God's sake, think 
 of your wound ! " said Andronike. 
 
 "No, dear, I will stand up." 
 
 "Better burn the outer door, than the bed of Kyrios 
 Thrasyboulos. Let ? s cut down the outer door, so as to get 
 some wood. Who would come in! It is terrible for 
 Kyrios Thrasyboulos not to have a bed or stool to sit on 
 in such a storm. Ah, brothers, put your weapons in your 
 belt so they sha'n't become wet. Who knows but Ibrahim 
 to-night will try some trick," said Lampros. 
 
 A bright flash of lightning, preceding a terrific roar, for 
 an instant lit up the room so they could see each other. 
 All were standing up, and each was trying by that 
 momentary gleam to see in what direction there was no 
 water, and go there. However, all the floor was like a 
 lake. The water had poured in torrents through one of 
 the windows which had no outer shutter. Likewise the 
 water was dripping through the ceiling, which had been 
 loosened by the balls. 
 
 "Bah! Now I see why I am like a duck. The ceiling 
 is gone. Who carried it off? " 
 
 "The outer shutter is gone! Who in the devil stole 
 it?" said Thrasyboulos. 
 
 Each could see that the outer shutter was gone from one 
 of those small windows which are inserted usually near 
 
424 Andronike 
 
 the ceiling, between the ordinary chamber windows, so that 
 the light might fall under a sharper angle and thus 
 illuminate the room better. 
 
 "Now I understand why we are just like drowned rats," 
 said Lampros in his turn. 
 
 "Where is Carl? Carl!" 
 
 "He is n't here," Couleas answered. 
 
 " Where has he gone? " 
 
 "I sent him to go all over Misolonghi to find something 
 to eat. Otherwise we have a good chance of dying from 
 hunger." 
 
 "Bravo! We knocked at every door, the gold in our 
 hand, and not a crumb did we find; and that Hungarian, 
 with his Hungarian head and Hungarian tongue, will 
 probably find some ! " 
 
 "Don't say so, Kyra R ! How do you know? " 
 
 " What a hideous night ! Another flash of lightning ! 
 Another clap of thunder," whispered Andronike. 
 
 "Ibrahim knows how to call the thunderbolts from 
 heaven. I can't remember any night like it. That of 
 Dragatzana is nothing in comparison ! " 
 
 " Captain, our Christ knows that we have n't any fire, 
 and so lights us up," said Lampros. " I am not going to sit 
 here any longer, brothers. I am going out to the ramparts 
 with the pallikaris. I believe that the Arabs will play us 
 some trick this filthy night." 
 
 " Stay here ' Where would you go now? Is n't it night 
 to the Arabs too? They don't leave their tents in such 
 weather, for they are not used to either rain or cold," said 
 Thrasyboulos. 
 
 "I hear steps below. Carl has come. Carl! Is that 
 you? " Couleas cried. 
 
 "Ah, Panaghia! Probably Carl, empty-handed, has 
 found something," Kyra R exclaimed ironically. 
 
 "What have you got, Father Carl? " Lampros asked. 
 
 "A hare with onions, cooked in the oven." 
 
 " Hare cooked with onions ! Oh, I say, Carl talks well ! 
 It scents up all the house," the Suliot cried. 
 
 " How fragrant ! " 
 
 "Long live Carl ! Bravo, my Carl ! Where did you get 
 it, Carl? " said Couleas, laughing in the dark. 
 
 "I stayed and watched by the great gate of the fortress. 
 Many of those peasants whom Jfceshid has compelled to 
 
The Hares of Misolonghi 425 
 
 dig liis trenches were escaping from the Turks and com- 
 ing into Misolonghi, and one fellow had this hare. He 
 had caught it alive in its hole. The blessed peasant did 
 not know about the famine in Misolonghi ; and as soon as 
 I showed him the two hundred piastres, did he take them 
 or did n't he take them? " 
 
 "Long live Carl! Bravo!" 
 
 " Hungarian, and what a Hungarian ! " cried Kyra 
 
 E. . " Where is the Roumeliot with the patience and 
 
 calm of the Hungarian? He went like a bloodhound and 
 waited outside the hole till he caught it. Bravo, Carl ! 
 Joy to the mother who bore you, Carl ! While you were 
 so hungry, you waited till a hare, all cooked in the oven, 
 jumped at you ! Just let me have a mouthful, " added 
 Kyra E , groping in the darkness to find Carl. 
 
 " Listen, brothers. Let us share it like Christian brothers 
 and with economy, for it must last two days. Who shall 
 carve it? " said the veteran armatolos. 
 
 " Give it to your mistress to cut it, Carl. She will give 
 just right to each. Sit down, brothers, for the smell 
 makes my nose crazy. My stomach was ready to die," 
 the Suliot added. 
 
 "We can ? t sit down in the water. We must divide it 
 standing up. Give the tray to lady Andronike, Carl, and 
 go for a knife," said Couleas. 
 
 "A knife ! I say, brothers, are you hunting for leaves 
 in the grass? Give us your yataghan, Lampros. You 
 don't use a knife or a fork at a time like this," cried 
 Kyra R , uneasily. 
 
 Lampros, with his sharp yataghan, divided the hare into 
 many pieces, and Andronike distributed portions with 
 absolute justice among her companions. 
 
 Silence returned. The shower slackened ; the darkness 
 became still more dense ; but even the rumblings in the sky 
 did not disturb their satisfaction. 
 
 " Mourgo, here is a bone for you ! Where is Psipsica? 
 Psi-psi-psi ! " Thrasyboulos called. 
 
 * What ! Are you calling Psipsica at this time of night 
 and in the wet? " said Couleas, nudging Carl. 
 
 "It rains so, effendi, that Psipsica must have gone up 
 in the roof to find a rat," said Carl, nudging Kouleas in 
 return. 
 
 " Sugar-cane ! Honeycomb ! What in the world is so 
 
426 Andronike 
 
 sweet as these bones ! Bravo, Carl ! You are born to 
 luck ! Bravo ! You are worth whatever you say. Joy to 
 the woman who has you for a husband ! Ah, this is a 
 feast where the mother eats and does n't give her boy 
 
 any," said Kyra R , whose good humor returned with 
 
 the food. 
 
 " Psi-psi-psi ! Psipsica ! Psipsica ! " Thrasyboulos called 
 again in a loud voice. 
 
 " As if she would come ! If she was in the roof when 
 that bomb fell, terror would have made her run a long way 
 from Misolonghi," Couleas added, giving another punch 
 to the Hungarian. 
 
 "I don't know whether it comes from hunger, but I 
 never tasted finer meat," said Andronike. 
 
 "But where did you cook it, Carl, and where did you 
 get your butter? " asked Lam pros. 
 
 "In the oven I cooked it; and as for butter, I found 
 some." Putting his mouth close to the ear of Couleas, he 
 added, "That hare of Misolonghi took three pieces of 
 candle. The window-shutter did not make enough fire, 
 and I had to tear a big board from the roof in the next 
 room. The rain must have made a pond there ! " 
 
 "Your health! Joy to you, good friends, ladies and 
 gentlemen! Give us meat, give us drink, give us a song! 
 We won't be Turkish slaves, my boys. Embrace each 
 other! Ah! ah! ah!" cried Kyra R , merrily. 
 
 "What have you done with the skin of the hare?" 
 Lampros asked. 
 
 "I left it with the keeper of the oven." 
 
 " With the keeper of the oven ! " 
 
 " With the keeper of the oven ! What folly ! We could 
 have used it for a cap, a seat, a wrap, so many things," 
 Andronike said. 
 
 "Otherwise he would n't cook the hare." 
 
 "That changes the matter." 
 
 "Can you think of a rabbit skin at a time like this, 
 lady? Bring a hare, Carl, every day and not a rabbit 
 skin, and give his ears to the oven keeper," said the 
 Suliot, again interrupting with a loud laugh. 
 
 "Listen, ladies and gentlemen. I have something very 
 important to propose," said Carl. 
 
 "Silence! Order!" 
 
 "Since about half the hare is left on the tray, I propose 
 
The Council of War 427 
 
 that the lady Andronike lock it up in the cupboard, and 
 that to-morrow, at just the same hour, we celebrate the 
 new year 1826. God will provide for the future." 
 
 "Excellent! Bravo ! Carl speaks well," they all shouted 
 together. 
 
 " I did not believe that you had so much wisdom in your 
 head, my Carl. What do you think you are side of him, 
 Father Lampros, with all your gray hairs? Four days 
 and nights you hunted all through this town and could n't 
 find a hare nor even a cat." 
 
 " Good-night, old lady. Since your feast you can't do 
 anything but joke," said the armatolos, with some heat. 
 
 " ' Old lady ! ' The beggar, the magpie, the toothless old 
 Lampros, to call me an old lady ! Ah, you wretched 
 Misolonghi, what will you bring us to ! Lady Andronike 
 and I came here like two rosy-cheeked girls, and now our 
 troubles have made our faces like stones, and that white- 
 livered Lampros calls us old ladies ! " 
 
 They laughed louder still. The Suliot, humming, 
 "Ah, my queen of Caesarea," and bidding them good-night, 
 added with a moan, "Oh, if I stay here three months 
 longer, I shall look as if I was thirty ! " All would have 
 supposed she was forty at least. 
 
 Soon each stretched out on the floor and slept as well 
 as he could in the cold and wet. 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE COUNCIL OF WAR 
 
 From the wretched dwelling of Thrasyboulos and 
 Andronike let us pass to the splendid tent of Ibrahim 
 Pasha. Made of green cloth and with a great shining 
 golden ball on its pyramidal top, it was easily recognized 
 from a distance. Of spacious dimensions, it was divided 
 into many apartments furnished with Persian carpets, 
 stuffs of silk, silver vessels in profusion, and divans cov- 
 ered with African lion skins. Although the Egyptian 
 commander in all his other expeditions to Upper Egypt, 
 Arabia, Syria, and Peloponnesus had shown a Spartan 
 
428 Andronike 
 
 simplicity, yet here, either to impress the besieged, or 
 overwhelm Chosreph and Reshid, he rivalled the luxury 
 of Persian satraps. Also he wished to be considered 
 enlightened and acquainted with the refinement of France, 
 so he possessed a retinue of epauletted adventurers and 
 renegades, at the head of whom was Arnaout Pasha. 
 Barthakas, as he spoke English and French fluently, had 
 become the bosom companion of the commander-in-chief. 
 
 The personal appearance of Ibrahim was by no means 
 in keeping with the magnificence of his quarters or with 
 his great reputation. He was short in stature, fat, and 
 middle-aged. His face was round and pitted by the small- 
 pox. His name was already celebrated throughout the 
 East for his victories over the Wahabees and his cruelties 
 to the Arabs. It was he who took prisoner the famous 
 Abdullah, the overturner of Mecca and Medina, cities of 
 the Prophet, and sent him in chains to Sultan Mahmoud. 
 It was he who aided his father, Mehmet Ali of Cavalla, a 
 man of humble origin, like Ptolemy or Eyoub, father of 
 Saladin, to found a dynasty in the land of Pharaoh, and 
 to extend its boundaries to the springs of the Nile. 
 
 As we enter the tent of the commander-in-chief, it is im- 
 possible not to cast a glance at the mixed company within. 
 Reshid Pasha and Chosreph Pasha, with their officers 
 dressed in the costume of the janissaries, sat on one side, 
 and Ibrahim and Arnaout, attired like Europeans, on the 
 other. Smoking, they discussed in loud tones the best 
 manner to attack Misolonghi, and disputed in no friendly 
 manner. 
 
 "The people of Misolonghi, according to the informa- 
 tion which I have," said Reshid Pasha, "at this moment 
 are famishing. Also their military stores are exhausted. 
 So let us at once make a general assault, and in ten 
 minutes' time Misolonghi will be in our hands." 
 
 "I think so too," the capoudan pasha added. "Now 
 that I have driven off the Greek fleet, and have cleared 
 the Gulf of Lepanto from their fire-ships and men-of-war; 
 while they have no hope of obtaining other provisions, — 
 now is the time to attack. First bombard them for two 
 or three days, and then the assault. And what do you 
 say, most excellent Arnaout Pasha? I think you approve 
 our idea." 
 
 "Your plan, magnanimous and invincible pashas, is 
 
The Council of War 429 
 
 truly the best," replied Barthakas, slowly and calmly, with 
 perfect courtesy. "It is the best, and the brave armies 
 of the sultan undoubtedly will never meet a more favor- 
 able opportunity of showing their daring. But the Euro- 
 pean officers of the staff and the engineers here present," 
 bowing to the other adventurers, "say that the glorious 
 Bonaparte frequently repeated that ten victories gained by 
 courage and slaughter were not worth one victory won by 
 strategy without bloodshed. And since, as you and we 
 are informed, the people of Misolonghi have no provisions, 
 they will fight like famishing lions. They will meet our 
 attack by a general sally under the protection of their 
 guns. We shall have a hand to hand battle, and the 
 victory will be most stubbornly disputed. It is better, 
 therefore, to tighten our blockade and let hunger wear 
 upon them. Thus, without trouble and bloodshed, we may 
 enter this terrible Misolonghi. That is my opinion, or 
 rather it is that of these wise Europeans. But again, you 
 yourselves know best and must do as you wish." 
 
 "Arnaout Pasha speaks like Bonaparte himself," said 
 Ibrahim, bluntly and briefly. 
 
 Reshid Pasha and Chosreph Pasha, who hated the 
 Egyptian prince, and wanted to see his pride humbled by 
 an assault upon the ramparts of Misolonghi, exchanged 
 glances full of anger at Barthakas. 
 
 "And if the Greek fleet should arrive to-morrow, stronger 
 than ever, and should cut off the siege by sea, who is 
 responsible for the disaster? " Chosreph asked dryly and 
 gravely. 
 
 "Can the fleet of these slaves ever be stronger than the 
 Imperial, the Egyptian, the Algerian, and the Tunisian 
 fleets which shut the entrance to the Gulf of Lepanto," 
 said Ibrahim. 
 
 " Highness, as to this, let his Excellency, Arnaout Pasha, 
 answer, who made the familiar acquaintance of Canaris, 
 and heard from the mouth of the same Canaris that they 
 are waiting until three hundred fire-ships arrive from 
 Europe. As for myself, I know that besides Canaris we 
 have now a Miaoulis and a Pepinos and a Sactouris who 
 are not inferior to him. Highness, not to be tedious, 
 naval warfare to-day does not depend upon cannon nor 
 sails, but upon fire-ships. The giaour, in the twinkling 
 of an eye, fastens his cursed craft close to you, and sets 
 
430 Andronike 
 
 you on fire like a torch. What seaman then listens to 
 your orders? Some leap into the sea, and others climb to 
 the masts. I speak from experience, for I know at the 
 battle of Andros how they ran away, and how my splendid 
 flagship leaped into the air. But let us return to the sub- 
 ject. Will you, most excellent Arnaout Pasha, who now 
 propose to make the blockade more rigorous, come on 
 board my flagship and help me against the Greek fleet, if 
 it should perhaps come back stronger than ever? " 
 
 "If I was not needed by his Highness, why not? You 
 know that I am not afraid of the giaours. I think also I 
 showed it to Canaris himself. I repeat that if I were 
 not of service to these most ingenious French officers in 
 perfecting certain tactics and engineering schemes, which 
 one morning will put Misolonghi in our hands, I would 
 myself take command of a fire-ship and drive off the 
 Greek admiral." 
 
 The timid Chosreph, overborne by the weight of such 
 imposture, bowed low without other reply. 
 
 "Since our cannon and mortars, which Bibal Agha 
 landed at Cry oner i, cannot be brought here for the present, 
 on account of the overflow of the Evenos," said Ibrahim, 
 "I think that before we begin our bombardment we would 
 do well to send an embassy and demand the keys and the 
 surrender of the city. If they reject our proposals, in a 
 second council of war we will decide whether we must 
 attempt an assault or not." 
 
 The proposition of Ibrahim was unanimously accepted. 
 
 Arnaout Pasha and four others were appointed members 
 of the embassy. 
 
 On the following day, January 1, 1826, under a flag of 
 truce, the embassy entered Misolonghi. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 MISDIRECTED ZEAL 
 
 The heavens seemed at peace with the earth. They no 
 longer flooded it with showers, or lashed it with tempests. 
 As if in atonement for that infernal night they streamed 
 upon it the warm, delicious sun with tints rich as the 
 Northern Light. 
 
Misdirected Zeal 431 
 
 The church bells and discharges of firearms were sum- 
 moning the inhabitants of the capital of western Greece 
 to the market place. 
 
 Arnaout Pasha with the olive branch had arrived like 
 the innocent dove at the ark of Noah. 
 
 In the hall of the former palace of the governor the 
 ambassadors of Ibrahim were received. Andronike had 
 also gone there with Thrasyboulos and the rest. 
 
 u Arnaout Pasha ! It is Barthakas himself ! " and she 
 elbowed her way through the crowd to reach the front line 
 among the magistrates. By the help of Lampros, Kyra 
 
 R , and Couleas, a path was opened, and they joined 
 
 the circle where the hoplarchs were giving audience to the 
 envoys. 
 
 " His Royal Highness, the glorious conqueror Ibrahim," 
 said Barthakas, " requests you to appoint a committee of 
 men who understand Albanian, Turkish, Greek, and French, 
 so that in his tent they may agree on most honorable terms 
 for the surrender of the fortress. Be assured that this 
 illustrious pasha, a pupil of European civilization, who 
 understands how to keep his promise, does not resemble 
 the people whom you have thus far seen." 
 
 "We are ignorant people, oh, Barthakas, and are not 
 acquainted with so many languages. Pashas, we do not 
 recognize. We only know how to hold our sword and gun 
 in our hands." In distinct tones Andronike interrupted 
 him with these words, which were followed by a burst of 
 applause from the Greeks. 
 
 The Arcadian girl stood a little to the rear of her former 
 teacher. Thrasyboulos was leaning on her arm and that 
 
 of Couleas. Beside them were Kyra R , Carl, and 
 
 Lampros. 
 
 Thunderstruck, Arnaout Pasha mechanically turned on 
 hearing the voice which he instantly recognized as that of 
 the demogeront's daughter. On seeing at the same time 
 
 his rival near her, together with Kyra R , Carl, and 
 
 Lampros, that is to say the persons most familiar with his 
 past conduct, his eyes swam. The entire world whirled 
 violently round him. He felt that five phantoms resur- 
 rected from the dead were rushing forward to destroy 
 him. 
 
 u Since you do not accept the proposition, farewell. 
 What scorching heat ! Let us depart, effendis. They re- 
 
432 Andronike 
 
 ject the proposition," he murmured, wiping the perspiration 
 from his face. 
 
 " Bah ! The secretary of Patras ! The jackal who killed 
 the father of my mistress," Lam pros shouted. 
 
 "Why ! That is the caftan ji of the Vali of Roumelia ! " 
 
 " That is the fellow who tried to drown us in the lake of 
 Yanina," Carl cried, interrupting Kyra E, . 
 
 "I will shoot him, and they can hang me afterwards," 
 said Lampros, putting his hand on his pistol. 
 
 " Stop ! " Thrasyboulos interposed, seizing the hand of 
 the clamorous Lampros. " Stop ! " he said, and he advanced 
 toward Arnaout Pasha, who, hearing everything and becom- 
 ing still more confused, was trying to get away. " Do you 
 know me, Barthakas ? Do you know this young woman, 
 whose father and brother you assassinated ? Do you know 
 this harmless Hungarian, whom you tried to drown with 
 me in the lake of Yanina ? Greeks ! This renegade, 
 Greeks, is the famous secretary of Patras who betrayed 
 our plans to the Laliots and caused the siege of the fortress 
 to fail. This man, by one robbery after another, by one 
 treason after another, has become a pasha, and now an en- 
 voy. See why we suffer ! See why we shall never become 
 free! A few of these vile and worthless Christians frus- 
 trate all the sacrifices of the rest, and hurt us more than 
 the hosts of the barbarians themselves." 
 
 " Kyrios ! Look at me well ! Either you are mistaken 
 or a lunatic ! You take me for some one else. Never was 
 I a Christian ; never was I in Patras except a little while 
 ago when, with the victorious Ibrahim Pasha, we entered 
 that city in triumph. I see through you well ! I begin 
 to see through you ! " Turning to the others he said, 
 " Are you seeking pretexts to kill us ? Remember that 
 many Peloponnesian prisoners are at present in the hands 
 of his Highness. Effendis, let us depart. We have ful- 
 filled the length and breadth of our mission. The people 
 of Misolonghi are not ready to entertain terms of surren- 
 der. Yet I judge it my duty to warn you, Greeks, that his 
 Highness has sworn, if you do not accept his proposals, to 
 put you all to the sword. He will reduce all Misolonghi to 
 ashes, except the house of Lord Byron, which he has bidden 
 our brave soldiers spare for the sake of civilization, just as 
 Alexander the Great formerly spared at Thebes the house 
 of Pindar. Magnanimous envoys, let us return. I have 
 
Misdirected Zeal 433 
 
 determined to hold no further converse with the rebels." 
 He spoke with an effort, with arrogant assumption of dig- 
 nity, and raised his foot to depart. 
 
 Then there rose a loud uproar among the Greeks, some 
 saying that they ought to reject the proposals of Ibrahim 
 courteously, and not attack and insult his ambassadors who 
 were under a flag of truce. During the clamor, while no one 
 was paying attention to any one else, Lampros said, " You 
 simpletons ! That dog robbed and keeps his plunder ; but 
 you heed him, and you don't listen to these ladies and to 
 the nephew of the patriarch ! Stop, you dirty dog ! I 
 will give you a lesson ! You have killed so many people ! 
 Stop ! " He foamed at the mouth, and, pressing through 
 the crowd, left the reception-room. 
 
 " Is there no soldier or hoplarch here from Patras ? " 
 cried Andronike. " That is the man who killed my father 
 and brother ! Greeks, that is the famous Barthakas ! " 
 
 "Lady," cried Barthakas, angrily, "you are fit for the 
 same lunatic asylum as that lame fellow. I acknowledge 
 that many fathers and mothers have been slain, /but in war ! 
 You have killed, and we have killed. I am not to blame." 
 Pallid, trembling, but disguising the frightful emotions of 
 his soul by a dignified exterior, he went out, leaving the 
 men in that assembly bewildered. 
 
 Lampros was meditating a rash and foolish scheme. We 
 know how devoted he was to his mistress. He was well 
 acquainted with her history and sufferings, of which Bar- 
 thakas was the original cause. He knew how Barthakas had 
 tried to drown Carl and Thrasyboulos in the Lake of Yanina. 
 Most of all was he indignant that a Greek, a Christian, a 
 man of some learning, should so hate and injure those who 
 were contending to secure liberty for their compatriots. 
 He had sworn many times, if he ever met him, to cut him 
 in pieces. 'As far as the flag of truce was concerned, he 
 thought little about it. The history of those times was 
 full of examples wherein the beys, pashas, and vizirs sent 
 flags of truce, gave pledges, and swore awful oaths by the 
 Koran and by the name of Mohammed that they would not 
 injure the Christians if they surrendered, and then, as soon 
 as they did surrender, butchered them without pity. He 
 further argued that if Misolonghi was delivered, it could 
 be only through its sword and valor. If, on the contrary, it 
 fell into the talons of Ibrahim, death was certain for all. 
 
 28 
 
434 Andronike 
 
 He hurried therefore and took a position on the left of 
 the outer gate of the wall from which the ambassadors 
 were to depart. Their horses and servants were waiting 
 there. 
 
 Barthakas was beginning to breathe more freely. His 
 strength returned in proportion as he saw himself nearing 
 the gate. He began to reflect in what way he could by one 
 and a single blow strike all his enemies, who were crowded 
 together in Misolonghi. 
 
 Burning jealousy tormented him that at last Andronike 
 had found his rival. He was frantic at the thought that 
 she had married the lame man whom she had preferred to 
 himself. He did not doubt they were married, and that 
 Thrasyboulos had won the beautiful girl of Arcadia, his 
 only idol, the passion of his life, the cause of his conver- 
 sion from Christianity to Islam. 
 
 Speechless, dejected, he was hastening with rapid steps 
 to go out, when his eye descried Lampros advancing 
 toward him. The fierce look of the armatolos, and his 
 hand upon his weapons, did not escape his shrewd attention. 
 
 He stopped for a moment and nodded to the grooms and 
 the other attendants to approach. 
 
 Lampros rushed forward like lightning, and emptied his 
 pistol point blank at Barthakas, shouting " Thief! Vile 
 dog ! Teacher ! Did you want to be a pasha ! Take that 
 now ! " 
 
 The latter gave a yell, uttered the words, " I am done 
 for ! " and fell to the ground. 
 
 The other ambassadors, in terror, hurried from the walls 
 and fled, stopping only to mount their horses, and then flee 
 the faster. 
 
 Only two or three Arabs remained to succor the wounded 
 man. They had noticed that the Greeks themselves were 
 grumbling, and disapproved the conduct of Lampros, whom 
 they seized and put under guard. Fortunately or unfort- 
 unately, the ball had hit the Turkish envoy only in the arm, 
 breaking it just above the hand. However, as cowardly in 
 danger as he was cruel in crime, he had fallen to the ground, 
 moaning, lamenting, and entreating forgiveness from whom- 
 ever he had wronged. He thought his last moment had 
 come. 
 
 The officers of the guard proposed to carry him to one of 
 the chambers close by, and sent immediately for Dr P \ 
 
The Blood Covenant 435 
 
 but Barthakas and his attendants insisted on returning as 
 quickly as they could to the Turkish camp to the care of the 
 European surgeons, before the inhabitants of Misolonghi 
 should crowd to the spot. 
 
 Ibrahim in rage demanded from the besieged the man 
 guilty of this attempt, and threatened, if he was not given 
 up, to hang opposite their ramparts two hundred Pelopon- 
 nesian prisoners of the most illustrious families, whom he 
 had brought with him as hostages from the conquered towns 
 of the Morea. 
 
 In vain Thrasyboulos and Couleas tried to rescue Lampros 
 from his terrible situation. 
 
 The old armatolos himself insisted on going to Ibrahim, 
 as soon as he learned that the lives of two hundred com- 
 patriots were in danger. 
 
 He was surrendered therefore on the sworn agreement 
 that if Arnaout Pasha, who was wounded only in the arm, 
 survived, they should not kill him. On the contrary event, 
 he must submit to the punishment of death. 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE BLOOD COVENANT 
 
 The tent of Arnaout Pasha stood close beside that of the 
 African commander-in-chief. Barthakas was sitting on a 
 divan strewn with gold-embroidered silks and Persian 
 carpets. His arm hung upon his breast in a sling of varie- 
 gated silk. On his head was a conical cap of rare otter, and 
 over his shoulders was flung a white Algerian burnoose 
 with heavy tassels. Nor must we omit the gilded and 
 diamond-studded arms in his girdle, and the slippers of red 
 velvet on his feet. 
 
 Of late Barthakas had grown phlegmatic almost to apathy. 
 The dangers through which he had passed, and death which 
 so often came near him had changed him much. His malev- 
 olent soul seemed never hurried, never excited, never 
 agitated. He only reflected with more energy, formed 
 cleverer plans, and accomplished them with greater pre- 
 caution, without endangering his position and losing his 
 
436 Andronike 
 
 reputation with the Ottomans. He dreamed of playing 
 among them some day the part of a Cardinal Wolsey or 
 Richelieu. 
 
 This is the reason why Lampros, although he had been 
 thirteen days in the hands of Ibrahim, had not yet been 
 subjected to any punishment or examination, nor even to 
 harsh confinement. 
 
 On the fourteenth of the month he was at last brought in 
 chains before Arnaout Pasha. On his appearance Barthakas 
 ordered all his servants to go out. 
 
 Lampros was expecting death every moment. He longed 
 for his mistress; he longed for Thrasyboulos ; and, if 
 anything grieved him, it was that after having passed 
 his life as an armatolos he was now to die the death of 
 a malefactor. 
 
 "Don't be afraid, Lampros. Approach me, my boy. Sit 
 on that carpet. From my heart I forgive you for what you 
 did to me, for I also am a Christian like you," the wounded 
 pasha added with dignity and in. a low tone. 
 
 At the sight of those magnificent robes, of that luxurious 
 tent, of those numerous guards, at those grave and imposing 
 tones, Lampros forgot Barthakas, forgot his past, and felt 
 that he was really brought before some mighty officer. He 
 became timid, and did not know how to act. 
 
 " Sit down ! Let me free your hands, my boy." 
 
 Lampros muttered something in confusion, and sat down 
 mechanically. 
 
 " Did I ever do you any harm ? Why did you wish to 
 kill me, poor fellow ? " 
 
 "Kyrios Secretary — I mean, Kyrios Pasha, you killed 
 the father and brother of my mistress." 
 
 Barthakas smiled, and with his accustomed calm indiffer- 
 ence further inquired, " Were you there ? Did you with 
 your own eyes see me do any such thing ? " 
 
 "No, effendi. I heard so from my mistress and her 
 betrothed, and whatever my mistress says — " 
 
 " Her husband, you mean ! Are they not married yet ? " 
 
 "No, indeed! Kyrios Thrasyboulos was sick abed so 
 many months! They cut off his leg. The day you came 
 to Misolonghi was only the third time he had been out of 
 doors." Then Lampros gave further details of the sickness 
 of Thrasyboulos and of their lack of food. 
 
 The Governor of Lesbos then clapped his hands, and in a 
 
The Blood Covenant 437 
 
 deep voice called in Turkish, " Ghel ! Ghel ! " Come ! 
 Come! 
 
 Immediately there entered two tall, black eunuchs with 
 round scarred cheeks, hanging lips, and heavy gold earrings. 
 They belonged to the band of crimson-dressed Abyssinians 
 and Nubians who attended Ibrahim. 
 
 "Bring coffee and. a tchibouk for Kyrios Lampros," he 
 said. 
 
 Soon they brought Lampros coffee in a cup inlaid with 
 pearls, and a tchibouk of cherry-wood, three cubits long, with 
 an amber mouthpiece studded with diamonds. The simple 
 Greek took the tchibouk, smoked it, and sipped the coffee, 
 but without sense of taste. He was utterly confused. 
 
 " You called me ' thief ? at the meeting. I suppose that 
 you meant that I stole the diamonds of Lady Vouvoulina. 
 That charge, just like the other slanders, has no foundation. 
 Those diamonds belonged to the women of Chourshid 
 Pasha. When I left you I went straight to Chourshid. 
 
 Kyra R is my witness, for she found me there. I 
 
 handed him his diamonds. I persuaded him to pay our 
 Greeks that immense sum of one hundred thousand Spanish 
 dollars to ransom his harem, and as my reward he made me 
 caftanji and later Arnaout Pasha. Am I not the man 
 
 who delivered Kyra E and Chryse, and the Angelike 
 
 of Markos Botsaris, and Konstantinos Botsaris, and many 
 others whom Omer Brione wanted to dishonor and impale ? 
 Is it my fault if the Laliots went to the tower and slew the 
 demogeront ? Did I lead them, or did they drag me there 
 with violence and with the sword ? " Then, lowering his 
 voice, he continued, "I wanted, my good Lampros, this 
 continual war to stop once for all. I wanted you to enjoy 
 your liberty, and to have it at once, for you deserve it ; and 
 then for us to come together, I, Andronike, Thrasyboulos, 
 
 Kyra R , and have a friendly explanation. You would 
 
 have seen, my friend Lampros, how innocent I am ! What 
 fearful wrong they do me, charging so many and so foul 
 things against my character ! But, to be just," he added, in 
 a still lower tone, "it is your turn now to ask me why I 
 changed my religion, why I became a pasha ? Lampros ! 
 Lampros ! The Greeks are pallikaris ; but they are un- 
 learned, and they can't see two fathoms ahead. Listen to 
 me I Believe me ! I alone shall free Greece ! Only this," 
 and he showed his signet ring, " can save Misolonghi and 
 
438 Andronike 
 
 drown in its marshes all this Arab gang which has come to 
 destroy you. When, with God's help, I accomplish my great 
 undertaking, then all the Greeks will blush at the wrong 
 they have done me." 
 
 The good-hearted Lampros began to doubt. He had 
 formerly never known Barthakas well. He was bewildered 
 by his manner of speaking and his arguments. Add, also, 
 his critical position, his ignorance, and his simplicity, and 
 one will pardon him. 
 
 As soon as he heard Barthakas speak of Grecian liberty, 
 and of overthrowing the Arab host, he believed him; he 
 grew enthusiastic, and began, with contrition of soul, to 
 describe the decision of the people in Misolonghi, to die, but 
 never to surrender. 
 
 "My boy Lampros, you must expel from your mind 
 another charge. It is that I tried to drown Thrasyboulos 
 and Carl at Yanina. This is what happened. I had a 
 cursed Albanian, a certain Kara Seid Ali, a wild beast, a 
 perfect fool. There are people who can betray one thirty 
 times, and serve under thirty different flags, without caring 
 for either. It appears that the evening when Thrasyboulos 
 was at my palace, this Albanian heard men say that my 
 guest was a rich Russian count. As he was a Mussulman 
 fanatic, and hated the Russians, he made up his mind to 
 rob him. So he and his companions resolved to drown 
 master and man in the lake, and then go to their house and 
 steal their property. Fortunately, however, for Thra- 
 syboulos, Kara Seid Ali was the very man whose life he 
 had saved at Dragatzana, and with whom he had a blood 
 covenant. You know that among the Albanian tribes, the 
 Ghegs, although the dullest headed, are always faithful to 
 their blood-covenant oaths. What does Kara Seid Ali do ? 
 To free himself from the charge of violating his oath, he 
 swears that I incited him to the crime. Then Thrasyboulos 
 gives him a good deal of money and his ring ; and the cursed 
 Albanian secretly flees from Yanina, afraid that I shall 
 discover his conduct and punish him. I ask you, my good 
 Lampros, how I am to blame ? If Kara Seid Ali says that 
 I stirred him up, should Kyrios Thrasyboulos, with so much 
 learning and education, believe such a Turkish hireling 
 rather than me? Do you know, my boy Lampros, the 
 famous Cleopatra, the Queen of Egypt, used to say, ' How 
 terrible if Csesar sits on a ladle ! ' To explain, for it is an 
 
The Blood Covenant 439 
 
 old Greek saying, and you don't understand it very well," 
 he interrupted himself with a grave smile; "it is a bad 
 thing for Caesar to sit on a club. In other words, when 
 any one reaches a high position like mine, other people fear 
 him, and are sure to accuse him behind his back, and to in- 
 trigue and do all they can to destroy him." 
 
 Lampros was now listening with mouth wide open. Just 
 as the serpent magnetizes the bird, and allures it down from 
 the top of the tree into his mouth, so Barthakas was draw- 
 ing him over to his side. The unhappy Lampros was too 
 good to penetrate the abysses of such a heart. 
 
 " I swear by my bread, Kyrios Secretary ! I have lost 
 my wits again! Kyrios Pasha, I mean; I see you are 
 nothing like what I heard. Forgive me, effendi, for — " 
 
 " Call me Kyrios Secretary. That is my real occupation. 
 My name of pasha will only last a little time longer. Erom 
 necessity, my friend Lampros, for some while yet I shall 
 say, ' May God guard the days of our sultan ! ' The day 
 will come when I shall shout with my whole heart, and not 
 with my feeble lips only, on that glad day of the Byzantine 
 Empire, * Many years, Emperor ! ' I, my friend Lam- 
 pros — Come close to me. Sit on my sofa," he said, in a 
 very low tone, making him a sign to appproach. 
 
 The armatolos rose, all in a cold perspiration at the idea 
 of sitting in his grimy, blood-stained fustanella on such a 
 splendid divan, and approached, first laying down his 
 tchibouk. 
 
 "Sit down! Sit down, Lampros. Take your tchibouk, 
 too, my boy," said Barthakas, with a false smile, whose 
 piercing glance no movement of Lampros escaped. 
 
 " My friend Lampros," he said, in almost inaudible tones, 
 leaning toward him as soon as he was seated, "I must 
 play with Ibrahim and Reshid the part of Zopyrus. Listen. 
 I always delight in the history of the ancients. Zopyrus 
 loved his king Darius just as much as I love our nation 
 and Greece. Darius was unable to conquer Babylon, what- 
 ever he did. So Zopyrus cut off his nose and his ears, 
 shaved his head like a slave's, flayed his shoulders and 
 back with cruel lashes, and then went to the Babylonians, 
 pretending that Darius had reduced him to this condition, 
 and begged the Babylonians to give him an army so he 
 might fight Darius. 
 
 " He had arranged with King Darius that, first, Darius 
 
440 Andronike 
 
 should despatch against him a thousand of his worst soldiers' 
 whom he defeated ; then two thousand, and afterwards four 
 thousand, whom he also defeated. At last the Babylonians 
 admired him so much that they made him commander-in- 
 chief, and our good Zopyrus, as soon as he was commander- 
 in-chief, gave the Babylonians a lesson. He betrayed 
 Babylon to the Persians ! " 
 
 "And are you planning something like that Zopyrus," 
 cried Lampros, twirling his moustaches in admiration. 
 
 " I am in the same predicament, Father Lampros, as was 
 Zopyrus. I was circumcised to become a Turk. Do you 
 take your hand away i What more do you want ? I have 
 almost the entire confidence of Eeshid, Chosreph, and Ibra- 
 him. Now I have need of you, Lampros." 
 "Of me, effendi!" 
 
 "Of you, my boy Lampros. Do you doubt me? Out 
 with the truth. Do you doubt me?" 
 
 "No, effendi. No! I believe you. I should be a fool 
 not to see the truth ! " 
 
 " Bravo, Lampros ! Give me your hand then ! A blood 
 covenant once for all, Lampros." 
 
 With a little hesitation, Lampros moved his arm and 
 gripped in his fingers of steel the slender hand of Bartha- 
 kas so forcibly that the eyes of the latter filled with tears. 
 
 " I said I needed you. See how you can serve me. You 
 can make me friends with Thrasyboulos and Andronike." 
 
 " Command me ! Command me, effendi ! " cried the arma- 
 tolos at once, entirely overcome at such kindness and good- 
 ness. 
 
 " At first you will find success somewhat difficult, for I 
 know what a wrong idea they have of me. And yet, what- 
 ever you do, you must do it as quickly as possible, if you 
 want to save Misolonghi. I have told you my situation. I 
 further add that to accomplish my purpose I must have 
 two worthy people there, and I can find none superior to 
 Thrasyboulos and Andronike. If you make us friends 
 then, Lampros, I promise you in one month Greece shall 
 be freed, and you shall see the standard of the cross above 
 the minaret on Sancta Sophia." 
 
 " I am ready to cut off my hands and feet to serve you. 
 Tell me what to do to get our liberty. If you do anything 
 like this, Kyrios Barthakas, we will make you our king, 
 and worship you besides." 
 
The Blood Covenant 441 
 
 Barthakas rose and began slowly to pace the chamber, 
 like a real prince, his hands folded on his breast. Then, 
 drawing an amber chaplet from his pocket, he came back 
 and sat down. " Listen to what you must do. You must 
 return to Misolonghi. You said that Thrasyboulos and 
 Andronike are starving." 
 
 " Yes, effendi," replied Lampros, who, on hearing of his 
 release, started with joy and began almost to tremble. 
 
 " You must go back to Misolonghi on a boat ; for, as you 
 told me, the house of Thrasyboulos is on the seashore. I 
 will give you a box of provisions ; but you must not tell them 
 that I sent it. Tell them that an Albanian friend set you 
 free and gave you these provisions. Every Tuesday a boat 
 will come, bringing you a box just like this. Don't ever 
 tell them that I send it. You must begin to praise me, 
 little by little, and tell them that I treated you well, that I 
 always spoke well of them ; and you may add that I swore 
 and proved my innocence of the crimes which they charge 
 upon me. When you see that they are somewhat influenced, 
 and that their opinion of me is beginning to change, then 
 tell them the whole truth. Tell them that it is I who send 
 them the provisions, and that I am working out a great 
 plan, by which the entire army of Eeshid and Ibrahim, and 
 all their fleet, will fall once for all into their hands. Tell 
 them that I strongly desire to talk with them. If they are 
 willing, I will enter the city some night secretly, and we 
 will have a full explanation. Take this chaplet, Lampros," 
 he added, very gravely; "and if Thrasyboulos approves, 
 give it to the boatman who brings you the food, and the fol- 
 lowing night at nine o'clock I will come to Misolonghi. 
 What I specially urge upon you, is not to tell them that I 
 send the provisions, or anything about my plans, until you 
 are sure of their approval. Otherwise you know you will 
 destroy me. If the Turks here learn the least thing about 
 it, they will probably bowstring me. You are my adopted 
 brother now, for a little while ago you made a blood cove- 
 nant with me." 
 
 " Don't be troubled, effendi. I myself am crafty, and I 
 know my part. I will not flatter you, Kyrios Barthakas ; 
 but my soul loves you to-night as it does Kyria Andronike." 
 As Lampros took the chaplet in his hands, he was not more 
 persuaded of his own existence than of the innocence of 
 Barthakas. 
 
442 Andronike 
 
 In fact the plan of the teacher was terrible and easy of 
 execution. He had determined to sweep off the face of the 
 earth, in one and the same hour, all his enemies at a blow, 
 and to satiate the black hate of his evil heart. 
 
 The sealed box which he gave Lampros contained poisoned 
 food and wines. Also he gave him several valuable presents, 
 as well as a fine suit of armor. He also directed two guards 
 to accompany him as far as the sea gate of the fortress. 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 FROM A FRIEND 
 
 Pitiful, almost indescribable is the change which has 
 taken place in the house of Thrasyboulos. Andronike has 
 expended her last penny to purchase food and a bed for her 
 lover. His wound has opened again in consequence of 
 privation and unskilful treatment, and has begun to threaten 
 a dangerous relapse. The famine has become so severe 
 that, like many other victims, they could not have survived 
 if Couleas and Carl had not again employed stratagem and 
 brought them the unfortunate Mourgo under the guise of a 
 kid roasted on the spit. Their afflictions were aggravated 
 by the misfortunes of Lampros, whom some accused them 
 of having instigated to his murderous attempt upon the 
 Ottoman envoy, openly asserting that the other inhabi- 
 tants would suffer on their account if Ibrahim captured the 
 city. 
 
 There is no need of alluding to the grief which Andronike 
 felt as she thought of Lampros in the power of her knavish 
 tutor, and remembered that he was excited to his mad 
 action by sincere devotion to her and Thrasyboulos. 
 
 On his convalescence the nephew of the patriarch had 
 absolutely refused to marry Andronike until the siege 
 ended. Couleas and Lampros had advised and urged them 
 to marry at once. This too was the desire of Andronike. 
 She was afraid that some new tempest would separate them, 
 or that any seeming indifference might wound the self- 
 esteem of her lover and make him suspect her of being 
 weaned from him by his lameness. Their long continued 
 
From a Friend 443 
 
 engagement would surely have reached a happy conclusion 
 if that mysterious destiny, which in human affairs so often 
 disappoints our expectations, had not impaired both the 
 health and the morale of Thrasyboulos. 
 
 The fourteenth of the month came near being the death 
 day of all. During seventy-two hours none of them had 
 tasted food. Their strength was so exhausted that, when 
 toward midnight irregular discharges and alarm bells gave 
 warning that the Turks were about to make their general 
 assault, none of them was able to rise and go out. The 
 Greek fleet of Miaoulis had arrived. It had been looked 
 for from day to day by the besieged, as the Jews looked for 
 their Messiah. Only by a victory could it rescue them 
 from famine. It alone could raise the siege by sea. 
 
 On the ninth of the month Miaoulis was held back by 
 contrary winds between Ithaca and Glarentza. On the 
 tenth, despite the tempest which tossed his ships like corks, 
 he advanced as far as the mouth of the bay of Misolonghi, 
 for the purpose of unloading his provisions and military 
 stores. First he fought with five frigates, which he turned 
 to flight. Soon nine other frigates and two brigs, under 
 the command of the aide-de-camp of Ney, the renegade 
 Seve, came and joined them. The winds became more 
 violent, and the waves more mountainous. The tempest 
 increased to a hurricane. In the midst of the fearful fight, 
 the forces of nature separated the Hydriot admiral from 
 the enemy, and drove him in anguish toward the Scrophae 
 Islands, while the Turks fled to the opposite cape of 
 Papas. 
 
 On the eleventh and twelfth even the hurricane increased 
 in violence, and the pangs of famine among the besieged 
 grew more distressing. The next two days brought only 
 agony and despair to those heroes of Misolonghi. They 
 fired guns, rang the church bells, lighted lanterns, and raised 
 everything they could as signals to the admiral not to aban- 
 don them. Whoever was strong enough went to the ram- 
 parts, the churches, the streets, in a loud voice encouraging 
 the combatants and imploring the aid of the Most High. 
 
 On the fourteenth of January, at the moment when more 
 than half the inhabitants of the sublime town were hang- 
 ing between life and death, a twelve-oared English barge 
 appeared from a distance. As the shipwrecked hail a life- 
 boat, so this bark was hailed by the Greeks. All the multi- 
 
444 Andronike 
 
 tude rushed together to the shore, shouting that food had 
 come, or that Miaoulis was sending good news. 
 
 This barge belonged to the English corvette "Rose," 
 commanded by Captain Abbot, and it brought a letter from 
 that officer to the besieged. Reshid, Chosreph, and Ibrahim, 
 the three most powerful antagonists of liberty, had charged 
 this English captain with demanding immediate and uncon- 
 ditional surrender. 
 
 Worthy of attention is the answer made by those despair- 
 ing men whom western Europe called half barbarous, in 
 distinction from the Turks, whom it called barbarians. 
 " In return for the blood we have shed, and the horrors we 
 have endured, we think liberty is the only adequate re- 
 ward. We do not fear the assaults of Ibrahim. With the 
 aid of the Most High, we hope to repulse them as we have 
 done those of Reshid. Besides, now we have a govern- 
 ment of our own, whose orders we obey. Whoever wishes 
 to negotiate, must address himself to it." 
 
 While Abbot was waiting for a reply, his boatswain, 
 with two sailors carrying a heavy box on their backs, 
 directed his way to the house of Thrasyboulos. It was 
 already afternoon. At the sight of the inmates prostrated 
 by hunger the boatswain shuddered. "Which is Kyrios 
 Thrasyboulos," he inquired. 
 
 The unhappy youth raised his corpselike face, and nodded 
 that it was he. 
 
 "I bring you this box and this letter," said the boat- 
 swain, coughing hard to conceal his surprise and dismay at 
 the spectacle. 
 
 Thrasyboulos took the letter mechanically, not knowing 
 from whom it was, or what the box contained. 
 
 " Please give me a receipt as quick as you can, for I can't 
 stay more than three minutes here." 
 
 " A receipt, and where shall I get paper or pen or ink ! " 
 
 The quick-witted boatswain went to one of the windows, 
 and, tearing off a piece of paper which replaced a broken 
 pane, said, "Here is paper! If you want ink, here is 
 some," taking a bit of charcoal from the dead hearth. 
 
 The trembling hand of the sick man could not write the 
 receipt. So the boatswain wrote it, and Thrasyboulos traced 
 only the initial letters of his name. The Englishman 
 afterwards phlegmatically wished him better luck, and de- 
 parted in haste. 
 
From a Friend 445 
 
 " Where is that letter from ? " Couleas whispered. 
 
 The feeble hands of Thrasyboulos could not open it. 
 
 Only Andronike and Kyra R showed signs of life, 
 
 but they could hardly lift their heads. 
 
 "Let me have it. Perhaps I can open it," said Carl, who 
 also with his clenched teeth seemed barely clinging to life. 
 
 The letter then dropped from the hands of Thrasyboulos. 
 Carl crept to it, picked it up and opened it, then handed 
 it to his master, together with the key of the box, which 
 was inside the letter. 
 
 " That box contains food, Andronike mine ! My darling 
 Andro — " He was unable to finish. The words died on 
 his white, pinched lips. 
 
 "Food!" 
 
 "Food!" 
 
 Couleas and Carl uttered the same cry. 
 
 " Take the key — the box — open — give Androni-ke." 
 Thrasyboulos spoke with beating heart and tears of joy. 
 
 At the mere word " food," Carl and Couleas found life 
 come back. Each was like one drowning in the middle of a 
 shoreless sea, who at the moment of sinking in the abyss sud- 
 denly with his hand grasps a floating plank. With new life 
 in his breast, he again rises to contend with his fortune. 
 
 Both got up to the box, opened it, and, as the fragrance 
 of meat and closed parcels reached their nostrils, uttered 
 cries of joy. Then Couleas hurried to give a little wine to 
 Andronike, and Carl some raki to Kyra R . In the uni- 
 versal growing delight those souls, which already seemed on 
 the farther side of Acheron, had come back to themselves. 
 
 By eight o'clock, under the bright light of a candle, such 
 as they had not seen for two weeks, they sat down to taste 
 a real, a perfect meal ! The viands were placed near the 
 bed of Thrasyboulos, because he was still unable to rise. 
 
 " Before we really feast, my brothers, you must listen to 
 Lampikis' letter. Nobody like that man ! He sends it 
 from Ithaca. Andronike, read that letter out loud. It is 
 not long. It is short, but it is Greek!" 
 
 She took the letter in her hand and read as follows : 
 
 Ithaca, January 12, 1826. 
 
 My dear Thrasyboulos: In addition to being the bulwark 
 of the nation, Misolonghi has attracted the attention of the whole 
 world. It is the Saint Jean d'Acre of Greece on the formidable 
 
446 Andronike 
 
 rocks of which so many successive armies of the sultan have been 
 dashed to pieces. Your resistance is worthy of the Titans. The 
 rejection by you, already needy and starving, of the easy terms of 
 Ibrahim is even sublimer than the noblest days of Sparta. Glory 
 to Greece which bears such children! Glory to you who have 
 opened up the new era and have brought back afresh the period 
 of Miltiades and Themistocles. Thrasyboulos, the shadow of the 
 proto-martyr of our revolution, of your uncle Gregory whom the 
 tyrant hanged, and whom the worthless Jew dragged so mercilessly 
 in the streets, demands of every Greek to shed the last drop of his 
 blood, but never surrender. Shame, threefold shame, to the civilized 
 world which sees such heroism and yet hesitates ! 
 
 With my whole heart I wanted to send a load of provisions to 
 this sacred city. I would have sold my last shirt to help you ; but 
 Europe allows us to do nothing, and I cannot understand why the 
 highest Power seems so hostile to us. Perhaps the Almighty has 
 determined by further incomprehensible and more striking ex- 
 amples to ratify the liberty of the Greek nation. 
 
 However, by heavy bribes, I have persuaded the man who brings 
 this letter to take this box with him. It contains food, a little 
 ammunition, a little wine and spirits. If I can find some means 
 of sending you some more, I shall do it. 
 
 Write if at last your beautiful Andronike has arrived. Tell me 
 how your wound is, and what is the news from Misolonghi, and 
 command me whatever you need. Remember that in the world 
 you have a friend who loves you and is grateful to you, and who 
 prays ardently for your deliverance and for the deliverance of all 
 our heroes in Misolonghi. Farewell. 
 
 Your loving friend, 
 
 Lampikis. 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 HOLY MISOLONGHI 
 
 "Blessed Lampikis! It is you who rescued me from 
 the hands of the frightful Barthakas," said Andronike. 
 
 " How many that man rescued from death in Constanti- 
 nople! All the family of the Princes Mouronzis, for 
 example ! I remember about daybreak my uncle and I met 
 him, a poor boatman, on the hills of Constantinople, while 
 we were coming from the bostanji prison. Two ferocious 
 janissaries were pursuing him. Who could have imagined 
 that in only five years' time that man would have become 
 
Holy Misolonghi 447 
 
 the rich Lampikis, and would save us from the horrible 
 famine which has destroyed so many brave warriors! My 
 uncle gave him a diamond snuff-box, and his blessing with 
 it." 
 
 " I do not know the man, except from the praises you 
 lavish on him, but I feel he is like no one else. May 
 divine Providence grant me some day to embrace him and 
 kiss him, and thank him for saving my life," Couleas 
 added with warmth. 
 
 " Kyrios Lampikis ! Yes ! Kyrios Lampikis ! What 
 shall I say about you, the blessed saint? May you have 
 children, and may God make them all grow up, and may 
 they never give you any trouble, and may blessings rest 
 always on your house, and may you live to be very old, 
 for always you will be useful to mankind," said also 
 Kyra E . 
 
 Then devoutly they pronounced a blessing over their 
 meal, and began to eat. 
 
 After Kyra R had drunk two or three glasses of 
 
 wine, and begun to feel like herself, she went on talking 
 dejectedly, " For three days I do not intend to look at my 
 face in the glass. I will confess my sins. Lord, have 
 mercy! Whoever gets out from this Misolonghi alive 
 will have a good many things to tell. Such dimness came 
 on my eyes I could n't see, and sometimes I could n't open 
 them. My lips grew black and dry, and my teeth stuck 
 together. And it seemed as if some one had hold of my 
 bowels and pulled and did n't leave off, and the more he 
 pulled the more my heart went. When Carl poured the 
 raki into my mouth, I thought it was the water of life, of 
 paradise, and that there was another raising of Lazarus." 
 
 " Oh, my poor Lampros ! Not a minute passes without 
 my thinking of him," said Andronike, with a deed sigh. 
 
 " And who does n't think of him, lady ! It is best not 
 to have him too much in our mind, nor to imagine what 
 punishment the poor man must have gone through." 
 
 "His action was certainly not very commendable," said 
 Thrasyboulos ; " but — " 
 
 " Stop ! What is going on? " cried Couleas, and he 
 rushed out. 
 
 Then they heard a heavy noise like distant thunder, 
 and then cannonading, as if a battle were going on in the 
 distance. 
 
448 Andronike 
 
 " The sky is all red in the harbor of Misolonghi. The 
 men are in the streets. They are tiring pistols and ring- 
 ing bells. Either Miaoulis is fighting, or Ibrahim has 
 made an attack on Misolonghi," said Konleas, returning. 
 
 "Let us go out, Carl. I haven't walked for so many 
 days ! " 
 
 "You stay here, Carl. I am going with you, Kyra 
 
 E . Let us see what is going on. If there is any 
 
 danger, we will come back and tell you at once." 
 
 They came back the next day. All night everybody 
 was at the seashore. The Hydriot fire-chief had set a 
 swift Ottoman corvette on fire, which had grounded on the 
 shoals of Procopanistos, and had slain her three hundred 
 sailors. Three Ottoman fire-ships, trying to imitate the 
 Greeks, accomplished nothing, but only lit up the sky and 
 kept the inhabitants of Misolonghi all night in suspense. 
 
 Miaoulis, with twenty-five vessels, fought three hours 
 with the Ottoman fleet of sixty-six sail, beat it, scattered 
 it, and finally succeeded in landing at Misolonghi stores, 
 guns, biscuit, seven thousand kilos of wheat, and enough 
 other provisions to feed the inhabitants two months 
 longer. 
 
 The fifteenth of January was therefore a festival for the 
 besieged. Everybody ran to get his share of provisions, 
 and to hear about the night battle from Sactouris, the 
 vice-admiral. 
 
 Misolonghi arose stronger than ever. In its veins 
 coursed new life and new blood. It was ready to breast 
 the bombs of the Franco-Arabs, just as it had done the 
 yataghans and cannon of myriads of Albanians, Thessalians, 
 Thracians, and Asiatics. 
 
 Hereafter we, following the example of numerous 
 European writers, can call this cit} 7 , which contained the 
 sacred heart of Lord Byron and the graves of Norman, 
 Kyriacoulis, and Markos Botsaris, a holy place, the holy 
 Misolonghi. 
 
 Erom the beginning of April, the Egyptians threw up two 
 batteries on the shore, one opposite the bastion of Botsaris, 
 and one commanding the islands of Scylla and Cleisova. 
 
 The inhabitants of Misolonghi subsisted on the pro- 
 visions which Miaoulis brought, and repaired and strength- 
 ened their works as far as possible. 
 
 One day Thrasyboulos invited Dr P to breakfast. 
 
Holy Misolonghi 449 
 
 " I don't see anything of your dog and cat, Thrasyboulos," 
 the doctor remarked after breakfast. 
 
 "I lost them some days ago. Really, doctor, satisfy 
 my curiosity. After all, did you want my Psipsica and 
 Mourgo? " 
 
 " To be honest, I will tell you the truth. I foresaw the 
 famine. I knew the condition of the city, and I much 
 preferred that kind of payment to money. The truth is, 
 if I had not followed this system, a numerous family like 
 mine could not have survived." 
 
 "Doctor, are you not joking? " exclaimed Andronike. 
 
 "And yet, lady," Couleas interposed, "as sure as we 
 see each other, so sure am I that Mourgo and Psipsica 
 furnished an appetizing dinner to some unfortunates." 
 
 " Without doubt ! I know men who have eked out life 
 on much more unnatural food," said the doctor's wife. 
 
 "Brrrrrr," cried Kyra R suddenly. 
 
 "A Franco- Arab bomb ! " Dr P exclaimed. 
 
 They had not ceased jesting at this first bomb, which 
 had fallen a little distance from them, when they heard a 
 second, third, fourth, fifth, and then a continued succes- 
 sion. The houses of Misolonghi shook, the window panes 
 were shattered, and the solid ground trembled. Ibrahim 
 was then beginning that bombardment which continued 
 without interruption three days and nights, and ploughed 
 the city with eight thousand balls. 
 
 They took refuge in the damp cellar. Days before 
 every house had prepared one such hole in the ground as 
 the only means of protection against the bombs. They 
 stayed there three days. On the fourth, as this hailstorm 
 ceased , shouts and bells announced that the polyglot host 
 of Arabs, Bedouins, Albanians, Turcomans, and Youruks 
 was already marching to the assault. 
 
 " Outside, boys ! Outside ! The decisive hour has 
 come ! " cried Thrasyboulos. 
 
 "I advise you, friend, not to come," interrupted 
 Couleas. " Stay here. You are still sick. Stay with the 
 women. Carl and I are going." 
 
 " Who can stay here ? " he replied sadly. " Outside ! 
 Outside ! The bombs have ceased." 
 
 Both men and women hurried to the bastion of Botsaris, 
 where a great crowd had gathered. 
 
 .The Egyptians headed the attack, and clambered up the 
 
 29 
 
450 Andronike 
 
 mound a little in front of the bastion of Botsaris ; but the 
 Suliots rushed out, sword in hand, cut them down, and 
 put them to flight. Ibrahim and E-eshid again collected 
 their troops, and attempted a second attack. The Greeks 
 blew up a mine, and inflicted heavy losses on their assail- 
 ants. More than five hundred victims were slain. The 
 army of Ibrahim fled in confusion, throwing away their 
 weapons; and the conquerors triumphantly brought into 
 Misolonghi the captured drums and arms. 
 
 So that champion of modern Egypt found himself in the 
 same category as Omer Brione, the Scodra Pasha, and 
 Eeshid. Misolonghi was the Greek Gibraltar. Neither 
 the tactics of foreign adventurers, nor his own patient 
 study of the manner of attack, had been of any avail. He 
 resolved to make no more assaults by land, but to master 
 successively the scattered islands in front of Misolonghi. 
 Thus he might vanquish them all by famine. 
 
 A few days later, while the inhabitants were still 
 rejoicing at their recent successes, the report suddenly 
 spread that the Turkish fleet was in flames. All hurried 
 to the batteries on the shore. Then they saw a dense, 
 cloudlike mass of smoke extending from one end to the 
 other of the entrance to the harbor. 
 
 "That is smoke and not fire," said one. 
 
 "Comrade, wherever there is smoke, one may reckon on 
 there being fire too," said another. 
 
 "Some vessel is on fire; but I don't see any ships." 
 
 "I don't see any either, but that cloud moves along 
 faster over the sea than the dust in the air." 
 
 "Don't you see ships? I see them! They are crowded 
 like chickens behind the smoke ! " 
 
 "I see, I see many ships behind the smoke," said a 
 heavy moustached Suliot, who was looking through an 
 English spy-glass. " The biggest ship is on fire ; it smokes, 
 moves fast, and drags the other ships after it ! " 
 
 "Please, captain, let me have a look with your glass. 
 Where did you get such a prize? " 
 
 "Day before yesterday, while walking over there, I 
 came across a Prankish monsieur who was looking down 
 here from the top of the hill with this glass. Just as I 
 popped out, he saw me and cried, * Pardon, captain ! 
 Pardon, captain ! ' Said I, ' There is n't any such person 
 here/ and cut him down like a cucumber." 
 
The Precious Box 451 
 
 " Why ! why ! I say ! I see them myself, and the cloud 
 pulls the rest after it," said the one holding the glass. 
 
 " Stop ! Let me see too, comrade. You are keeping 
 the glass to yourself." 
 
 A great tumult arose among the pallikaris, for now 
 with their own eyes they could make out the hull of the 
 vessel which emitted smoke and drew the others. 
 
 One man believed that Nicolas, the patron saint of the 
 sea, was coming himself to burn up the Turkish fleet. 
 Another thought that Miaoulis, with some new trick, was 
 visiting them again. While all were anxious and in 
 doubt, Dr Meyer, the editor of the "Greek Chronicle," 
 and several German philhellenes approached and calmed 
 the good Roumeliots, explaining that this wonder was 
 only the first steamship to appear in those waters. 
 
 The Egyptian viceroy had been quick to avail himself 
 of this invention, which naturally made the deepest 
 impression on the Greeks. 
 
 The steamer was towing several flat-bottomed, floating 
 batteries from Patras to Misolonghi. In a short time the 
 powerful fleet of the crescent was supplemented by an 
 inferior fleet of a hundred shallow vessels, called lantzonis 
 and saloups, which could carry troops all over the lagoon. 
 
 We hasten over the heroic but unequal struggle which 
 now ensued, in the midst of the marshy, watery plain, 
 between the Greeks and the Mussulmans. The islands 
 Vasiladi, Dolma, Poros, and Anatolicon in the Gulf of 
 Misolonghi, in a word, every door through which pro- 
 visions could be introduced by sea, were one by one 
 wrested from the Greeks. 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE PRECIOUS BOX 
 
 The morning after his conversation with Arnaout Pasha, 
 Lampros had left the Turkish camp, taking with him the 
 box for Thrasyboulos and Andronike. He was almost 
 crazed with joy, believing that Arnaout Pasha was work- 
 ing with profound intelligence for the overthrow of that 
 
452 Andronike 
 
 mighty army of Mussulman tribes, and for the deliverance 
 of the nation. He held in his hands the precious chaplet. 
 He had heard the renegade express readiness to enter the 
 besieged city in disguise. It was utterly impossible for 
 the simple armatolos to pierce to the bottom of such pre- 
 meditated crime. 
 
 He had been furnished with a pass through the midst of 
 the Albanians of Reshid, who were encamped near the 
 sea, and also with an order for a boat to convey him to 
 whatever part of the city he wished. 
 
 Two Arabs carried the box on their backs as far as the 
 seashore, and a squad of guards escorted him. The under- 
 officer who commanded this squad began to inquire about 
 the condition of Misolonghi, and whether he thought that 
 it would soon surrender. 
 
 " As long as it has a drop of Roumeliot blood it won't 
 surrender," answered Lampros. 
 
 " I believe you. I saw something of what the Roumeliots 
 were at Dragatzana, and then down at Psara," said the 
 Gheg. 
 
 " Were you at Dragatzana? My effendi was there too. 
 He escaped from the jaws of hell like a wren from the 
 claws of a cat." 
 
 "Who is your effendi?" 
 
 " The nephew of the patriarch Gregory, Kyrios Thrasy- 
 boulos." 
 
 The Albanian grasped him tight by the shoulder, and, 
 drawing him a little behind the soldiers, said, " Was he at 
 Yanina? Is he the man whom the caftanji wanted to 
 drown in the lake, and I saved him? " 
 
 "What is your name? " 
 
 "Kara Seid Ali, I say, the groom of the caftanji." 
 
 "You yourself are Kara Seid Ali. I have heard of you, 
 Kyrios Kara Seid Ali." Lampros interrupted himself and 
 surveyed the man coldly and curiously from head to foot. 
 
 "How did you happen to be wandering around in the 
 Turkish camp? What is there in that box which the 
 Arabs are carrying?" 
 
 "I was a guest of Arnaout Pasha in his tent," said 
 Lampros, proudly. "The box is full of presents which 
 the pasha is sending to my master." 
 
 "See here, old father, don't try games on me, I say. 
 I was in Misolonghi when you left it on account of using 
 
The Precious Box 453 
 
 your pistol a little too freely. I know all about the 
 murder of the demogeront and all the deviltry of 
 Barthakas." 
 
 "And I know something better still, Kyrios Kara Se'id 
 Ali," said Lampros, shaking his head. Taking from his 
 pocket the chaplet of Barthakas, he began playing with it. 
 
 The Albanian rubbed his face, and reflected for a long 
 time. He cast covetous eyes on the amber chaplet, and 
 believed Lampros was either a traitor or a spy. 
 
 After some time he asked, "Is Arnaout Pasha with 
 Ibrahim? " 
 
 "Don't you know without asking? " 
 
 "If I knew, should I ask, I say? I came only day 
 before yesterday, with the brother-in-law of Reshid." 
 
 " Well ! Now you know. If you want my advice, 
 Kyrios Kara Se'id Ali," said Lampros, in a cold and arro- 
 gant way, "don't let the pasha's eye fall on you 
 because — " 
 
 "Because he will shave off my moustache," the Albanian 
 angrily interrupted, giving it a twirl. 
 
 "I am only expressing my opinion, comrade. Don't 
 get angry." 
 
 "Do you suppose I don't know the caftanji? I am 
 an Albanian, I say; and whoever fights best, I stand by 
 him. The stork does n't live with the innkeeper. How 
 can the Albanian get on with the Egyptian or with the 
 vile Turk! I am going into Misolonghi with you, and I 
 am going to fight alongside of old Thrasyboulos." 
 
 "Don't come with me, Kyrios Kara Se'id Ali, for other 
 people will think that I made you desert. As soon as 
 Arnaout Pasha finds it out, he won't believe me more than 
 a hazel nut. If you want to, come of yourself alone into 
 Misolonghi," said Lampros, in confusion. 
 
 Kara Se'id Ali no longer doubted that he had to do with 
 a traitor or a spy. The preoccupation of Lampros, his 
 cold and guarded manner, his precious string of beads, 
 and the idea that the box must contain other still more 
 valuable objects filled the mind of the Albanian. Before 
 reaching the reedy bank of the bay, he exchanged glances 
 with one of his companions, and also a few words in 
 Albanian, which the Peloponnesian armatolos did not 
 understand. After reaching the boat and putting the box 
 and Lampros on board, Kara Se'id Ali himself took the 
 
454 Andronike 
 
 oars, gave his companion the helm, and without other 
 assistance set sail for the mouth of the bay. 
 
 Lampros, entirely under the impression which Arnaout 
 Pasha had given him of the Albanian, began to grow 
 uneasy. " That is not the way to Misolonghi, Kara Seid 
 Ali," he said. 
 
 "Do you think we are going to Misolonghi? We are on 
 our way, I say, down to Cape Papas," the Albanian replied 
 with a grin. 
 
 Lampros was armed, for Arnaout Pasha, as we have said, 
 had given him a complete equipment; but his weapons 
 were not loaded. The Peloponnesian was truly brave. 
 He did not know how to boast or exaggerate; but, when 
 once in danger, he was equal to the emergency. His life 
 was like a romance, so many times had he escaped the 
 clutches of death. But he was no longer young, and, in 
 hand to hand fight, he was no match for these two 
 Albanians. 
 
 The man at the helm was the brother of Kara Seid Ali, 
 a youth of twenty, good looking, and full of spirit and 
 nerve. 
 
 Lampros remained silent, considering in the thick 
 darkness of the night whether he could best circumvent 
 the plans of Kara Seid Ali by cunning or force. 
 
 "And what are we going to do down there at the cape?" 
 he asked, after some time. 
 
 " We are going to open the box and take out what 's 
 in it." 
 
 "Is n't it a crime for you to take what belongs to Kyrios 
 Thrasyboulos? You have a blood covenant with him. 
 The box belongs to Kyrios Thrasyboulos." 
 
 " You are lying, my soul-father. It does n't belong to 
 Thrasvboulos." 
 
 "Whose is it then?" 
 
 "It is yours, you Peloponnesian," he said, with a wild 
 laugh. 
 
 Lampros began to swagger, and put his hand to his 
 pistol. 
 
 " See here, you fellow. You are a traitor. You don't 
 serve Thrasyboulos, I tell you. That box belongs to 
 Arnaout Pasha. Tell me, I say, how he managed to steal 
 away from the Psariots. I myself shut him up pretty 
 tight in the hold." 
 
The Precious Box 455 
 
 u 0n my word, I don't understand you, Kara Seid AH," 
 cried Lampros. 
 
 The Albanian began to narrate all the experiences of 
 the Governor of Lesbos at Psara, and his adventures in the 
 fig-tree. 
 
 The veteran armatolos was again somewhat shaken 
 concerning Barthakas. Yet the cunning and grandiloquent 
 way in which the pasha had revealed his scheme for the 
 deliverance of Misolonghi persuaded him that probably 
 the Albanian was trying this line of conduct to get posses- 
 sion of his secret and betray it to Keshid, who everybody 
 knew was at odds with Ibrahim. 
 
 They had already gone far toward the entrance to the 
 Gulf of Misolonghi. Lampros, a good soldier on dry 
 land, but a wretched sailor, began to grow sick from the 
 motion of the boat, and felt his strength every minute 
 decreasing. 
 
 The Albanian lowered the sail and abandoned the oars. 
 "I am going to open the box. Say, what is inside? " 
 
 "Presents, presents for Kyrios Thrasyboulos. He 
 agreed with Arnaout Pasha to betray Misolonghi," said 
 Lampros, who thought this the best course to take. 
 
 "Betray Misolonghi ! You are nothing but lies. Kyrios 
 Thrasyboulos has a white face ! " 
 
 Lampros cursed his luck that his pistols were not 
 loaded. 
 
 "Don't get angry. Look here," said the brother of 
 Kara Seid Ali, rising and pointing both his pistols at the 
 breast of the Peloponnesian, while his brother tried to 
 open the box. 
 
 There was no moon and the boat was invisible, for they 
 were in the black shadow of the Island of Procopanistos. 
 
 Kara Seid Ali in vain tried with his yataghan to open 
 the box, and began to swear in loud tones. 
 
 The slight island current was drifting their boat, when 
 suddenly they heard harsh voices. These came from the 
 Libyans, ten of whom, like birds of prey in the midst of 
 that marshy sea, attacked the boat, capturing and binding 
 Lampros and the two Albanians. 
 
 We have already said that a large Turkish corvette had 
 struck on the shoals of this island. Its sailors in the 
 darkness descried the approaching boat in the less opaque 
 blackness of the bay, and, supposing it to be a Greek vessel 
 
456 Andronike 
 
 bringing provisions, had leaped into the captain's gig and 
 quietly approached. When they heard its inmates speak- 
 ing Greek, they made their attack. 
 
 Kara Seid Ali, to save himself, began to accuse Lampros 
 of treason. Lampros, to prove his innocence, asserted 
 that, on the contrary, he was to betray Misolonghi to 
 Arnaout Pasha. 
 
 Kara Seid Ali protested, swearing that in the box was 
 money and food for the besieged. 
 
 Lampros said that it contained nothing but presents 
 for his master from Arnaout Pasha, and that to prove it 
 they might the next day send and ask the aforesaid 
 pasha. 
 
 "Open the box," said the boat's officer. 
 
 The box was opened; and we are acquainted with its 
 contents. Laughing, the officer gave it to his men, and 
 ordered Lampros and the two Albanians to be put under 
 guard. 
 
 The Libyans greedily devoured the fragrant and delicious 
 viands, and drank the rich wines of Barthakas. Soon fol- 
 lowed a hideous scene. While Kara Seid Ali was draw- 
 ing the attention of Lampros to the spectacle, and expecting 
 the rage of the Libyans to descend upon his head, the fire- 
 chief Polipis by good fortune fell upon the corvette and 
 completed the tragedy by delivering it to the flames. 
 
 What followed next we already know. The Hydriots, 
 having captured the survivors, about three hundred in 
 number, put them' all to the sword. Lampros and the 
 two Albanians they removed to their ships. 
 
 The veteran armatolos now saw plainly through the 
 infernal plot of Barthakas. He felt that divine Providence 
 had sent Kara Seid Ali and his brother to save Thrasy- 
 boulos and Andronike from inevitable death. He begged 
 that their lives might be spared. On account of his 
 entreaty, the Hydriots did not kill them. 
 
 We know that soon afterwards fire-ships lit up the bay, 
 and that the Greeks, having the next day defeated the 
 Turkish fleet and revictualled Misolonghi, again returned 
 to Hydra. 
 
 About six weeks afterwards Lampros was set at li^rty, 
 and then started for Misolonghi by the sea route, for he 
 saw that it was impossible to get there by land. Kara 
 Seid Ali meanwhile was exchanged for some Greek sailors, 
 
The Battle of Cleisova 457 
 
 then prisoners on the flag-ship of the Egyptian vice- 
 admiral. 
 
 Finally the armatolos reached the Gulf of Misolonghi 
 after Vasiladi, Dolina, Poros, and Anatolicon had fallen 
 into the hands of Ibrahim. 
 
 After many dangers and difficulties, he landed on the 
 Island of Cleisova. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE BATTLE OF CLEISOVA 
 
 The Island of Cleisova lies nearly half a mile southeast 
 of Misolonghi. It is not more than a mile and a half in 
 circumference. It is sandy, covered with sea-grass, desti- 
 tute of rocks, and does not rise more than two yards above 
 the surface of the water. 
 
 The only structure upon it worthy of mention was the 
 Monastery of the Holy Trinity, which the Greeks had 
 fortified with four small cannon. The garrison consisted 
 of one hundred and thirty Roumeliots under the command 
 of Kitsos Tzavelas. 
 
 The ship which disembarked Lampros was on its way 
 to Misolonghi with stores. Daylight, however, disclosed 
 the multitude of the enemy's floating batteries and lant- 
 zonis, and so it went back after landing a few provisions 
 on the island. 
 
 "What news, brothers?" the Peloponnesian inquired. 
 
 "Bad news, father. Where do you come from? " 
 
 "Erom Hydra, where the grand Miaoulis is. Our 
 damned government does n't know how to get the women 
 and children out of Misolonghi, nor how to help us. It 
 has no news. It does n't take any trouble for such grand 
 pallikaris ! What are those clerks doing? May the devil 
 take the whole of them ! " 
 
 "The nation will never get free this way. People are 
 killing each other as if the pashas were not spread out 
 everywhere," said another. 
 
 "Miaoulis is sure to come. We left him outside the 
 Ionian Islands," said Lampros. 
 
 " On your word ! " 
 
458 Andronike 
 
 " By my bread, brothers ! Do you know what a hurri- 
 cane there is on the sea? How our boat got here is a 
 miracle ! " 
 
 "If Markos Botsaris or Odysseus was anywhere round, 
 he would have attacked and driven off the army of Ibrahim 
 ten times already. What is Karaiskakis doing on the 
 mountains, and why does n't he come down? The Arabs 
 must be attacked from outside, and not from inside 
 Misolonghi," said Kitsos Tzavelas. 
 
 This man, descendant of the famous Photos and 
 Lampros Tzavelas, was then among the most valiant 
 leaders left to Greece. Short in stature, round-faced, 
 sober, and brave, he was a typical Suliot. Destitute of 
 education, with little enterprise or foresight, he was only 
 an excellent soldier. 
 
 The morning light was beginning to gild the lakelike 
 sea of this new Troy, and redden its bomb-shattered and 
 bullet-rent roofs, when about twenty-five hundred picked 
 troops from the many-nationed Mussulman army might be 
 seen embarking from the opposite shore upon Turkish 
 boats, and proceeding against insignificant Cleisova. 
 Likewise another body of three thousand oldiers, drawn 
 up on the shore, headed for the different neighboring 
 islets, purposing to wade through the shoals and sandy 
 places to the assistance of their floating batteries. 
 
 "Is Ibrahim getting all those soldiers ready for us? " 
 
 "For us, my pallikaris," the Suliot answered, with a 
 serious smile. "I want you here. We must attack them 
 in the standing water, before they spread over the island 
 like flies in honey." 
 
 "There are a good many soldiers, captain, all with 
 bayonets." 
 
 " And don't you like it when we are going to crush them 
 and free Misolonghi? Inside! Inside into the monastery ! " 
 Tzavelas cried in a tone of thunder. 
 
 The Greeks of Cleisova shut themselves up in the 
 Monastery of the Holy Trinity, just as the Greeks had done 
 with Odysseus at Gravias. Each took aim from the loop- 
 hole with his gun, fastening an eagle eye on the approach- 
 ing floating batteries. The ear of each soldier, obedient 
 to the lips of Tzavelas, waited for a word from him before 
 the finger pressed the trigger. 
 
 The silence which prevailed along the walls of that 
 
The Battle of Cleisova 459 
 
 monastery did not rise from impatience or fear. The 
 men shut up there were trained combatants, grown old in 
 battles, hardships, and horrors. They understood the 
 movements of the Mussulmans just as a nurse understands 
 and is prepared for the peculiarities of her child. They 
 calmly waited, just as the hunter waits for the pigeons to 
 alight. 
 
 The floating batteries began to fire, so that the smoke 
 might conceal the disembarkation of the artillery. Reshid 
 himself commanded these batteries. 
 
 "Let no man fire yet! It is n't time. Let them come 
 up a little nearer to our loopholes ! " said Tzavelas, run- 
 ning from one end of the monastery to the other. 
 
 After almost an hour the disembarking army and the 
 Arabs from the mainland, standing like amphibious 
 creatures of the Nile up to their knees in water, moved 
 toward the island with fifty crescent flags in front. 
 
 "Now for them, brothers!" shouted the Suliot chief, 
 when the Turks were not a stone's throw away. 
 
 Then began such a deadly discharge from the Monastery 
 of the Holy Trinity as reddened the soil and the walls of 
 the island with the blood of the crowded mass only twenty 
 paces distant. Those who escaped the bullets and reached 
 the walls fell under the yataghans of the Greeks. 
 
 The conflict lasted two hours. The sun had begun to 
 climb the summits of Aracynthus, when the wretched, 
 worn-out Arabs were no longer able to advance. The 
 rumor that Reshid had been wounded ran through their 
 ranks. The attacks had been repeated twice, thrice, four 
 times, but always in vain and with increasing slaughter. 
 
 " Can't you conquer a handful of men ! " screamed 
 Ibrahim, in rage. "Shame! You have sacrificed the 
 honor of the sultan. I will put myself at your head ! If 
 that monastery is not captured, I will slaughter you all ! " 
 
 "Reshid has been w-w-w-oun-d-ded," Arnaout managed 
 to ejaculate. 
 
 "Then you and Houssein lead the charge. What are 
 you waiting for ! That monastery must be taken, or don't 
 show yourselves to me with your heads on your shoulders ! " 
 
 "It is better to make the attack at night, not in the 
 day-time, m-m-y p-p-ash-a." 
 
 " At night ! In an hour I must have that monastery ! " 
 cried Ibrahim, stamping with rage. His red face grew 
 
460 Andronike 
 
 purple; and he waved his Damascus blade in the air, 
 causing greater terror among his own followers than the 
 balls of the enemy. 
 
 "Forward! forward, Arnaout Pasha!" cried Housse'in 
 Bey, brother-in-law of Ibrahim, who was rallying for a 
 fresh assault the Arabs, who were up to their ankles in 
 water. 
 
 "F-f-for-w-ward ! Oc-c-our-a-ge," stammered Arnaout 
 Pasha, who, finding himself between the sword of Ibrahim 
 and the bullets of Cleisova, thought the latter the less 
 dangerous of the two. 
 
 Then he got behind two Arabs, and always taking care to 
 hide under their protection, closed his eyes, pulled his cap 
 over his eyebrows, and began to make his tongue move 
 and utter incoherent words and phrases in a loud voice, 
 as if he were trying to encourage the troops. Also he 
 drew his sword and waved it mechanically right and left, 
 with the same uncertain motion with which his heart 
 beat. 
 
 Ibrahim yelled, threatened, beat the officers of the rear- 
 guard to make them set their troops in motion. This 
 time the Arabs fell upon the island with fiercer determina- 
 tion. The flat-bottomed fleet aided with its guns, the 
 drums beat, and the attack was murderous. 
 
 Barthakas saw Houssein Bey, perhaps the best com- 
 mander in the army of Ibrahim, slain at his side. Then 
 he lost all self-control. 
 
 The African regular troops pressed on. They rushed 
 by droves into the water, each trying to reach the island 
 first, and meanwhile the bullets of the Greeks shut up in 
 the monastery mowed them like grass. 
 
 Arnaout Pasha took advantage of the universal confu- 
 sion, sprang into the water up to his chin, and grasped 
 the rudder of one of the floating batteries, which had 
 grounded on the sand. Hidden behind it, he prayed to 
 come out unharmed from his present danger, and swore 
 that then as a private person he would set out for some 
 city of Europe. 
 
 The sun was just going down. The surface of the 
 marshes and swampy ground was dyed with blood and 
 covered with corpses. Suddenly the mournful "Aman" 
 succeeded the threatening shouts of the Arabs. They 
 turned their backs, and, paying no heed to their officers, 
 
The Battle of Cleisova 461 
 
 fell back rapidly into the sea in hope of rescue by the 
 boats. 
 
 Then Barthakas came out, like a drenched rat from an 
 olive cask, and scrambled upon the floating battery, where 
 already seventy other fugitives had climbed. This boat, 
 as we said before, had already grounded, and the weight 
 of the fugitives sank it still deeper into the mud. 
 
 In the flight and confusion Tzavelas and his pallikaris 
 rushed out from the monastery and ran to the shore to cut 
 off the retreat of the Mussulmans. Already seven floating 
 batteries had grounded on the sands, and the Greeks scat- 
 tered in seven different directions. 
 
 Lampros, as by miracle, found himself opposite Arnaout 
 Pasha. The Egyptians on that battery, as soon as they 
 saw their leader menaced and lamenting, sprang into the 
 water and tried to push it out of the mud. 
 
 " Shoot him, I say ! Oh, that hound ! " cried the armatolos, 
 in his fury; and in an instant he emptied his pistols, strik- 
 ing down two men on the battery with his balls. "Oh, 
 for that hound ! n 
 
 "Sha'n't I knock off your head, pasha effendi?" one of 
 the Egyptians asked Barthakas, seeing that there were 
 only two or three men on the battery, and that of neces- 
 sity he must be captured. 
 
 "N-n-no, n-n-o! They will not k-k-kill us. We shall 
 es-c-cape. D-don ? t c-c-all m-me p-p-pash-a ! " 
 
 "Better be killed than surrender." 
 
 The African had not finished the sentence before the 
 Greeks were on board. Barthakas was seized. The six 
 other floating batteries fell likewise into the hands of the 
 victors, as well as an immense number of small arms and 
 about twelve hundred bayonets. 
 
 The Greeks were fatigued, black with powder, stained 
 with blood, hungry, excited, and ferocious, like athletes 
 coming from the arena. On their side thirty-five nameless 
 heroes had fallen, like the three hundred at Thermopylae, 
 and there were almost as many wounded. 
 
 Ibrahim, in addition to his grief for his beloved 
 Houssein Bey, mourned the loss of fifteen hundred or two 
 thousand of his best troops, and of his most trusted 
 Eranco-Arab officers. Their corpses formed a belt floating 
 around Cleisova. 
 
 With a scowling face, the Egyptian commander-in-chief 
 
462 Andronike 
 
 withdrew to his luxurious tent, a prey to mortification 
 and affliction. He decided in future to follow the advice 
 of the Europeans who were with him, and to venture no 
 further assault, either by sea or land, but to hem in the 
 Greeks in every direction, and compel them to surrender 
 or to die from famine. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE ATHEIST 
 
 He who is unacquainted with the last days of Misolonghi 
 cannot properly compare ancient and modern Greece. 
 When the nations shall meet to measure elevation of soul 
 and the self-sacrifice of those heroes who dispute the seats 
 of immortality, this holy city will come forward with 
 certain characters before whom enlightened Europe must 
 bow in regret that so long she has known so little of their 
 achievements. 
 
 Those who have taken part in great battles are the 
 worthiest judges of valor and danger. Such men may 
 well marvel at this city, which in the space of four years 
 endured four determined sieges, repulsed ten different 
 assaults, and was swept by more than two hundred thousand 
 balls. We are about to behold it in the last days of its 
 agony. 
 
 A deathlike stillness reigned in Misolonghi as Lampros 
 entered with Barthakas as his captive. It was pitch dark. 
 Passing through the half-ruined streets, they heard the 
 stifled moans of persons perishing from hunger and thirst. 
 They heard too the shots of people who were hunting 
 water rats, weasels, carrion crows, and other carnivorous 
 birds. Not a single domestic animal could be found any- 
 where in the city. Camels, asses, horses, dogs, cats, wild 
 ducks, gulls, aquatic birds, fish-eaters, birds of every kind, 
 even swallows, canaries, and thrushes, which might have 
 chanted mournful elegies, all had been devoured by the 
 starving besieged. Even the wild vegetables on the land, 
 and crabs or shrimps or sponges in the sea, were utterly 
 exhausted. The wretched inhabitants in the darkness of 
 
The Atheist 463 
 
 the night wandered along the lagoon which bathed their 
 walls, and hunted in the mud among the refuse for any- 
 thing that would assuage their hunger or alleviate their 
 thirst. 
 
 Lam pros carried with him a string of biscuit which he 
 had succeeded in concealing from his fellow-warriors of 
 Cleisova. 
 
 Barthakas had learned about Kara Sei'd Ali. Although 
 trembling from head to foot at the thought that in a few 
 moments he was to meet his intended victims, he was at 
 the same time full of hatred for the Albanian. "That 
 cursed Gheg," said he to himself, " is my evil genius. He 
 was the good angel of Thrasyboulos at Psara, at Yanina, at 
 Misolonghi. He is the cause of my misfortunes. If I get 
 back to the Turks, the'first person I must cut down is Kara 
 Seid Ali." 
 
 The Peloponnesian armatolos had informed Barthakas, 
 immediately after his capture, that it was better for him to 
 follow in silence, and, hiding his identity, to pass as 
 an ordinary prisoner. Thrasyboulos and Andronike might 
 spare him ; but if he revealed who he was to the other 
 Greeks, they would tear him to pieces. Likewise he 
 whispered in his ear that, at the slightest sign of disregard 
 of this advice, he would empty his two pistols upon him. 
 Lampros wanted to astound his masters by bringing this 
 precious prize. 
 
 The house of Thrasyboulos had been wrecked by the 
 bombs of Ibrahim. The inmates were living in the damp 
 underground room over which they had arranged a few 
 boards. Although they themselves still needed food, yet 
 on account of the gifts of Lampikis, they were not in as 
 bad a condition as their fellow-citizens. 
 
 The first box of Lampikis, and a second which they had 
 received from him twenty days before, had saved them from 
 the general famine. 
 
 " I hear steps above," said Thrasyboulos. 
 
 "Open, Carl." 
 
 Scarcely had the Hungarian opened the boards, holding 
 the light in his hand, when he instantly shouted, 
 " Lampros ! " 
 
 " Lampros ! Lampros ! " They all cried with indescrib- 
 able joy. 
 
 " Here is the foul dog ! " Lampros said proudly, coming 
 
464 Andronike 
 
 forward and suspending by his neck in the air the infamous 
 teacher of Demetzana. 
 
 "Barthakas!" 
 
 " Arnaout Pasha ! " 
 
 "Tell us quick, Lampros, what all this means. Tell us 
 quick ! " said Thrasyboulos. 
 
 " At once, effendi. Stand still with your hands folded in 
 that corner till I finish," he said, turning to Barthakas. 
 
 Then he began the story of all his experiences from the 
 day he wounded Barthakas. The silence was profound and 
 painful. The villanous teacher was drenched in a perspi- 
 ration of shame and conscious infamy. Curiosity was at 
 its height, as Lampros told of leaving the camp of Ibrahim 
 with the box of poisoned food. When he reached the 
 supper of the Libyans, all, as if by one impulse, uttered a 
 cry of dismay. 
 
 At that moment the counterfeit pasha fell on his knees, 
 hiding his face in his two hands. 
 
 " Can you deny a single one of your actions, teacher ? " 
 Andronike asked. 
 
 "No! All the witnesses are here! I am the vilest of 
 men. I expect my punishment." 
 
 " Your punishment! Teacher, do you believe in God ? " 
 
 "No, lady. If there were a God, he would not have 
 made me so deformed and you so beautiful. He would not 
 have given me such a wicked and revengeful soul, and have 
 plunged me from one abyss of crime into so many others 
 deeper." 
 
 "You are indeed most wretched, if there is not a 
 particle of religion in your soul. Almighty God, pity the 
 fool ! " 
 
 " If I had had the least belief in repentance, I should not 
 have fallen from one crime into another." 
 
 "At least, have n't you any conscience ? " Couleas asked. 
 
 " Conscience ! Conscience has the weakest memory in 
 the world, especially when one succeeds ! w 
 
 " Do you think then that the stronger has a right to the 
 life of the weaker ? " 
 
 " No ! I think only if any one wrongs me, I must revenge 
 myself. This lady lashed me mercilessly. Why ? Because 
 I placed my boundless love for her at her feet. I fled 
 from the tower and brought the Laliots, not to kill any- 
 body, but to plunder. I promised them the treasures of the 
 
The Atheist 465 
 
 tower, and desired no other reward from them except 
 Andronike. You know what wild beasts the Laliots are ! 
 Of themselves, they killed whomever they met. All the 
 blame fell on me. After a man has once taken the down- 
 ward path of crime, he can only glide along to its end. 
 One event brought on another. One death brought on 
 another. I became a murderer without being born a mur- 
 derer. I became a malefactor without premeditation. In 
 my soul, which appears foul, perhaps there is some good- 
 ness. The overflowing evil is not natural evil. It is 
 exaggerated jealousy. The deaths I caused were only to 
 protect myself. My conversion was necessary, because I 
 could no longer live with you. And yet how unhappy I 
 was in the midst of all my rank and wealth ; not because my 
 conscience troubled me, but because I was deprived of this 
 woman. She is my only excuse. I will not utter another 
 word. I have seen death face to face times enough. Now 
 I shall harden my heart to meet it without a murmur, 
 when you inflict it upon me. I must die some day. Let 
 me die then on the day which you choose, and by your 
 hand." 
 
 Such a defence for a long time closed the mouths of all. 
 Barthakas had a plaintive voice and even a persuasive 
 manner. He so bore himself from the time of his entrance 
 as to make a deep impression on his hearers. 
 
 " We ourselves do not murder, Kyrios Barthakas, nor do 
 we employ the tortures of the Mussulmans," said Thra- 
 syboulos. " Your punishment will come from above. The 
 Almighty, whom you so blasphemously deny, will reward 
 you for what you have done. An hour will come when you 
 will realize His infinite justice. Now, that you may appre- 
 ciate the sufferings we have undergone in our six years' 
 fight against every obstacle, only to elevate our nation 
 and gain our liberty. I shall place you above in one of the 
 ruined rooms of this house, exposed to the shower of bombs 
 and bullets from your master Ibrahim, without food or 
 water, and without covering." 
 
 The nephew of the patriarch then signed to Lampros and 
 Carl to bind him and place him under the gaping roof of 
 the house. 
 
 "Were you such an idiot, Lampros, as not to understand 
 that that box had poison in it ? Did n't you see through 
 the caftanji in the least ? " 
 
466 Andronike 
 
 " After the dance one tells many tales. Would you 
 yourself have seen through him ? He filled my brain 
 with his stories. Do you want to know about Zorpyros 
 and the good Patra and Darionus, and all the miracles 
 of Babylonia ? And then he brought the sky and the stars, 
 with all the kingdoms and provinces, down before me to 
 prove how innocent and harmless he was ! Who would n't 
 believe him, when he told you how he loved Kyrios Thra- 
 syboulos, and when he had saved your life and given you such 
 amber beads and weapons covered with gold ? " 
 
 " Lampros is right, Kyra R ," said Andronike. " We 
 
 must ascribe our deliverance only to Providence. If 
 Providence had not sent Kara Se'id Ali, Lampros that 
 same evening would have returned to Misolonghi ! Do you 
 remember what our state was that night ? We lay 
 famishing ! Nothing but the box of Lampikis saved us the 
 next day. If the box of Kyrios Barthakas had come first, 
 who of us would be now alive ! I think then that we 
 ought to offer grateful prayers to the Most High, because 
 He saved us so mercifully." 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE HUNT FOR OROWS 
 
 Nothing but the Greek fleet could now once more save 
 Misolonghi. The Nelson of Hydra, five days after the 
 battle of Cleisova, appeared again in the horizon. He 
 waged a long-continued battle with a part of the Turkish 
 fleet, and consumed two or three fire-ships to no purpose. 
 He attempted a disembarkation with his boats, and wrote 
 to Nauplia to have some small vessels sent as quickly as 
 possible, so that by means of them he might accomplish 
 his design. But the numerous fleet of the enemy, their 
 still more numerous array of flat-bottomed boats, together 
 with their occupation of the islands of Vasiladi, Dolma, 
 Poros, and Anatolicon, frustrated his persistent efforts. 
 Not the smallest skiff could now get as far as Misolonghi. 
 The Fates were cutting the thread of its heroic life. The 
 gates of Olympus were opening to those genuine martyrs 
 of Liberty. 
 
The Hunt for Crows 467 
 
 The veteran Miaoulis pulled his red cap down over his 
 eyes, and, with beating heart and weeping like a child, put 
 his flagship in mourning, and sailed back as a messenger of 
 evil tidings to the Greek government, which was exhausted 
 by the factional feuds of so many years. 
 
 Let us descend to the underground room of the house 
 of Thrasyboulos, just a fortnight after the capture of 
 Barthakas. 
 
 It is noon. Men and women, in an ominous silence, are 
 engaged in sharpening and polishing their arms. The 
 valuable prisoner has been constantly kept bound under 
 the open roof of the house, and has become an object of 
 pity. In addition to the bombs, he has experienced every 
 torment of the besieged, — privation, cold, hunger, and 
 thirst. If they were able to spare anything from their 
 scanty meals, each felt that it should be given to the 
 inhabitants, and so abandoned to him only the refuse. Yet 
 such sustenance was all that many most deserving people 
 enjoyed to keep the breath of life in them. 
 
 "What shall we do with Barthakas, Thrasyboulos? 
 Surely you don't intend to leave him bound under this 
 roof when we make our sally?" said Andronike. 
 
 " No, indeed ! It is time to release him. We can't 
 keep him any longer, nor, on the other hand, ought we to 
 leave him here a prisoner. It would be the same thing as 
 killing him." 
 
 " Let him go to ruin, effendi ! What harm can the 
 hound do now?" said Lampros. 
 
 Thrasyboulos remained a moment in reflection. Then 
 he bade the armatolos bring down the teacher before him. 
 
 The heart of Andronike was oppressed by painful 
 memories, as she recalled that this man gave her her first 
 lessons in Greek learning, and that with him enthusiasti- 
 cally she had studied the ancient writers and poets of 
 Greece. 
 
 " Barthakas ! How does the life of the besieged seem 
 to you?" the nephew of the patriarch asked him, gently. 
 
 "Horrible," he whispered, while tears flowed down his 
 cheeks. 
 
 Andronike herself began to weep. She remembered her 
 father and brother, and turned her head away. 
 
 " And it will be still more horrible on each day to come, " 
 Thrasyboulos rejoined. " What you have suffered was not 
 
468 Andronike 
 
 '■ punishment, but only what we are all suffering. Your 
 punishment is in the hands of Him whose existence you so 
 blasphemously deny. Now you are free. Go away and 
 live as you best can. To-morrow night, the inhabitants of 
 Misolonghi, sword in hand, like the hundred of Gravias, 
 are going to leave their bloodstained walls and cut their 
 way through the Turkish camp. Who will live and who 
 will fall is utterly unknown. The finger of the Lord has 
 never deserted Greece, and will not desert her now. Go! 
 All Misolonghi is open to you. Walk around it. Pass 
 along its ruined houses and its cannon -swept streets, and 
 see the wretchedness, the horror, the famine, and the 
 heroism of the Christians. » Be proud of the tragic 
 spectacle which the Mussulman friends of your soul have 
 been able to cause, and even now, if possible, do not let 
 your conscience trouble you." 
 
 The manner of Thrasyboulos became more and more 
 stern and contemptuous. 
 
 Barthakas wept and expressed only gratitude and 
 repentance. 
 
 "At least give me some Greek clothes," he said. "If I 
 go out in these Turkish clothes, the people will tear me to 
 pieces." 
 
 "Give him some Greek clothes," Thrasyboulos said, with 
 a smile. 
 
 About an hour later, toward sunset, Barthakas, like a 
 stranger in a strange city, was walking slowly and 
 dejectedly through the streets of Misolonghi. 
 
 The suffocating air of the open town, although so oppres- 
 sive, was delicious after his stay of a fortnight in the 
 corner of the roof. As soon as he saw himself free, he 
 began to traverse the quarters and streets of the famous 
 city, and to review the successive steps of his checkered 
 career. Disgrace, shame, fear, passed without traces as 
 through a many-colored glass. Nevertheless his jealous 
 passion was inflamed to torment by the image of Andronike. 
 He remembered that she wept while Thrasyboulos was 
 reproaching him. All his past came back with vivid tints 
 to his memory : his golden days when, careless as a king, 
 honored and reverenced by all the inhabitants of the 
 Peloponnesus, he lived near this divine woman; then, when 
 he was about to taste the joys of paradise, Thrasyboulos 
 came in the guise of a hunter and snatched her from him. 
 
The Hunt for Crows 469 
 
 " madness ! " he cried. But at once he stopped. How 
 now could he gain Andronike? What hope had he of 
 escaping death? The world was ending that night for 
 Barthakas, as it was ending for the rest of the besieged. 
 
 Each passing moment was a step toward his grave. 
 Each hour was emptying his veins, and on the morrow 
 began the endless night of hell. The coward in the depth 
 of night must pass through a storm of leaden balls, of a 
 multitude of knives and lances, of every sort of sharp and 
 pointed instrument of death. At last he reached the 
 farther end of Misolonghi, where the bastions on the land- 
 side began. His mind, preoccupied, he had paid no heed 
 to the children who were digging in the ground to find 
 water, nor to the corpselike faces of the women, the livid, 
 hairy forms of the men, nor to the multitudes of sick and 
 wounded, the groans and cries of the sufferers, nor to the 
 general burnishing and sharpening of arms, nor finally to 
 the brutal and wild threats and blasphemy of the discour- 
 aged soldiers. 
 
 It was already night, and he was starving. Where he 
 should sleep, and what he could get to eat, he himself did 
 not know. He passed by two bastions and two sentinels 
 without in the least looking round, so absorbed was he in 
 thought. The guards, seeing him without arms, and tak- 
 ing him for the servant of some hoplarch on his way to 
 the outposts, did not rouse him from his revery. 
 
 "Good-evening. Where are you going, friend?" at last 
 cried one of the sentinels of the guard. 
 
 Then he turned his eyes and saw seven or eight armatoli 
 sitting on the ground near the gate, which was already 
 closed. 
 
 " How hungry I am ! Can you give me something to 
 eat? " 
 
 "Does your mother know you are out? Are we feasting 
 in Misolonghi? When so many people are dying from 
 famine, do you ask for something to eat?" 
 
 "Are we really going out to-morrow? " 
 
 "To-morrow night our troubles will finish. See here, 
 you dwarf, you are so small you will do well to get under 
 some one's fustanella," said another, making sport of 
 him. 
 
 "Sometimes the small fight better than the large," 
 Barthakas replied dryly. 
 
470 Andronike 
 
 "Bravo, comrade! A brave fellow, you are, I see. 
 Where are your arms though?" 
 
 "I gave them to be sharpeued. Can't anybody give me 
 a bit of a crow?" 
 
 "Of a crow ! Who is likely, I say, to go outside now, 
 when the Arabs are so near? " 
 
 "There are so many dead down there on the seashore 
 opposite Cleisova that there must be millions of crows." 
 
 "There are; but who dares go and get them? " 
 
 "Don't any of you dare? So many Roumeliots, and are 
 you afraid? How then are you going out to-morrow 
 night? " 
 
 "With our swords in our hands, and Karaiskakis will 
 come down from Zygos and help. We shall light signal 
 fires." 
 
 "I will give anybody five florins for a crow." 
 
 "And I will give my gold-mounted arms, worth twenty, 
 for a wing." 
 
 "And shall I have your arms, captain, if I bring you a 
 crow? " he said, looking him ironically in the face. 
 
 " You ! " exclaimed the Koumeliot, twisting his mous- 
 tache haughtily. 
 
 "I told you a man's courage is not in proportion to his 
 height, but to his deeds. What do you say ? Let us both 
 jump with a gun outside from the bastion, and see which 
 will bring a crow." 
 
 " Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! The dwarf is making sport of you. 
 Where are you from, I say? " 
 
 " I am a Bulgarian from the Black Sea. I was a pirate 
 fifteen years." 
 
 " So you are a sailor? " 
 
 " I am whatever you please. I have done considerable 
 on the sea and on the dry land. I have n't eaten anything 
 for two days and nights, and am like a starving wolf. 
 Kather than die of hunger, I prefer to go outside and try 
 for crows. Whoever dares, let him come too. Perhaps 
 we can find a camel or a horse, and then we feast like 
 kings." 
 
 " Bravo for you ! You are a pallikari like Botsaris. I 
 will go with you. I am so hungry I can't see in front of 
 me," said tVe man who proposed the wager. 
 
 "Who will lend me a gun? " 
 
 "Take mine, but I want my share." 
 
Pluto's Realm 471 
 
 "Don't be troubled. At least I will give you a crow. 
 I want a few cartridges." 
 
 "Here are the cartridges." 
 
 " Look here now. Let us understand each other well, so 
 as not to get separated," added Barthakas; "and so each 
 may look out for the other." 
 
 "Say on." 
 
 " When I whistle once, it is a sign of Turks and to go 
 to the left. When I whistle twice, to the left and straight 
 ahead. When I whistle three times, to the left and to the 
 bastions, for they are after us. Do you the same for me 
 as I for you. On starting out, I will take the right and 
 you the left." 
 
 The soldiers were accustomed to night expeditions of 
 this sort on account of the siege. Barthakas and his com- 
 panion leaped down from the wall. While the latter 
 turned to the left, the shrewd renegade took the direction 
 to the right, that is, to the Turkish camp, the torches and 
 campfires of which were plainly seen in the distance. 
 After they had advanced a little way, Barthakas whistled 
 three times. 
 
 The simple Roumeliot ran rapidly back toward the 
 walls ; but when he saw that the short Bulgarian did not 
 appear, but was going away from Misolonghi, he under- 
 stood the trick. It was too late. With remorse he reen- 
 tered the city at the very moment that Arnaout Pasha was 
 making himself known to the Arab advance-guards. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 PLUTO'S REALM 
 
 The Turkish camp, like that of Xerxes, presented a 
 strange medley of costumes and arms. In it were met 
 together all the wild tribes of the Mussulman East, with 
 their bedlam of languages and infinity of costumes. 
 Though united in hope of plunder and passion for war, 
 each was constantly suspicious of the other, and communi- 
 cation between the different parts of the camp was difficult 
 at night, 
 
472 Andronike 
 
 It was therefore by no means easy for Arnaout Pasha 
 to reach the tent of the African commander. He had to 
 pass from outpost to outpost and from officer to officer 
 before he was fully recognized. 
 
 Finally, at about eleven o'clock at night, just as the 
 company with Ibrahim was on the point of breaking up, 
 Barthakas appeared, dressed in the Greek costume and 
 carrying the long Greek gun. 
 
 " Arnaout Pasha ! " 
 
 "Welcome," cried the Mussulmans and renegades in 
 their various dialects. 
 
 " Are you really alive, my pasha? " said Ibrahim, lay- 
 ing hold of his beard. 
 
 "I am alive and well." 
 
 "Where have you been? What makes you look so 
 wretched? You are thin as a skeleton ! " 
 
 " I made a little visit to Pluto , and his hospitality lasted 
 too long. He wanted me to become acquainted with every 
 experience of his infernal kingdom. Thanks to Persephone , 
 at last I got away ! " Then he laughed loudly, and his face 
 took on a boastful and ironical expression. 
 
 "Tell us, if you love us, pasha," said Ibrahim, "how it 
 is you are alive. I thought you were slain with my 
 brother-in-law. And you got safe from that fire ! 
 A tchibouk and coffee for his Excellency." 
 
 " When I say to your Highness that I made a long jour- 
 ney to the kingdom of Pluto, do you think I am joking? 
 Listen, gentlemen," putting his gun down and laughing 
 merrily. "I have been in hell. In the first place I 
 entered its darksome woods. I crossed the noxious waters 
 of the Styx, which surrounds hell, in the midst of monsters 
 and wild beasts. Suddenly Charon appeared before me, 
 and with his skiff ferried me across Acheron into the 
 abodes of the dead. Prom Acheron I passed to the Cocytus 
 and fiery Phlegethon. Then they shut me up in Erebus, 
 and there Fortune, Sleep, Old Age, Death, Dreams, 
 Hatred, Mockery, Misfortune — all the children brought 
 forth by the sister of Night — came upon me in fury and 
 sought to drown me. I do not know as I ever should 
 have been delivered from that torment, if my good fortune 
 had not sent Persephone to save me. Finally I escaped, 
 like another Hercules, bringing Cerberus with me half way 
 to your camp. This is my exact story, word for word." 
 
Pluto s Realm 473 
 
 "Who can make anything out of it! Explain more 
 clearly, my pasha. You have kindled a lire of curiosity 
 in my breast," cried Ibrahim Pasha. 
 
 "This story surpasses those of Nastraeddin Hodja," 
 Reshid added. 
 
 "I understand! I understand what Arnaout Pasha 
 means. He has a devil of an intellect," added, with an 
 emphatic nod, one of the Italian adventurers who praised 
 others so as to be praised himself. 
 
 "Your Highness does not understand these legends of 
 the giaours which they call mythology," Barthakas 
 resumed, caressing his right ear with his fingers. " His 
 Highness, Reshid Pasha, says my story surpasses those of 
 Nastraeddin Hodja; but these wise men from France and 
 Italy understand it very well. Listen to what happened, 
 honored sirs. When his Highness, Reshid Pasha, was 
 wounded, you remember Ibrahim Pasha ordered Houssein 
 Bey and me to head the attack." 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 "You will remember also that my teeth chattered a 
 little." 
 
 " Yes ; I remember it, and I could not understand how 
 a man like Arnaout Pasha, who had grown old in perils, 
 could possibly be so terrified at that moment." 
 
 "I was not terrified. No; it is strange. On dry land 
 or on board a ship I do not care how the bullets whistle in 
 my ears. Whenever I put my feet in water to cross any- 
 where, immediately I shiver. This has happened to many 
 great men. Although intrepid warriors, suddenly they 
 tremble at a mere nothing. Charles XII, for example, 
 trembled whenever he had to cross a bridge. The famous 
 tyrant Caligula, born in the camp of his father Germanic as, 
 and always so brave, trembled at a flash of lightning. 
 And don't the lions themselves tremble and run away at 
 the crowing of the smallest cock? " 
 
 "Arnaout Pasha is right, gentlemen," Ibrahim inter- 
 posed. "I myself have acquired some little military 
 reputation, and often have despised danger, but I tremble 
 at the sight of that small bird which cleans the mouth of 
 the crocodile. Continue, pasha." 
 
 "So then, generals, I drew my sword, clenched my 
 teeth, and rushed into the lagoon at the head of our valiant 
 soldiers. As I am short of stature, suddenly I found 
 
474 Andronike 
 
 myself up to the chin in that frightful swamp. I shouted, 
 but who paid attention ! The soldiers were crossing above 
 my head, and were falling in heaps, slain by the giaours of 
 Cleisova. The stench was horrible as death, and the 
 bullets were whizzing around me like hail in winter. I 
 ask you, gentlemen, if I was not in fact in the noxious 
 Styx? " 
 
 u In fact you were ! " 
 
 " What is the Styx in comparison? This was worse ! " 
 
 "A frightful situation in truth," said the spiteful Reshid 
 Pasha; "but the truth is, Arnaout Pasha has such an elo- 
 quent tongue, and paints things so finely, that he makes 
 you take a bird for a messenger from the sultan." 
 
 "Highness, I am narrating the things naturally, and 
 nothing more. In the midst of that leaden storm I saw a 
 boat, and who do you think appeared before me? Lampros 
 himself, the man who wounded, me in the arm, and whose 
 life I spared. Like another Charon, he led me to Cleisova, 
 and then, ferrying me to Misolonghi, across the Acheron, 
 or the water, he brought me into the real hell, the place 
 of the dead, or the town itself. In brief, my friends, men 
 are dying there by hundreds every day. There is the 
 Cocytus in truth. Our bombs have converted the city into 
 a fiery Phlegethon; not a house there but it burns or 
 smokes ! The ungrateful Lampros handed me over to his 
 masters. They rushed upon me like wild beasts. They 
 beat me, tortured me; then, that I might experience their 
 own sufferings , shut me up in Erebus, that is, in the dark 
 garret of a house, and there I remained a fortnight, naked, 
 famishing, groaning, and exposed to all the bombs you 
 were tiring. My dreadful confinement in the fire-ship of 
 Canaris, which till a little while ago I regarded as the 
 darkest period of my life, was blessedness in comparison. 
 Fortune, Sleep, Old Age, Death, Dreams, Misfortune, and 
 all that brood of Erebus and Night surrounded me. I was 
 expecting Azrael, the good angel of our Prophet, to finally 
 take compassion on me and grant me death, and bear me 
 from such misery among the giaours, when one night my 
 door opened and a sweet voice called me. The sainted 
 Phatima, daughter of the Prophet, could not have poured 
 richer balm upon my heart." 
 
 "Who was she?" 
 
 "A Christian, the daughter of the demogeront of 
 
Pluto s Realm 475 
 
 Demetzana, married to a lame and worthless Mora'it. I 
 knew her intimately years ago in Peloponnesus. For- 
 tunately she was there, and she was in torments until she 
 found a way of entering my prison. Instead of dogs , cats, 
 and mice, which they were giving me for food, she 
 brought me a little bread. She is as beautiful as the 
 houris of paradise. The truth is that in the arms of this 
 Persephone I found Elysium. In a few words, when she 
 learned that her countrymen intended to kill me, she 
 brought me this fine cloak, and enabled me to escape. 
 To-day, I was wandering about Misolonghi, that earthly 
 hell, and was racking my brains as to how I might trick 
 the Cerberi and get out of the walls. Suddenly I found 
 myself in front of a guard. I pretended to be famishing, 
 and asked them for something to eat. When you want to 
 drive a pauper mad, ask him to change a florin. They 
 came near flogging me in their rage. They asked where 
 I came from. I told them that I was a Bulgarian, and 
 I begged them to go outside in the darkness and hunt for 
 crows. I dared any of them to follow me. 
 
 "Finally a formidable Suliot, a Cerberus himself, 
 decided to jump with me outside the walls. Another lent 
 me this gun. I wanted, like Hercules, to bring you this 
 Cerberus, but he found me out and ran away. Such is my 
 descent into and my ascent from hell." 
 
 u Wonderful ! Most wonderful ! " cried Ibrahim. " I 
 don't understand how they can do anything with guns 
 like these," interrupted an Italian ex-charlatan, as he 
 examined the Greek rifle. 
 
 "That ungrateful Lampros wants impaling and hang- 
 ing," said Reshid Pasha. 
 
 "To-morrow morning, fifty of the prisoners shall be 
 hung opposite their redoubts to expiate the sufferings 
 which my valued friend, Arnaout Pasha, has endured," 
 exclaimed the Egyptian general. 
 
 "But, most mighty prince, I have not finished yet. To- 
 morrow night, the inhabitants are resolved to come out, 
 sword in hand. They purpose to cut their way through 
 our camp and escape. Karaiskakis will come down from 
 the heights of Aracynthus and help them. It is best to 
 be ready, for they will fight like madmen. Their prepa- 
 rations are already made. That mob is like a pack of 
 wild beasts." 
 
476 Andronike 
 
 "Aren't you telling me that we have to do with real 
 wild beasts? Is it possible that they will undertake such 
 a daring and ruinous sortie," cried Ibrahim, rising up 
 with a flushed face. 
 
 "They will come out, and greater bloodshed than ever 
 will follow. Your Highness, I know the giaours, for I 
 have besieged them twice. The more you press them, so 
 much the bolder and fiercer they become. Did you see 
 what happened at Cleisova? Therefore let us permit 
 them to escape, and let us this time enter Misolonghi 
 without slaughter," added Eeshid. 
 
 "I do not share your opinion, Eeshid," the Egyptian 
 replied, after much reflection. " Such a course is cowardly. 
 Let us seize beforehand all the narrow passes, and the 
 foothills of Aracynthus, and let us slaughter and finish 
 with them all. The heart of their nation and of their 
 insurrection is here. The fall of Misolonghi will bring 
 the rebellion to nought, and will confirm forever the peace 
 of the sultan." 
 
 His European officers also approved this decision. At 
 once the whole army, infantry, artillery, cavalry, were so 
 arranged as to render the sortie of the Greeks most 
 difficult. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE FOUR AGES 
 
 The last scene in this thrilling drama is drawing nigh. 
 The twenty-second of April has arrived. The sortie was 
 to take place yesterday, but, through misunderstanding 
 between the Greeks inside, and those on the mountains, it 
 was postponed one day. 
 
 All the women of the city were to put on man's attire, 
 so that their forces might seem larger to the enemy, and 
 that the women might not be recognized and attacked on 
 account of their sex. 
 
 "So then I am a man," said Kyra R , winding some 
 
 white cloth about her head like a turban, and putting on a 
 cloak above her arms. 
 
 "I too," added Andronike, with a smile. "It is not the 
 first time I have put on a man's clothes." 
 
The Four Ages 477 
 
 On the faces of the two women was a stern look, which 
 testified that their cheerfulness was forced. 
 
 "Now then, my friends, before we abandon the ruined 
 walls of our house, in which we have lived together like 
 brethren for so many months, let us for the last time pray 
 for the full success of our bold undertaking, and for the 
 deliverance of our nation," said Thrasyboulos, and he 
 tried to kneel down. 
 
 " Almighty and most righteous God ! " he cried with 
 emotion, after the rest had knelt. " Do thou, who hast 
 created man upon the earth, save Greece ! Save her chil- 
 dren! Our patriarchs, bishops, priests, and noblest heroes 
 have already mounted the death altar of the barbarian for 
 the sake of thy holy religion. Accept the new blood of 
 us, the children, but save Greece and rescue her from 
 further tortures ! " 
 
 " Amen ! Amen ! " they all responded, and with tearful 
 eyes embraced each other. 
 
 " Lean on my arm, Thrasyboulos. Give him your right 
 arm, Lampros. In this way we shall not ever be sepa- 
 rated. If fate touches you, it must take me too." 
 Thrasyboulos gave a grateful, silent glance to his beloved. 
 
 Carl, Kyra E , and Couleas surrounded them in the 
 
 same seriousness and silence. 
 
 Beside the Greeks there were to be seen in Misolonghi 
 a great number of philhellenes, at the head of whom was 
 Dr Meyer, editor of the "Greek Chronicle." With one 
 hand he led his wife and their children, and with the 
 other grasped his precious journal of that long siege. 
 Together with them were Colonels Dittmar and Delaunay, 
 Captains Lutzoff and Stitzelberg, Lieutenants Klemp, 
 Schipan, Giachomouzzi, and Eosser, and Baron Eiedsel. 
 
 It was, as we have said, in the month of April, and the 
 sun was in Taurus. Eoses and hyacinths had succeeded 
 the monotonous snows. Gentle breezes took the place of 
 violent winds from the north and south. The endless 
 blue robe of heaven with its diamond stars was no longer 
 obscured by sombre clouds nor by the storms of winter. 
 It resembled a concave mirror, in which the flower-crowned 
 Ehea reflected the adornments of her charms. 
 
 And yet that Grecian landscape of delight lacked the 
 voice of summer. The incessant cannonade had banished 
 the careless but jealous nightingale. No bird, no living 
 
478 Andronike 
 
 creature except the crow and vulture dared visit Misolonghi 
 that summer. Neither the loquacious cricket, nor the 
 amorous butterfly, nor the sweet-freighted bee any longer 
 frequented that place of smoke. 
 
 Far above, higher than the place where Kara'iskakis 
 kept watch, the winged summer world of western Greece 
 had fled, as if overcome by panic, daring neither to sing 
 nor to lament the fate of Misolonghi, but huddling, terri- 
 fied, at every cannon-shot and bomb with which Ibrahim 
 rent the sky. 
 
 The sortie of the inhabitants of the doomed city is 
 worthy of even greater study before it took place than 
 after it was accomplished. That crowd was preparing to 
 open by the sword a way in the darkness through an over- 
 powering host, and to flee in the midst of a wary, sleep- 
 less enemy. Through the revelations of Barthakas that 
 enemy held all the roads at the foot of the mountain with 
 a numerous cavalry and artillery. 
 
 That departing band, all dressed in masculine attire, 
 included Four Ages. 
 
 Childhood! The bud of the community, the pure 
 symbol of human life, on whose merry countenance the 
 father recognizes the depth of his own heart, and in the 
 unstudied movement of whose hands, in the sweet smile of 
 whose mouth, and in the languid opening and closing of 
 whose eyelids, the mother, by profound pondering, tries to 
 divine the man whom she has brought into the world. 
 Childhood! It caught no shadow of the tempest which 
 was lowering above its head. Grief, joy, fear, danger, to 
 it had yet no meaning. The bosom of the mother was its 
 downy couch and her breast its rosy pillow. When the 
 sharp-pointed Arab lance pierced its innocent form, or the 
 curved Albanian sword cleft its tiny head, it reascended 
 to the heights, like a heavenly spirit which a moment 
 only breathed upon the earth, and had never been polluted 
 by our tainted atmosphere. 
 
 The figure of Youth comes next, of flower-crowned and 
 brilliant Youth, of man in the moment of his physical 
 awakening, when impressions are graven deepest in his 
 lively fancy, when the vital flame glowing through his 
 form is ready to burst forth like a volcano, whose swift 
 flowing blood judgment is unable to calm. Youth, living 
 only in excitement and transports, danced with joy because 
 
The Four Ages 479 
 
 its confinement was broken and the gates of Misolonghi 
 were open at last. It boasted in its might. It thought 
 itself strong enough to scale precipices. The heroic tales 
 of its fathers had so filled its arrogant mind that it forgot 
 danger, despised the lordly Mussulman as an imbecile, and 
 burned with the ambition of doing something worthy of its 
 name. Its characteristics were self-sufficiency and readi- 
 ness in speech. Its motions athletic, its step light, winged, 
 uncontrolled, and its words devout, guileless, sincere, patri- 
 otic. It thirsted for liberty as Tantalus for water. If in- 
 stead it met death, death was counted preferable to the 
 endless sufferings of Misolonghi. 
 
 Youth was regarded with a sympathetic eye by Maturity, 
 by that acme of human life in which judgment holds the 
 reins of feeling in its hands, when the ear no longer heeds 
 the admonitions of others, and the soul inhabits a developed 
 body, all of whose organs have attained perfection. On its 
 brow are discerned the laurels, purple with the blood of 
 past battles. Its ambition is prudent, speculating, and 
 tinged with jealousy. Unlike pure Youth, it does not in 
 an enthusiasm, or in the intoxication of joy at victory, cede 
 the glory to its neighbor. 
 
 Its every step is ordered according to the logic of past 
 events. The steel which it sharpens, the torch which it 
 prepares, the missile which it hurls, are made ready some 
 evening with the same pleasure with which the experienced 
 hunter cleans his gun. The hunter does not dream of hun- 
 dreds of partridges at a single shot; but he knows that, if 
 he finds the bird, it is his own. If perchance before him 
 appears some monster of the forest, he esteems his prize 
 more difficult but more desirable. It was not the first 
 time that this period of human existence walked the path 
 of virtue and glory. In other days, it trod it, not knowing 
 that along it were deep ravines and craggy precipices, and 
 that at the end of all was the dwelling-place of Immortality. 
 If it reached as far as that, it had gained its purpose and 
 satisfied its ambition. If it failed, it had at least the con- 
 solation that it had fallen on the great highways. 
 
 Next comes Old Age, that reverenced second childhood. 
 Man, after he has climbed his forty steps to noon, of neces- 
 sity must likewise descend forty-five on the other side, and 
 uncertain is it if he reach the forty-fifth. As long as he is 
 descending, so long his physical and mental faculties are 
 
480 Andronike 
 
 becoming exhausted, so long his hair is whitening, his 
 forehead wrinkling, and his knees tottering. His furrowed 
 face evokes reverence from the by-standers. He influences 
 those who are at the prime of their manhood. His mere 
 appearance suffices to bring peace among the most tumultu- 
 ous people. The mere lifting of his finger is enough to 
 seal the lips of the most reckless demagogue. His signa- 
 ture alone has the force of a solemn covenant. From his 
 lips flow proverbs, anecdotes, jokes, and examples, all de- 
 rived from what he has seen and experienced in this long 
 panorama of life. Of what sweetness is this age not full ! 
 If the soul was ever harsh in the midst of dangers, it 
 has become at last beneficent and tender. The heart once 
 athirst for glory, and swayed by passion, is now unruffled 
 and consoling. The benediction of its right hand symbolizes 
 the benediction of the Most High. It is the natural father 
 confessor of the other Ages, and pardons with the greatest 
 magnanimity omissions and wrongs. All that they are, it 
 knows. 
 
 The part of Old Age in this sortie of Misolonghi is 
 like the bringing into some obstinate sea-fight a flagship 
 now decayed and pierced by many balls, but formerly 
 crowned with trophies and victorious. Its side will be rent 
 asunder at the first shock, but its end will be glorious. If 
 it is converted into a fire-ship, and with it is buried in the 
 flames, then its end becomes thrice glorious ! Old Age was 
 to be such a fire-ship on that ever memorable night ! 
 
 Those whom years or infirmity did not permit to follow 
 the march through the enemy's lines decided to remain 
 behind as victims. Chrestos Capsalis was appointed their 
 leader, with a firebrand in his hand. Then many robust 
 and valiant Roumeliots shut themselves up in windmills, 
 houses, and underground places, resolved to fight the bar- 
 barians to the last, and then themselves to ascend as whole 
 burnt offerings on the altar of liberty. 
 
The Fall of Misolonghi 481 
 
 CHAPTER XVTII 
 
 THE FALL OF MISOLONGHI 
 
 It was eight o'clock at night. The besieged at the given 
 signal had gathered at the eastern batteries of Rhegas and 
 Montalembert, from which they purposed to make their 
 sortie. 
 
 Three thousand combatants, some of them wounded and 
 convalescent, were to head the sally, and cut a way for the 
 thousand artisans and five thousand women and children 
 who followed. 
 
 Although the Bulgarian traitor, as the European writers 
 call Barthakas, had disclosed the plan of the Greeks to the 
 Mussulmans, yet success depended very largely on Karai's- 
 kakis. This general, although brave and quick-witted, was 
 neither a Markos Botsaris nor an Odysseus. With an op- 
 portunity like his what might not either of those two cham- 
 pions have done ! 
 
 Andronike and Thrasyboulos reached the appointed spot 
 after the other inhabitants had gathered. 
 
 " This is the plan of the sortie," said Notis Botsaris, the 
 Nestor of the day. "By these four wooden bridges we 
 shall pass outside in the utmost silence. We shall collect in 
 front of our bastions, Rhegas and Montalembert. You," he 
 said, turning to the soldiers, " will fall on your faces and 
 remain so until we give the signal to attack. Then rush 
 against those two towers, which Ibrahim Pasha has built 
 over against us. You," he said, turning to the guard, 
 "as soon as you receive the signal, will divide into two 
 bodies. One body, composed of all the guards on that side 
 of the bastion of Montalembert, will cut through the middle 
 of Reshid's camp. The Albanians are there, so it will be 
 the most difficult part of the undertaking. The rest, with 
 the women and children and the unarmed, are to strike 
 through the Arabs of Ibrahim. All who survive are to 
 meet at the vineyard of Cotzicas, that is at the foot of 
 Mount Aracynthus near the Monastery of Saint Symeon. 
 
 "It is time to separate. Courage, brothers! Patience 
 and courage ! We stand alone, and yet all Europe admires 
 our valor. Immortal is he who falls to-night, and thrice 
 
 3' 
 
482 Andronike 
 
 immortal whoever survives to take vengeance for the 
 slain." 
 
 Only ten minutes later the pathetic scene of separation 
 was enacted on the seashore. The aged, the sick, and many 
 of the inhabitants who, unwilling to leave the place of their 
 birth, were to stay in the city, in tears were embracing and 
 parting from their children, brothers, parents, kindred, and 
 friends. Those moments were heartbreaking. Families 
 were being torn asunder. Each last kiss was followed by a 
 moan. The fiercest warriors wept upon that bloodstained 
 soil, and many a stolid heart was moved, hesitated, and 
 shrank back. 
 
 An aged gray-haired man advanced and wished to speak. 
 It was the primate Chrestos Capsalis. A sad silence for a 
 moment interrupted the lamentations. 
 
 " Come, unconquered souls of my sacrifice, end all this. 
 For the name of Christ, let the rest go out!" cried the 
 primate. " These moments are precious. Follow me ! I 
 will lead you to a place where, if the barbarians dare 
 approach, you shall find greater glory than these kindred 
 from whom you are now separated." 
 
 So ended this scene of parting. Chrestos Capsalis led 
 the women and children and the few volunteers, who were 
 to stay, inside the powder magazine, where were thirty kegs 
 of powder. There he was prepared to make to Ares a burnt 
 offering, not indeed of quadrupeds, of bulls and horses, but 
 of human lives. 
 
 "Glory to God! At last we are outside," cried Thra- 
 syboulos, as soon as he had passed beyond the walls. 
 
 " It seemed as if that heartrending scene of parting would 
 never end," said Couleas. 
 
 " Hush ! Don't talk," whispered Andronike, pressing the 
 arm of her betrothed and leaning upon her hilt. 
 
 Now irregular firing began to be heard on the heights of 
 Aracynthus, announcing that the hoplarchs there were 
 coming to their aid. 
 
 The people inside Misolonghi continued firing as usual to 
 deceive Ibrahim. The guards were going to start from the 
 city last. 
 
 Meanwhile Ibrahim, who had been fully informed by 
 Barthakas, had taken every precaution. He had sent a 
 strong body of Albanians to the foot of Aracynthus to 
 prevent the descent of Karal'skakis. All the rest of his 
 
The Fall of Misolonghi 483 
 
 army, he held under arms ready to intercept the passage of 
 the Greeks. He had reinforced the two towers and the main 
 positions of his line, and drawn up his cavalry behind at the 
 base of the valley ready to dash wherever there was need. 
 
 " How bright the moonlight shines to-night ! It is bad 
 to lie so with one's face on the ground/' said Kyra R . 
 
 " It would be better if there were no moon. It is like 
 day. The Turks are continually firing at our bastions. 
 What does it mean ? " asked Thrasyboulos. 
 
 "Has any one seen Barthakas to-day or yesterday in 
 Misolonghi ? " Andronike asked in reply. 
 
 " No ! Do you suppose he has escaped from Misolonghi 
 and betrayed us ? " asked Couleas. 
 
 " Oh, what a fearful mistake I made in releasing him ! 
 The fire of the enemy is as heavy as if they were all awake 
 and waiting. I wager my head that Barthakas has escaped." 
 
 " Was that Barthakas a Bulgarian ? " inquired a Suliot who 
 was stretched out near them, and heard their conversation. 
 
 "A Bulgarian! No. Why?" 
 
 "How tall was he?" 
 
 " He was small, humpbacked, bandy-legged." 
 
 "That is the fellow. He started for crows, and fled like 
 a crow," said the Suliot, striking the ground with his fist. 
 He was the man who had been tricked by the counterfeit 
 Bulgarian, and he told the story in a few words. 
 
 "It is horrible! If we tell the rest, they will all be 
 discouraged. Keep quiet, and God help us ! Now I under- 
 stand why Kara'iskakis has not come yet. He must have 
 met resistance," said Thrasyboulos, remorsefully. 
 
 "Forward ! Forward ! " cried a commanding voice, and at 
 once every one sprang up. 
 
 " Friends ! Don't let us get separated ! " said\ Andronike. 
 "Walk where we walk." 
 
 " Forward ! Death to the barbarians ! " This second 
 cry ran through the line of the Greeks as they rushed upon 
 the two foremost earthworks of the Egyptians. 
 
 At that same moment the women and children, with the 
 rest, issued from the city. 
 
 The hail of hostile bullets whistled all around them. In 
 the storm wide graves yawned for the vanguard of the 
 Greeks. Yet neither the cannon balls nor the lances nor 
 the hand-arms of the Arabs were able to check the onset of 
 the first line. Quickly they swept beyond the place of 
 
484 Andronike 
 
 greatest slaughter, dispersed the infantry, leaped upon the 
 outworks, and cut down like cattle the Egyptian gunners 
 and the French officers beside their own guns. 
 
 " Stop, Carl ! I am done for ! " cried Kyra E, , whose 
 
 breast had been pierced by a bullet. 
 
 She fell into the arms of the Hungarian, as a mob of 
 Arabs, armed with lances, pressed upon them. Carl planted 
 his back against a carriage, and called for help. Couleas, 
 like a true Spartan, ranged himself in front of the wounded 
 woman and her supporter, and fought desperately. The 
 torrent, rushing on behind, bore away Andronike, the lame 
 Thrasyboulos, and Lampros in another direction, without 
 their being able to turn their heads or eyes in a last look. 
 
 The Hungarian and the Spartan emptied their guns, and 
 with their swords dealt death everywhere. The multitude 
 of the barbarians poured there in crowds, and death was sure. 
 
 " Down with the wounded woman into the ditch, Carl ! 
 If you don't, the Arabs will be too much for us," shouted 
 Couleas, climbing upon the gun carriage and beating back 
 ten lances which crossed before his feet. 
 
 " Back ! Back ! I can walk," panted the Suliot, through 
 her clenched teeth. " Don't leave me ! " 
 
 The Hungarian carried her on his back to the trench, and 
 creeping backwards let them both down into the mud. The 
 moon was hostile to on-surging Misolonghi. Its crescent 
 horn, like a celestial symbol on that night of death, served 
 the earthly crescent of Islam. 
 
 Couleas was left fighting single-handed against a crowd. 
 Four several lance-thrusts had pierced him. His strength 
 was almost gone, and only his Spartan nerve kept him 
 alive. In that moment of appalling agony he had a sudden 
 inspiration. 
 
 The artillery was drawn somewhat backward upon the 
 terrace. Before its mouth in the embrasure of the parapet 
 the Egyptians had pressed to leap down into the trench. 
 Like lightning, Couleas made the sign of the cross, and then 
 fired his pistol into the touchhole of the cannon. His two 
 feet were planted astride on the axles of both the wheels. 
 The cannon was between and under his legs. At the dis- 
 charge, he was thrown to the ground by the recoil, at the 
 very moment when the ball ploughed through the enemy, 
 and the dust filled the embrasure. Carl and the wounded 
 woman seized the opportunity to try and escape. 
 
The Fall of Misolonghi 485 
 
 The Suliot was fatally wounded, yet in her extreme de- 
 spair she rose, rallied her strength, and with Carl, taking 
 advantage of the shadow caused by the outer inclination of 
 the earthwork, hurried across the trench, scrambled up the 
 opposite side, and at once set out to return to Misolonghi. 
 On the way they came upon a thousand other inhabitants 
 in a straggling rabble. While ready to divide into two 
 sections, as Notis Botsaris had directed, and to follow their 
 intrepid vanguard, they had suddenly become panic-stricken 
 and fallen into confusion. Every tongue began to shout the 
 fatal cry, "Back! Back to Misolonghi!" No one knows 
 who uttered it first, or why any heart gave way. Huddled 
 together, they were crowding to the city as the Mussulman 
 masses, rolling back and around, poured in from the other 
 end, or entered with them. 
 
 Let the reader picture those barbaric hordes, which, 
 through thirteen months, had been thirsting for the city's 
 blood. Each street became a slaughter-house, each house a 
 human altar. The conquerors, with sanguinary frenzy, 
 struck down and butchered whomever they could, regardless 
 of sex or age or condition. They destroyed whatever might 
 serve as a retreat for the Greeks j nothing was left, except 
 a glorious death or disgraceful slavery. 
 
 The mothers of western Greece were not the Sciot women 
 of Ionia. The old men and the sick still had drops of war- 
 like blood in their veins. Three times the Mussulmans 
 rushed upon them, and three times they were driven back 
 by stones and sticks and the chance weapons of despair. 
 
 Here valor was pitted against valor, despair against fe- 
 rocity, self-sacrifice against cruelty, heroism against rapine, 
 scorn and contempt against threats and blasphemy. Inter- 
 mittent pistol-shots, clash of swords, conflagration of houses 
 and bastions, moans of the expiring, wild yells of the con- 
 querors, taunts of the despairing, repeated on earth the 
 scenes of hell. There might be seen some barefooted 
 maiden with marble bosom and bare arm intrepidly defend- 
 ing a dying brother. There, a mother throwing her babe into 
 a well, and then springing after it, that she might not be- 
 come the prey of the dissolute Mussulman who was seeking 
 to enslave her. In those black streets, in the dust of the 
 ground, on the balconies of the houses, rolled Greek and 
 Arab, Greek and Turkoman, Greek and Albanian, locked 
 in close embrace, teeth set in each other's flesh, struggling 
 
486 Andronike 
 
 each to destroy the other, agonizing each to thrust his sword 
 first into the other's breast. How many wretched women 
 threw themselves into the sea and found peace ! How many 
 cast themselves into the flames of the crackling houses, 
 rejoicing in the kisses of the flames ! How many, in 
 the moment of dishonor, like furies strangled the ravisher 
 in their arms ! 
 
 While Kyra R was tottering through the city, she 
 
 lost Carl. It was written in the books of fate that the 
 ancient soldier of the Archduke of Austria should find his 
 grave in Misolonghi. He was slain, fighting like a true 
 Hungarian, in one of the cross streets of the ill-fated city. 
 
 The Suliot tottered, the sword in her hand, from one 
 street to another with the crowd in that fire of death, when 
 a second ball wounded her in the knee. She fell with pit- 
 eous moans in front of a house. 
 
 " A wounded woman ! " she heard some one saying from 
 under the window. 
 
 " A Christian ! Have compassion ! Open to me ! " she 
 managed to say. 
 
 " There is n't any more room." 
 
 " Not room for a wounded woman ! For a dying woman ! " 
 
 The door opened, and two men drew Kyra B, inside. 
 
 She turned her dying eyes, and saw the kegs of powder and 
 a disabled veteran near them with his lighted torch. She 
 saw Chrestos Capsalis with his ear strained to catch every 
 sound from outside. She saw many human forms waiting 
 with intense anxiety for the moment of the explosion. 
 
 " my Panaghia ! Better such a death than the silent 
 ball ! Water ! Water ! Water ! " 
 
 "Where are you wounded, lady? Where is there any 
 water ! w 
 
 " In the breast ! In the knee ! Oh ! " 
 
 The explosion of a windmill close by interrupted the 
 
 words of Kyra R . Ten men had shut themselves up 
 
 there, and, after fighting an hour with the Albanians, at last 
 blew up their enemies and themselves. 
 
 " They are coming ! They are coming ! " soon after said 
 a man who was watching from one of the windows of the 
 house. 
 
 " Our hour has come, my children. The other life is far 
 better than this," said the primate, rising and approaching 
 the window. 
 
Tlie Fall of Misolonghi 487 
 
 " They have come," he added a moment afterwards. " Let 
 us permit them to draw a little nearer. Kneel down and 
 pray silently, everybody." 
 
 The countenance of Capsalis wore an expression like that 
 of the Roman who placed his hand on burning coals. It 
 was not the first time that modern Greece had shown Europe 
 that she still possessed peers of her grandest days. Geor- 
 gios Olympios at the Monastery of Seka, the Psariots on 
 the hill of Saint Nicolas, Diakos on the spit of Omer 
 Brione, and the Danish consul of Scio impaled upon a 
 church candlestick were the Catos of the New Rome. 
 
 During those crucial moments Capsalis passed from one 
 end of the house to the other, encouraging all. 
 
 The Turks thought that here were concealed all the 
 treasures of the city. As they heard no gunshots, but only 
 women's voices, their idea became confirmed, and they 
 rushed upon it in crowds from every direction. Some 
 tried to get in by the windows, others by breaking down the 
 doors, others by climbing on the roof in the hopes of cut- 
 ting their way through, and so leaping in. 
 
 The doors were already broken through, and the steel of 
 the Mussulman clanged ominously, when Chrestos Capsalis, 
 standing, said, " Remember us, Lord, in thy kingdom ! To 
 the everlasting life, brothers!" 
 
 He plunged in his torch and the awful explosion followed. 
 The solid ground was torn open, and the sea from the 
 lagoon poured in. Some were drowned, who, after being 
 shot in the air, fell back half burned toward the earth. 
 Two thousand Turks found death around Capsalis, and five 
 hundred more in the neighboring houses. We are not reck- 
 oning the Greeks. Out of six thousand only twelve hun- 
 dred mutilated beings survived to endure slavery. 
 
 That was the most awful night which the Greek revolu- 
 tion saw. 
 
 Such was the end of Kyra R , the simple, passionate, 
 
 good-hearted Suliot, a genuine type of her countrywomen 
 of that day. In the midst of dangers and hardships, dur- 
 ing that lawless and chaotic time, they, by their cheerful- 
 ness, their example, their courage and self-control, by their 
 wit and their devotion, like modern daughters of Sparta, 
 shared the fortunes of the men and often became their 
 deliverers. 
 
488 Andronike 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE FUGITIVES 
 
 Let us now return to Thrasyboulos and Andronike. 
 
 After a murderous fight the Misolonghiots of the first 
 line found themselves inside the Turkish camp. 
 
 " We have become separated — Kyra R was wounded," 
 
 faltered Andronike as they passed to level ground. 
 
 " Forward ! " " Forward ! " screamed the mob in one 
 great shout. "The Turkish army is trying to surround 
 us!" 
 
 In the darkness of night both sides engaged in a silent 
 battle. Only the clash of arms was heard. The Greeks, 
 in despair, fought on to cut their way through the enemy 
 and pass out on the other side. Their foes, thunderstruck 
 at such determination , hardly dared oppose them. 
 
 The German philhellenes, Baron Riedsel and Captain 
 Rosser, with resistless fury, charged an Arab brigade which 
 with compact lances was guarding the farthest outwork, 
 and opened a passage, but were themselves slain. 
 
 "At last we are out! If I do not rest a moment — I 
 shall lose my last breath," said Thrasyboulos, trembling all 
 over. 
 
 "If the rest stop, we will stop too. The Turks will 
 pursue us ! They are sure to pursue us ! " 
 
 "The rest have stopped," said Lampros, wiping his face 
 with his half-burned fustanella. The Greeks had indeed 
 made a halt a little beyond the Turkish camp. 
 
 Thrasyboulos leaned his aching head on the shoulder of 
 Andronike. She and Lampros were almost equally spent. 
 
 " What has become of the others? Where are the 
 others? " asked Athanasios Razis, the commander of the 
 armed citizens. 
 
 "They did not leave Misolonghi. Don't you hear the 
 gunshots over there and the explosions ? The Turks cut 
 off their march," said Dr Meyer, the editor of the " Greek 
 Chronicle." 
 
 " Hush ! " A deafening roar filled the air. The sky 
 seemed on fire, and all the farther part of the camp was 
 lit up. The powder kegs of Capsalis had exploded. In 
 
The Fugitives 489 
 
 the sudden glare they saw the horsemen and mam- 
 louks of Reshid and Ibrahim waiting for them with drawn 
 swords in the plain. 
 
 "On! On! The Turks! Death or Liberty!" they 
 all cried as by one impulse. The Greeks discharged their 
 guns at the cavalry, and rushed toward the foot of Mount 
 Aracynthus. 
 
 While the ranks of the Mussulmans were reforming, the 
 Greeks pressed on. Finally the Turkish cavalry wheeled 
 upon the Greek rear. The fight was brief, but obstinate. 
 Stournaris was killed, but the horsemen retreated, either 
 because they were forced back by the fire of the Christians, 
 or because they discerned in another part of the plain one 
 hundred and fifty Greeks who had crossed from the island 
 of Cleisova and were trying to join the rest at the Monas- 
 tery of Saint Symeon. The mamlouks turned against this 
 little band. After a protracted conflict, in which heroism 
 could go no further, most of the Greeks were killed. 
 
 About three o'clock in the afternoon, Thrasyboulos and 
 the surviving Misolonghiots arrived at the Monastery of 
 Saint Symeon, where they felt comparatively safe. 
 
 Wasted by months of fasting, exhausted from intermin- 
 able hours of journeying through an earthly hell, each one 
 mourning a friend or kinsman whom he had left un buried 
 to the mercy of birds of prey, these pitiful survivors cast 
 themselves upon the ground in a convulsive silence. 
 
 " Misolonghi has fallen at last," said Andronike. 
 
 " Greece also has fallen," said Thrasyboulos, bowing his 
 head. 
 
 "What has become of Kara'iskakis? Where are our 
 soldiers from outside ? " many demanded. They could not 
 understand why the Greeks of Aracynthus had not come 
 to their rescue. Yet at that moment their chief thought 
 was to regain their breath and a little strength so that they 
 might, as quickly as possible, climb higher on the mountains, 
 where was their only refuge. 
 
 Soon they caught sight of a company whom they took to 
 be soldiers of Kara'iskakis. " Are you the Greeks ? " they 
 cried. " Yes, brothers, we are ! " Hurrying toward 
 them with delight, a murderous discharge converted their 
 joy to horror. The troop which they had met, which 
 spoke the same language and wore the same dress as 
 themselves, were Albanians in Turkish service. The fight 
 
490 Andronike 
 
 that ensued was the crudest of all. The exhausted Greeks 
 could hardly recognize friend from foe. The feeble and 
 many women, unable to keep on, hid themselves in the 
 reeds and bushes. 
 
 Perhaps the sudden attack would have been crowned 
 with entire success if, fortunately, the Greeks of Ara- 
 cynthus, though only three hundred strong, had not fallen 
 upon the Turkish flank. 
 
 The Albanians supposed that the entire Greek army of 
 iEtolia had come down upon them. Seeing the desperate 
 resolution of their antagonists, they tried to flee, but, 
 being taken between two fires, suffered much greater loss 
 than that which they came to inflict. 
 
 In this engagment the unfortunate Meyer was struck 
 down by a horseman at the foot of a hill. His wife and 
 child were taken prisoners, and his journal of the siege, 
 a priceless treasure, was lost. A few days before the 
 sortie he wrote, " We shall dispute Misolonghi foot by foot. 
 Our last hours are approaching. History will give us 
 justice. Posterity will weep over our disasters. God 
 grant, at least, that the narrative of the events of this siege 
 which I have written down may be preserved." 
 
 Thrasyboulos fell, almost expiring, among the stunted 
 shrubs on a slope, unable to advance. Lampros and 
 Andronike carried him on their backs as far as they were 
 able, and then sat down near him in utter exhaustion. 
 What a night ! Death seemed certain, either from the 
 sword of the enemy or from agony ! 
 
 Daylight at last began to dawn. Irregular and sullen 
 discharges in the city, intermittent shots upon the hills, and 
 here and there distant explosions accompanied its arrival. 
 The people, hidden in the bushes, who had gained some 
 moments of rest, rose and climbed higher, for horsemen 
 were tracking them in hot pursuit. 
 
 "Get up, Thrasyboulos. Come, my friend Lampros," 
 said Andronike. with all her old-time resolution. "One 
 hour more, and we shall be safe ! I know Aracynthus 
 well, and I know where to find caves and springs." 
 
 " So soon, my lady ! I am done for ! I can't get up." 
 
 "Wait a little, Andronike. Let us wait only a little 
 while longer. I can't move. Sit down so they sha'n't see 
 you," said Thrasyboulos. 
 
 Hardly had he finished these words, when a ferocious 
 
The Fugitives 491 
 
 mainlouk suddenly appeared, and gave a yell of delight at 
 seeing them. The heroine seized the gun of Thra- 
 syboulos, received the fire of the Turk, and, returning it, 
 shot him dead. 
 
 With a bound she grasped the reins of his horse. In 
 the saddle-bags she found bread. " Thrasyboulos ! We 
 are saved," she cried. The unexpected food gave them 
 new courage and strength. Then they put Thrasyboulos 
 in the saddle, and less slowly resumed their journey. 
 When they reached a more difficult place, where it was 
 impossible for the animal to go farther, and where they 
 found a crowd of refugees, they killed the horse to appease 
 the hunger of the fugitives, and its flesh preserved the life 
 of those cowering human beings. 
 
 The day had now fully broken. The bright summer sun 
 of Greece was shining, and the air was clear, except where 
 obscured by the smoke and dust of war. Far below them 
 Misolonghi could be discerned, that sacred city where 
 they had left their aged and infirm, and where, on 
 account of that pitiable panic, so many inhabitants had 
 returned to die. 
 
 From the heights of Aracynthus the fugitives beheld 
 the Turks from every direction triumphantly entering 
 Misolonghi. 
 
 "They have possession of it, but at a terrible price,' ' 
 said Thrasyboulos. " Most of the soldiers of Reshid found 
 death there, without mentioning the armies of Omer Brione 
 and the Scodra Pasha." 
 
 " To think of losing it after we had almost defeated the 
 enemy, and when he was worn out and preparing to 
 raise the siege ! To lose it from famine ! Everlasting 
 disgrace to the people who compose our government 
 to-day ! " 
 
 " If Karai'skakis had not been ill, he would have, days ago, 
 fallen upon the army of Ibrahim," a Greek interrupted. 
 
 "Karai'skakis was sick when the Scodra Pasha was com- 
 ing; but that did not prevent Markos Botsaris from march- 
 ing to Carpenesi to encounter the Turks. Botsaris died 
 like a great man, and his name will be the grandest of the 
 Greek revolution," bitterly observed the nephew of the 
 patriarch. 
 
 " Thrasyboulos, do you suppose Kyra R and Couleas 
 
 and Carl have been killed ? " 
 
492 Andronike 
 
 " Don't ask me, darling. Some day we shall know. For 
 the present, dismiss every recollection from your memory. 
 Our own misfortunes are unutterable. Let us see if we 
 ourselves survive. Our own fate is not decided." 
 
 Thrasyboulos spoke the truth. Death was a present 
 spectre before his eyes. The wound of his amputated 
 thigh had opened afresh. He was losing a quantity of 
 blood, but he dared tell them nothing, lest his companions 
 should become utterly disheartened. 
 
 By and by they rose and again resumed their journey. In 
 their company were many wounded and sick who could not 
 be cared for in the open air. Creeping from torrent to 
 torrent, from ravine to ravine, from solitude to solitude, at 
 last they reached the village of Dervenistena. It was deso- 
 late as the wilderness which they had traversed. Its houses 
 were in ruins. Its inhabitants had burned them and fled 
 at the approach of the armies of Ibrahim. Only a few 
 soldiers of Karaiskakis were there on guard, and their hopes 
 of shelter were disappointed. They straggled on in groups 
 toward Amphissa, the modern Salona, and in that short 
 distance six hundred of the unfortunates succumbed to 
 their sufferings or to fatigue. There they found the Gen- 
 eral Konstantinos Botsaris, who was thunderstruck at their 
 appearance. No one could believe that they were all that 
 remained from holy Misolonghi ; no one could believe that 
 the city had fallen. The soldiers and inhabitants of Salona 
 threw themselves into their arms and embraced them with 
 tears, and listened to the story of all they had undergone. 
 
 Out of the three thousand who had started, only thirteen 
 hundred were left. Apparently the Greek revolution had 
 ended, and no hope longer remained for the regeneration 
 of the nation. And yet the result was in the hands of 
 God. 
 
 It was then the sixteenth of April. On the fourth of 
 that same month and year the Emperor of Russia and the 
 Duke of AVellington had signed an agreement for the de- 
 liverance of Greece. This took the form of that first pro- 
 tocol by which Greece was declared independent, though 
 paying a tribute to the sultan. On this foundation stone 
 was built our present national existence. 
 
The Shade of the Patriarch Gregory 493 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE SHADE OF THE PATRIARCH GREGORY 
 
 It is a marvel that Misolonghi was able to hold out so 
 long. Its protracted existence was not wholly due to the 
 heroism of its inhabitants. A large share in the glory 
 belongs to the Admiral Miaoulis, who, in the space of ten 
 months, three times fought with and dispersed the Turkish 
 fleet and revictualled the city ; also to the inhabitants of 
 the Ionian Islands, who sent food and stores, and afforded all 
 the succor they could, and after the supreme misfortune put 
 on mourning, just as if the disaster had befallen their own 
 islands. 
 
 The refugees soon afterwards left Salona and crossed to 
 Peloponnesus ; while Reshid Pasha, after fortifying his con- 
 quest, marched with the balance of his army to Bceotia 
 and Attica. 
 
 When Thrasyboulos arrived at Nauplia, he was in a 
 lethargic condition ominous of speedy death. Andronike 
 hid her sobs in her bosom, and tried to nurse him as best 
 she could. They dwelt in an elevated quarter of the town, 
 directly beneath the spurs of the mountain, whence they 
 might look out on the sea and enjoy the pure air. 
 
 The second day after their arrival, her lover showed signs 
 of improvement. His comfortable bed, the cooler temper- 
 ature, the sea breeze, revived him a little. He seemed to 
 obtain benefit from the poultices which the physicians 
 applied to his gaping wound, and he found his tongue, 
 which for two days had seemed paralyzed. 
 
 Lampros constantly tried to amuse him. Whenever he 
 went to the market, he was careful on his return to tell him 
 the news. If there was something disagreeable, or if the 
 Turks gained a victory, he said nothing about it, or tried to 
 diminish its importance. 
 
 "My darling Andronike, tell me the truth," one day said 
 the sick man, with an effort. " Do not the physicians con- 
 sider my wound incurable ? " 
 
 " They have said nothing like that to me. On the other 
 hand, they are giving me hopes. Don't you yourself see 
 how much better you are ? " 
 
494 Andronike 
 
 " Don't let us flatter ourselves in vain, my precious 
 Andronike," he resumed, taking her hand in both of his. 
 " The poison of the gangrene is already diffused through 
 my veins. Yes, my soul, my Andronike, I feel a sharp 
 burning lire pouring all through my breast and brain. 
 Sometimes it suddenly stops, and I pant for breath, and my 
 heart stops beating. Andronike, my darling, my sweet 
 Andronike, the end is not far ! You see how calmly I am 
 waiting. You know well," he added, with a faint smile, 
 " that Death has no meaning for us who have despised him 
 so often : besides divine Providence knows what it does. 
 To-day there is such inequality between me and my An- 
 dronike that our marriage would of necessity render us 
 both wretched." 
 
 " You must be feverish when you talk so, Thrasyboulos. 
 I have sense enough not to pay attention to your words. 
 Let us change this unpleasant and doleful conversation. 
 Can't we talk about something more agreeable?" 
 
 " The truth is the truth. I feel that I am about to die," 
 he added, pressing her hand convulsively in his grasp. He 
 smothered a deep sob in his throat. 
 
 "I do not think God will deal me this blow," cried the 
 young woman, turning away her face, and trying to hide her 
 tears. 
 
 " Stop ! Do not weep, my gentle Andronike. My heart 
 bleeds, not because I am leaving the world ; but because I 
 am leaving you, my most precious one, while the country 
 is in utmost danger of again falling under the yoke of the 
 barbarians. Summon a priest. I want to partake of the 
 sacrament." 
 
 He was unable to finish. His voice failed; his glassy 
 eyes became fixed and terrible. 
 
 " my God ! My God ! " cried the broken-hearted girl, 
 and she kneeled down by the bed. " Lord Almighty," she 
 said, raising her hands toward heaven, "take me too with 
 him, if such a fearful blow is coming ! I to be left utterly, 
 utterly alone in the world ! " 
 
 "You will not be left alone. Don't cry. The finger of 
 the Lord has never deserted you," he interposed in a faint 
 and almost inaudible voice. 
 
 "No, I will not outlive you, Thrasyboulos. If I have 
 endured my misfortunes bravely, it was because I had the 
 hope of seeing you again and passing my days near you, 
 
The Shade of the Patriarch Gregory 495 
 
 and near yon finding all my family once more, Thrasybou- 
 los," and she threw herself into the arms of the sick man, 
 unable to finish. Thrasyboulos pressed her in his dying 
 arms, and both of them wept like little children. 
 
 A chill perspiration covered his face. The hair of his 
 head, on which the young woman had leaned her hand, was 
 damp and cold. In vain with her burning lips did she try 
 to infuse some warmth into his, which were white and 
 pinched. His glazing eyes were already discerning in the 
 lighter ether the angels descending to receive him. His 
 hand seemed to shrivel, became white as snow, and opened 
 like a faded flower in the other palm of Andronike. 
 
 " An-dro-ni-ke, I am dy-ing." 
 
 " Open your eyes ! Look at me, Thrasyboulos ! Lampros ! 
 Christians ! O my God ! Make haste ! Help, Pana- 
 ghia ! I have lost my reason ! " Like a crazy person, she 
 began to scream, and ran from one end of the chamber to 
 the other. 
 
 Lampros, the physicians, and a nurse who was waiting 
 in the next room, rushed in. 
 
 The soul of Thrasyboulos made one last effort to open 
 the eyes of his transient dwelling; but there was only a 
 flutter in his veins, and the sweet voice of his beloved 
 barely reached him. The trumpets of the celestial mes- 
 sengers were drowning her accents in their holy music, 
 and their snowy wings were wafting him up Jacob's 
 ladder. 
 
 "He is dead! He is dead! O my Father!" Then 
 she tore her hair, gave a shrill wild cry which pierced all 
 through the neighborhood, and fell senseless upon the form 
 of her betrothed. 
 
 Lampros, with moans and sobs, was kissing and fondling 
 the hand of his master. 
 
 " Did I not tell you, lady," said the doctor to the nurse, 
 looking at his watch, " that toward one o'clock this after- 
 noon that unhappy young man was to breathe his last ? It 
 is just one o'clock. The gangrene had advanced rapidly, 
 and the apparent improvement which he showed a little 
 while ago was the plain indication of his death. Everlast- 
 ing be your memory, worthy young man ! Everlasting be 
 your memory, revered relic of Misolonghi ! " 
 
 " Everlasting be your memory ! Everlasting be your 
 memory ! " the nurse added, weeping. 
 
496 Andronike 
 
 Tears poured down the cheeks of the veteran armatolos. 
 He muttered inarticulate sounds, but had no voice to 
 speak. 
 
 They placed Andronike upon another bed, and tried to 
 restore her to consciousness. On recovering from her 
 swoon, she returned to moans and tears and frenzy, and 
 finally fell into a heavy, protracted sleep. 
 
 She seemed to see her father, mother, and brother, stand- 
 ing with her inside a magnificent cathedral. The patriarch 
 Gregory was issuing from the bema, leading Thrasyboulos 
 by the hand. The face of her lover was fresh and radiant, 
 his figure comely and beautiful as when first she met 
 him. 
 
 The patriarch was attended by a train of priests carrying 
 tapers and censers. Two deacons bore a silver plate on 
 which were the marriage crowns. Andronike was attired 
 like a bride. Her raven hair was hidden under a white 
 and embroidered veil, adorned with golden ribbons and 
 precious stones. Her figure was robed in a dress of purple 
 silk, decked with pearls and fringes of light and varied 
 delicate fabric. 
 
 The marriage rite began. Then the patriarch took his 
 nephew by the hand and passed out of the church, signing 
 to Andronike to follow. She too tried to go out, but felt as 
 if she were bound. She collected her strength and struggled, 
 but in vain. She sought for her kindred; but they had 
 vanished. In her excitement she awoke, shrieking and 
 wailing. 
 
 It was after midnight. The doctors had gone. Only the 
 aged nurse was watching beside her, while Lampros kept 
 his vigil near his master. On the right and left of the bed 
 two large tapers were burning. 
 
 " What a dream ! " she cried, rubbing her parched eyes. 
 " My own peace is at hand, mother," she said to the nurse, 
 and she narrated her vision. 
 
 "You have many years to live, my daughter," she re- 
 plied. " How many, many things time makes us forget ! " 
 
 " Time ! But my time is not long," she added, and she 
 turned to go to the death chamber. 
 
 " It is better for you, lady, not to go back there any 
 more. Your sorrow will only become harder to bear." 
 
 "No, I am calm," replied the young woman, with an 
 effort at self-control, and slowly she entered the chamber 
 
The Finger of the Lord 497 
 
 of death. " Lampros, go and take some rest. You need 
 it. You have hardly slept since the night we left 
 Misolonghi." 
 
 " No, my lady, I am not tired," he replied, and as soon as 
 lie saw her he began to weep. 
 
 " Go, Lampros, go. I will watch. I have slept so long." 
 
 "Truly, my lady?" 
 
 " Yes, truly. Go ! " she added, and she put out her hand 
 to him. 
 
 Lampros fastened it to his lips, moistened it with his 
 tears, and went out sadly, his head bowed on his breast. 
 
 When Andronike was left alone, she closed the door, 
 kissed once more, silently and mournfully, the shrunken 
 lips and the eyes of her friend, and then, kneeling near 
 one of the tapers, she prayed until dawn for the repose of 
 the departed soul. 
 
 A little after noon, the nephew of the patriarch Gregory 
 was buried without pomp in the cemetery of the city. His 
 remains were accompanied only by a few of his fellow- 
 soldiers from Misolonghi. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE FINGER OF THE LORD 
 
 Terrible for the Peloponnesians were the years 1826 
 and 1827. The unclean and sickly army of the Egyptians 
 brought or developed in its train foul diseases, that in every 
 direction fell upon those inhabitants whom the sword had 
 spared. Nauplia was ravaged by a destructive pestilence. 
 
 Andronike was attacked by it a few days after the burial 
 of her betrothed, and suffered a sickness which carried her 
 to the very doors of the tomb. Thanks to her perfect con- 
 stitution, her temperate habits, and her frugal training 
 from childhood, she escaped death in spite of her longing 
 to die. Eour months afterwards she quitted Nauplia, a 
 dreary and perilous place of sojourn, and with Lampros 
 returned to Arcadia, where she knew all the places of 
 refuge. 
 
 The aged hermit Papazoglou had died a few months be- 
 fore, from grief at the fall of Misolonghi. On the summit 
 
 32 
 
498 Andronike 
 
 of Saint Elias his place was taken by three other monks, 
 or rather military priests, who had fortified the deserted 
 chapel and made of the height a sort of fortress and mili- 
 tary asylum. 
 
 Greece had apparently become a subjugated land, and 
 yet here and there its children were fighting with hopeless 
 obstinacy. To-day they destroyed the trophy which their 
 vanquishers erected yesterday, and prevented the entire 
 suppression of the revolution. 
 
 After the fall of Misolonghi, Karai'skakis began to re- 
 trieve his somewhat tarnished reputation. He showed 
 himself valiant and sagacious, and was able to reconcile 
 the factions and check the progress of Reshid Pasha. He 
 gained more than one victory, and revived the sinking 
 courage of the Greeks. Then, when the hopes of the 
 nation were centred upon him, he gloriously fell in the 
 battle of Munichia, while rallying his men. His monument 
 now attracts the attention of every traveller on the road 
 from the Piraeus to Athens. 
 
 Greece mourned him as her last champion. No one else 
 could counteract the influence and correct the mistakes of 
 Lord Cochrane, who, by his ill-timed rashness, brought upon 
 the Greeks, then balancing between freedom and death, 
 that terrible defeat where fifteen hundred of our most 
 valiant soldiers and our leading hoplarchs were either slain 
 or taken prisoners. The Acropolis, that eastern gate of 
 Greece, was itself also overcome. Eeshid Pasha could now 
 defile the Parthenon and the propylsea, and having overrun 
 Parnassus, Helicon, and every hallowed spot of antiquity, 
 return a conqueror to his delightful Yanina, leaving Ibra- 
 him to finish the little that still remained. 
 
 The adopted son of the Viceroy of Egypt was in the full 
 tide of success. All the superficial refinement he mani- 
 fested when he entered Greece seemed, during his three 
 years' stay, to have been lost in blood. He had reverted to 
 savagery. Passing to the excess of barbarism, Ibrahim had 
 become one of the most ferocious and merciless monsters 
 which ever scourged humanity. 
 
 He plundered and ravaged Elis, Arcadia, and Messenia, 
 cutting down the trees, levelling the gardens, and putting 
 to the sword every human being capable of resistance. 
 Wherever before there had been an olive or orange tree, 
 were now ashes and embers. Wherever had been a city 
 
The Finger of the Lord 499 
 
 and men, were now stones and birds of carrion. Where 
 once were villages and hamlets, were now the tents and 
 campfires of the Arabs. Where once was a plain, verdant 
 with corn or vines, was now a lurid blending of flame, 
 smoke, and sparks. 
 
 Nor were the lofty and majestic mountains of Pelopon- 
 nesus exempt. In their transparent air, where, even in the 
 worst days of servitude, the foot of a slave had never 
 trodden, were now lamentations and misery. The sick, the 
 aged, the women and children, and all the unfortunates had 
 gathered there after abandoning their towns and hamlets. 
 Nor was there a mountain crest or chasm or forest which 
 was not converted into a cemetery, hospital, or asylum of 
 distress. Men died there from hunger, sickness, and wounds 
 by scores every day, unseen and unpitied. There too 
 others waited to see if Europe would remain forever in- 
 different to their condition. There too lingered the desolate 
 Andronike, plunged in mourning for her lover and country. 
 
 The only part of Greece in which the insurrection still 
 maintained a feeble life was Argolis and Mount Taygetos 
 in Laconia. To Argolis had fled the government and those 
 selfish patriots whose ambitious projects and civil dis- 
 sensions opened the wounds of the poor country more than 
 did Ibrahim himself. On Taygetos the intrepid Laconians, 
 women as well as men, in constant skirmishes, fought fiercely 
 against the Arabs with stones, clubs, and knives. 
 
 In one of his letters, Captain Hamilton, of the frigate 
 " Cambrian," a humane and trustworthy man and a sincere 
 friend of the Greeks, says, " If Ibrahim remains a year 
 longer in the Peloponnesus, not one third of the inhabitants 
 will be left alive." 
 
 Meanwhile Ibrahim was approaching the completion of 
 the great design for which he had come to Greece. He 
 returned to Navarino, where the Egyptian, Libyan, and 
 Turkish fleet had again collected, and was about to embark 
 troops to convey them to Hydra. 
 
 We remember the exclamation of the Egyptian conqueror, 
 when from the heights of Argolis he gazed upon this island 
 through his glass : " Ah, when, my little England, will you 
 iall into this hand of mine ! " His resentment was now all 
 the more inflamed because Miaoulis in so many engagements 
 had defeated his fleets. 
 
500 Andronike 
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE WORD OF HONOR 
 
 At Navarino the two divisions of the Egyptian fleet were 
 moored. The first division was commanded by the capoudan 
 bey. It comprised two line-of-battle ships of eighty-five 
 guns, eight frigates of forty-four guns, nine corvettes, and a 
 brig. The second division was under Moharrem Bey, a 
 pupil of the Erench rear-admiral Le Tellier, who had drilled 
 three thousand of its sailors. It comprised two frigates of 
 sixty-four guns, eleven corvettes, six schooners, six fire-ships, 
 and forty-four transports. In addition there was also the 
 imperial fleet, no longer commanded by Chosreph, but by 
 Tachir Pasha, an energetic and brave man, but as sanguinary 
 as Kara Ali of Scio. The combined fleet carried two thou- 
 sand two hundred and forty cannon. 
 
 Barthakas was also on board, in constant attendance on 
 Ibrahim. No doubt existed in his mind that in the catas- 
 trophe of Misolonghi all his enemies had been ingulfed. 
 He was already weary of so unsettled a life. Murder and 
 battle had rendered him so nervous that he longed to return 
 for rest to Lesbos. He planned to get his property together, 
 and then to solicit the position of ambassador to Europe, or 
 as a private person to remove to some one of its large cities. 
 
 While Barthakas was reflecting as to what he should do, 
 on the nineteenth of September, 1827, Captain Hamilton 
 brought a letter from Admiral Codrington to Ibrahim Pasha. 
 This letter stated that the recognition of the freedom of 
 Greece had been signed at London, and that in consequence 
 the Turks would no longer be permitted to carry on hostili- 
 ties, but must grant an amnesty to the Greeks. Barthakas 
 translated this letter to his stern master, who was astounded 
 at its contents. 
 
 " Now that I have conquered Greece, do you mean that 
 the other giaours have set it free ? " he cried. 
 
 Captain Hamilton was waiting. 
 
 "Tell him that I do not understand such a communication. 
 Add to him, that neither from my sovereign nor from the 
 viceroy, my father, have I received any order to cease hos- 
 tilities. Let me have time to reflect." 
 
The Word of Honor 501 
 
 Captain Hamilton departed. 
 
 " The giaours free ! " he cried, foaming, as soon as the 
 Englishman was gone. "The giaours! I understand them 
 well ! I was expecting this ! I swear by Omar I will slay- 
 all the Franks whom I have in my army and fleet ! " 
 Ibrahim paced the deck hastily, convulsively clenching his 
 hands. 
 
 "My lord, do not lose your calm; but you are right. 
 What can one expect from the Franks ? One does not find 
 hyacinths in a swamp ; but listen to — " 
 
 "I will not listen to any one, Arnaout Pasha. The 
 giaours free ! Am I to lose Hydra ! To quit the Pelo- 
 ponnesus, which I have bought with so much blood ! By 
 God, I swear I will not ! By the name of God ! " 
 
 "Highness, I beseech you to take the matter calmly. 
 We must trick the giaours, and not oppose them. If you 
 oppose them, it will be reported that you are declaring war 
 against England, France, and Russia, and then — ! " 
 
 "Pasha, you are right. Say on, my friend Arnaout." 
 
 "Promise to abstain from hostilities, but secretly do as 
 you please. How can they know what is going on in the 
 centre of the Peloponnesus ? Have they any army there ? 
 Remember what the Prophet said to Ammar, ' It is not a 
 sin when you are forced ! ' " 
 
 " You say well," Ibrahim replied, after a short silence. 
 " Now please leave me for a little repose." 
 
 Barthakas went out with satisfaction. He rejoiced that 
 the three powers were finally interfering to end this war, 
 which retained him* with Ibrahim. He gloated over the 
 thought that his dangers were nearly over, and rest and 
 tranquillity about to begin. 
 
 On the twenty-second of the month the Admiral de Rigny 
 arrived. He and Codrington together sent a second note in 
 French to Ibrahim. This he considered in silence. 
 
 On the following day Admiral Codrington received the 
 protocol from London, and de Rigny went on shore to visit 
 Ibrahim, and hold a personal interview in reference to 
 Greek affairs. 
 
 " I am in a most difficult position," the Egyptian answered, 
 gravely and quietly, Barthakas being interpreter. " I have 
 no order nor instructions in regard to this liberty which you 
 state has been signed in London in behalf of Greece. 
 Furthermore, the Ottoman officers show me such lack of 
 
502 Andronike 
 
 confidence that, I repeat, I am at a loss what to do. How- 
 ever, I thank you and yours." 
 
 The French admiral departed, without accomplishing 
 anything. 
 
 " Excellent," said Barthakas. " The admiral was sullen 
 when he left, but no matter. We are gaining time." 
 
 " However the giaours have set the giaours free," said 
 Ibrahim, compressing his lips. 
 
 " How do you know, Highness ? " 
 
 " I have letters both from Alexandria and Constantinople." 
 
 " Letters ! What does the sultan say ? " 
 
 " He is more anxious than I am. He will never submit. 
 He leaves to me the management of affairs in the Pelopon- 
 nesus, until his regular troops are ready, and he can set the 
 Franks quarrelling among themselves. He is now trying to 
 set Russia by the ears with France. The ambassador of 
 Austria, our only faithful friend, has tucked up his sleeves 
 to get them at it. Our relations with the Eussians are 
 unsatisfactory. We shall soon be at war with them." 
 
 "Our position is not all roses, Highness; but let us 
 bless the Prophet that the janissaries were destroyed 
 last year. If they were alive to-day, and heard that the 
 giaours were free, the Padishah would find himself in a 
 bad plight." 
 
 To banish his annoyance, Ibrahim soon went out to hunt. 
 
 On the morrow, that is, the twenty-fifth of September, 
 the two admirals, the Chevalier de Bigny and Sir Edward 
 Codrington, paid a visit to Ibrahim Pasha. 
 
 The Egyptian commander-in-chief was surrounded by his 
 admirals and the superior officers of his army. 
 
 After exchanging the ordinary compliments, the English 
 admiral remarked, " The purpose of our visit is to request 
 your Highness to accept an armistice between Turks and 
 Greeks until you shall receive further directions from Con- 
 stantinople." 
 
 " I have no authority to make any such agreement," Ibra- 
 him dryly replied; "on the contrary, I must execute the 
 orders of my sultan." 
 
 " And what are the orders of your sultan, may I ask ? " 
 inquired the French admiral. 
 
 " To put down the rebellion of those who have been his 
 slaves for centuries." 
 
 "Permit me to observe that the Greeks are no longer 
 
The Word of Honor 503 
 
 slaves of the sultan. The three great powers of Europe 
 have been pleased to declare them, free." 
 
 " But their rightful master, my all-powerful sultan, has 
 not yet declared them free, above all, now, when his sword 
 has scattered them and quelled their revolt. I do not 
 understand what right one foreigner has to interfere with 
 the domestic relations of another," Ibrahim replied, coldly 
 and haughtily. 
 
 " So, then, you do not accept the armistice ? " Sir Edward 
 Codrington inquired, in equally emphatic terms. 
 
 Ibrahim remained silent. His admirals and general 
 officers looked at each other. 
 
 " If you do not accept it, I have the honor to inform you 
 that you will be compelled to accept it." 
 
 " Compelled ! In what way ? " 
 
 "The three great powers will employ force, if their 
 words are not heeded," the Chevalier de Rigny added. 
 
 Ibrahim opened his eyes, came to himself, and secretly 
 exchanged a few words with his chief counsellor and his 
 other confidants. 
 
 "Give me a few more days to consider," he then said, 
 turning to the admirals. 
 
 " We have given you time enough to consider. !N"ow we 
 must have a definite, positive reply before we depart," said 
 the English admiral. 
 
 " Probably the Sublime Porte did not foresee the course 
 which affairs might take, and has not yet sent me any di- 
 rections," said Ibrahim, with absolute change of manner. 
 "Therefore, I will send despatches immediately to Con- 
 stantinople and Alexandria, and inquire what I must do. 
 Until the return of my couriers, with the replies of my two 
 illustrious masters, I promise, on my word of honor, to re- 
 frain from hostilities, and to observe a strict armistice." 
 
 " That is sufficient," said the French admiral. 
 
 " So, then, we are agreed," added Sir Edward Codrington. 
 
 "In every respect," replied Ibrahim, on whose face, pitted 
 by the small-pox, it was difficult to read his intentions. 
 
 The English admiral whispered in the ear of De Rigny, 
 " Don't you think we had better have the promise of Ibrahim 
 in writing ? " 
 
 " He will be offended if we make him any such proposi- 
 tion. And, in truth, it would be an insult to demand the 
 word of honor of a general in writing." 
 
504 Andronike 
 
 H You are right. So then, Highness, as a guarantee, your 
 fleet cannot leave Navarino until the expiration of this 
 armistice. Not only so, but whatever ships are cruising 
 round outside must come in and anchor here." 
 
 " Why is that ? How can I then communicate with my 
 army at Patras ? " 
 
 "We understand the armistice in no other way," said 
 Codrington, firmly. 
 
 " Very well," Ibrahim replied, after brief reflection. The 
 two admirals then withdrew. 
 
 " Cursed giaours ! " screamed Ibrahim, with an insulting 
 gesture, as soon as they were gone, "do you think I am 
 fool enough to obey you ? " * 
 
 A courier entered almost at the very moment with the 
 news that Lord Cochrane was making an attempt on 
 Patras. 
 
 " Lord Cochrane and General Church are marching to get 
 possession of Misolonghi. Fabvier is hurrying to rouse 
 Scio again. In Thessaly, another conflagration has burst 
 out. Hastings has burned many of my ships, and I shall 
 sit still and obey the giaours ! Kill in secret, kill just as 
 many of the giaours as you can ! Let the fleet get ready 
 for the Gulf of Misolonghi and of Patras, where my army 
 is ! " cried the Egyptian. 
 
 " Highness, if our fleet quits Navarino, it will have to fight 
 with the French and English fleet," said Arnaout Pasha. 
 
 "I do not mean to act to-day or immediately. The 
 Englishmen and Frenchmen can't remain outside Navarino 
 forever. Especially as winter is approaching they will 
 move, and we, too, in another direction." 
 
 " That is what we must do," said Tachir Pasha. 
 
 " Certainly, I will get ready at once," cried the capoudan 
 bey. 
 
 "Shall we listen to the giaours, or to our master," added 
 Moharrem Bey. " To the sails ! To the sails ! " 
 
 "Since you say, 'To the sails! 'to the sails let it be!" 
 said Arnaout Pasha, gravely. " But I warn you we shall 
 come to blows with the English. Do you know what devils 
 they are at sea ? His Highness learned about them at 
 Aboukir." 
 
 " Don't be afraid that I am so crazy as to come to blows 
 with the English or French. We are only going out from 
 Navarino, and if we meet them and they tell us to come 
 
The Word of Honor 505 
 
 back, back we come, and they and we will halve the dis- 
 grace," said Ibrahim. " Go and get ready." 
 
 " Is it not better to escape every unpleasant complication 
 by sending them notice that, inasmuch as at this very mo- 
 ment letters inform us of the attempt of Lord Cochrane, 
 and as we cannot in decency abandon utterly our army in 
 Patras, a part of our fleet must go from Navarino to its 
 support ? " 
 
 "That is just the idea! Bravo! So then, my friend 
 Arnaout, do you hurry at once to the flagship of Codring- 
 ton. I intrust the business to your ability." 
 
 Barthakas started without delay. An hour afterwards 
 he came back, gloomy and scowling. 
 
 "What now ? " asked Ibrahim. 
 
 "Highness, he absolutely refuses. The Englishman is 
 an Englishman. A workman on his ships cannot turn his 
 head after he has once told him * Kb.' He is determined, 
 he says, that not one of our boats shall go out from Nava- 
 rino. The Erench admiral happened to be on the English 
 flagship." 
 
 " Shall we let these cursed giaours lead us by the nose ? 
 We have one hundred and twenty ships here, and are we 
 afraid of seven or eight English-Erench vessels outside the 
 harbor ? " cried Tachir Pasha, springing to his feet, and 
 angrily tugging at his moustache. 
 
 "Explain more clearly. Stop, Tachir! How did Cod- 
 rington receive you ? What did he say to you ? What 
 kind of a mood was he in ? " inquired Ibrahim, quietly, 
 though he was pale with rage. 
 
 "He received me with European courtesy, but like a 
 Frank ; that is, with a false smile on his lips, with pleasant 
 and rounded words, bowing and scraping, but setting you 
 on fire behind if he can. Codrington was meek as Moses ; 
 but as soon as I began to disclose the object of my visit, 
 he became like Pharaoh. 'I do not consent/ he cried. 
 - Not a boat nor an oar can leave Navarino. I have been 
 careful to send orders to the Greeks and to Cochrane that 
 they must abstain from every act of hostility.' " 
 
 " Anything else ? " 
 
 " And that, if in an hour I do not return to his frigate to 
 tell him what we have decided upon, he and de Rigny will 
 understand that the armistice is concluded as before, and 
 that he confides in your word." 
 
506 Andronike 
 
 " In an hour ! Let him wait then ! " 
 
 "From what I was able to observe, I judge that the 
 French and English are on the point of departure," added 
 Barthakas. 
 
 " Then let us do the same/' said Moharrem Bey. " We 
 will let them start off, and pretend that, as our commander 
 has gone hunting, we were unable to find him in an hour 
 and send our reply." 
 
 "That is the best course," said Ibrahim, soberly. The 
 council then broke up. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 THE BATTLE OP N AVARINO 
 
 About sunset on that same day, after having vainly 
 waited for a reply from Ibrahim, the two admirals, under 
 the full persuasion that he would keep the armistice, weighed 
 anchor. They left only a few vessels to watch the move- 
 ments of the Mussulmans. Sir Edward Codrington sailed 
 for Ithaca, and the Chevalier de Rigny for Melos. 
 
 On the thirtieth of that month, part of the fleet of 
 Ibrahim, in two divisions, prepared to leave Navarino. The 
 first division was composed of seven frigates, nine corvettes, 
 two brigs, and fifteen transports, and was commanded by 
 Moustapha Bey. The second division, of six frigates and 
 eight brigs under Moharrem Bey and Tachir Pasha, was to 
 follow. Ibrahim, with his chief interpreter Arnaout Pasha, 
 was also on board. 
 
 The atmosphere was heavy, dark, and threatening. The 
 wind, loud and violent, prophesied a tempest. The sea, 
 lashed into mountainous foaming billows, thundered against 
 the sides of the ships. 
 
 On October first they quitted Navarino. 
 
 " I see an English frigate exchanging signals," said Tachir 
 to Ibrahim. 
 
 " Is there any other vessel in sight ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Forward ! Forward then ! They wilTlose sight of us 
 at night. Our other division has already got far ahead." 
 
The Battle of Navarino 507 
 
 The English frigate was the " Dartmouth," which Admiral 
 Codrington had left to observe the movements of Ibrahim. 
 She had already signalled to the admiral that the Egyptian 
 commander had broken his word of honor. 
 
 With great difficulty, on account of contrary winds, the 
 English admiral left Ithaca on his flagship the " Asia," of 
 eighty-four guns, followed by the " Talbot," of twenty-eight, 
 and the brig " Philomel." The " Dartmouth," of forty-four 
 guns, joined him as he encountered the divisions of Ibrahim. 
 
 The next day he wrote a letter to Moustapha Bey, who 
 was at the entrance of the Gulf of Cephalonia, and urged 
 him to return to Navarino, expressing surprise at the 
 perjury of his commander. 
 
 After some hesitation, this officer, seeing that an engage- 
 ment with the English could not otherwise be avoided, 
 reversed his helm and headed for Navarino. 
 
 u The vessels of our first division are coming back," the 
 lookout informed Ibrahim the following morning as he was 
 sitting at breakfast. 
 
 " Is n't it the English ? " 
 
 Soon afterwards a signal from Moustapha Bey answered 
 the question. 
 
 " What shall we do now ? " said Arnaout Pasha, in terror. 
 " I say once more that we must not come to blows with the 
 English. If we beat them to-day, we shall lose to-morrow. 
 They have thousands of ships. Besides there are the 
 French, the Russians ! It is best to go back." 
 
 " Is n't it a disgrace that four giaour vessels should make 
 us, with eighty vessels, turn our backs ? " said Ibrahim, 
 pulling at his beard. 
 
 " Let us wait for night. The wind will be still more 
 violent, and then we will go to Patras. But let us now 
 pretend to be returning to Navarino," said Tachir Pasha. 
 
 " Oh, you giaour Pranks ! Are you mad enough to fight 
 with us ! I say, let us try them, or at least let us show our 
 teeth to the Englishman," said Ibrahim, arrogantly. 
 
 " The question is not, Highness, about four or five such 
 vessels," Arnaout remarked, — "I know that they are only a 
 morsel for you, — but about what is beyond. If we destroy 
 them, the giaour Franks will swarm like ants to burn Con- 
 stantinople, Alexandria, Cairo ! " 
 
 " About face ! Steer for Navarino ! Cursed Englishmen ! 
 Thank Arnaout Pasha that he restrains me ! " said Ibrahim, 
 
508 Andronike 
 
 with Mussulman stateliness, and the signal was given for 
 Navarino. 
 
 About nine o'clock that night the tempest which Tachir 
 Pasha had predicted was let loose in reality. It was awful, 
 a torrent of rain, with thunder, lightning, and hurricane ; 
 the sea roared and yawned as if to devour them all. 
 
 The Turks, who the world knows are wretched sailors, 
 began to be seasick, lost their line, and finally were dispersed. 
 Some of their vessels went back to Navarino, and others 
 were driven above toward the promontory of Papas at the 
 entrance to Patras. 
 
 Codrington himself was compelled to return that night to 
 Ithaca. 
 
 The next day, about noon, after the wind had a little sub- 
 sided, the "Asia," the " Dartmouth, " the "Talbot," and the 
 " Philomel " appeared off Cape Papas before the Turkish 
 ships which were weighing anchor to go to Patras. 
 
 Codrington then began firing to compel their return to 
 Navarino. After his flagship had fired ninety-six balls and 
 the " Dartmouth " a hundred, he finally forced them to give 
 in. 
 
 Two days later Codrington entered the harbor of Miso- 
 longhi, and expelled from it several Turkish and Austrian 
 transports which were landing troops at Vasiladi. Towing 
 them as far as Cape Glarentza, he despatched them also to 
 their admiral at Navarino. 
 
 On the thirteenth of October, the Kussian admiral, Count 
 Heyden, arrived at Ithaca from the straits of Gibraltar 
 with four line- of -battle ships of seventy-four guns, the 
 "Azof," the "Hanhoute," the "Ezekiel," and the "Alex- 
 ander Nevski," with two of fifty guns, the " Constantine " 
 and the "Provonay," and with two of forty-eight guns, the 
 "Elene" and "Castor." 
 
 Up to the present Ibrahim could not believe that the great 
 powers of Europe were in earnest in threatening active 
 operations against him on behalf of the slaves of the sultan. 
 He thought that they were only negotiating. Now he saw 
 clearly that he must either be tied up in Navarino, or fight 
 with the allied English and French. He learned also 
 that the Russian fleet from the Baltic had reached Malta 
 and Ithaca, so he resolved to remain inside the harbor, 
 but on land in the Peloponnesus to satiate his thirst for 
 blood. 
 
The Battle of Navarino 509 
 
 Never did a tiger wreak fiercer havoc in a herd of cattle 
 than did he through that unhappy land. 
 
 The Peloponnesus, as we have already said, had been 
 already ruined and desolated. Its inhabitants had fled to 
 the mountains. Nothing was left in the plains save what 
 had escaped the sword and the torch. No men remained 
 there except such as had submitted and received an amnesty. 
 Against them the inhuman conqueror turned his fury. 
 Again he began to burn, to cut down, and to destroy. He 
 despatched eight thousand Arabs to Calamata and three 
 thousand to Arcadia. In Elis he had more than ten thou- 
 sand. All these devoted themselves to butchery. 
 
 What the Peloponnesus then endured is indescribable. 
 
 The English admiral was finally compelled to urge upon 
 him the withdrawal of his fleets to Alexandria and Constan- 
 tinople and the cessation of hostilities. Ibrahim, who was 
 then in the interior of the Peloponnesus, replied that he 
 was keeping the armistice ! 
 
 Such mockery could not long continue. The three 
 admirals held a council, and decided that, since to no 
 purpose they had employed mild means of restraining 
 Ibrahim, they should now use compulsion. This council 
 took place on the Russian flagship, and the plan of action 
 was decided by a French atlas. They followed this pro- 
 cedure because Count Heyden, as a rear-admiral, outranked 
 his associates, and they had at that moment no more 
 perfect chart than a French map. 
 
 Each admiral, in addition to official directions, had also 
 secret instructions. Sir Edward Codrington moreover had 
 received a letter from Stratford Canning, British ambas- 
 sador at Constantinople, wherein the ambassador distinctly 
 told him to use cannon balls, if he could accomplish 
 nothing in any other way. 
 
 Sir Edward was a sincere and earnest philhellene. He was 
 incensed with Ibrahim because of his treachery and 
 inhumanity. Although apparently his patience had no 
 limits, and he concealed his purposes in the depths of 
 his heart, he did so since he would displease, as he did 
 afterwards displease, a large body of the higher English 
 aristocracy. Nevertheless none can deny that he led the 
 van into the midst of the Mussulman ships at Navarino. 
 
 When Admiral de Rigny came to the Levant he was 
 prejudiced in favor of the Turks. After he had spent 
 
510 Andronike 
 
 some time there and become better informed, he entirely 
 changed. In Attica, on more than one occasion, he showed 
 warm sympathy with the patriots. The butcheries and per- 
 fidy of Ibrahim seemed beyond endurance, and he readily 
 agreed with the English admiral to give him a lesson. 
 
 Count Heyden had recently arrived in the Mediterranean. 
 He knew the Greek revolution only from hearsay, for there 
 was hardly a Russian philhellene in Greece. As an 
 Orthodox Christian, he hated the Ottomans just as the 
 Greeks did. As a diplomat, he desired the destruction of 
 the Turkish fleet above everything else. 
 
 On board the Mussulman flagship, they had just learned 
 that the allied fleet was moored outside. Though inferior 
 in numbers to their own, it comprised a formidable armament. 
 The Russian division included the vessels we have named. 
 The French division comprised their flagship, the " Sirene," 
 with sixty guns, the " Scipio," "Trident," and "Breslau," 
 seventy-four each, and the " Armide " and "Alcyone," forty- 
 four each. The English ships were the " Asia," eighty-four 
 guns, the " Genoa " and " Albion," of seventy-four, the 
 "Glasgow," of fifty, the " Cambrian," of forty-eight, the 
 " Dartmouth," of forty-four, the " Talbot," of twenty-eight, 
 the " Rose," of eighteen, and the " Mosquito," " Brisk," and 
 " Philomel," of ten each. On the European fleet were one 
 thousand three hundred twenty -four cannon to two thousand 
 two hundred and forty on the Turkish. 
 
 " Don't you see that they have come expressly to attack 
 us," said Tachir Pasha, to the Egyptian admiral. 
 
 " At once we must send a courier to Ibrahim for him to 
 return here. The responsibility is very great if we do 
 anything. They intend to chase us from Navarino, and 
 make us return to Alexandria and Constantinople," said 
 Arnaout Pasha. 
 
 "They can intend what they please, but who cares," 
 answered the capoudan bey. "It will be the height of 
 disgrace for us, without an order from the sultan, possess- 
 ing such an army and fleet, to leave the subjugated 
 Peloponnesus just because the giaour Franks command it. 
 Better lose everything than submit to that." 
 
 "I, gentlemen, am unable to express any different 
 opinion," said Arnaout Pasha. " By the pen of the 
 Prophet with which he wrote the Koran, we must send at 
 once to Ibrahim Pasha to return, for our affairs are very 
 
The Battle of Navarino 511 
 
 complicated. If the giaours once enter Navarino, Gabriel 
 will blow his trumpet. Besides the fact that bones will 
 be broken and flesh torn and hair pulled out by the roots, 
 war will have begun with the three great powers of the 
 world. The Empire of Osman will find it the day of 
 judgment ! Suppose for a moment that we are defeated — 
 though that is impossible, since we have a fleet three 
 times as large as theirs, and a citadel as well as the land 
 batteries to help us — yet suppose that we are defeated 
 afid our vessels burned. Then all the islands of the 
 iEgean, all the Peloponnesus and the Greek mainland, — in a 
 word, ail the Christians of Turkey, whom during seven 
 years we have been subduing at our great cost, will at once 
 again take up arms. With what ships shall we bring food for 
 our army of thirty thousand men, which we have here ; and 
 how shall we succor it ? " 
 
 " And the Prophet, why is he in heaven? " Tachir Pasha 
 interrupted the timorous Barthakas. 
 
 "The Prophet is there to illumine the mind of the 
 faithful, and keep them from folly. When he shows them 
 the truth, and they do not follow it, when from obstinacy 
 and for personal advantage they sacrifice the welfare of all 
 their people and of their religion, then surely the Prophet 
 and the Koran will deliver his own, but will cast the guilty 
 into hell and everlasting torments. l We have formed 
 man, and we have made him to see and hear/ the Koran 
 says," cried Arnaout Pasha, very earnestly, as he rose. 
 
 "So then, if the giaour Franks enter the harbor and 
 attack us, does your Excellency mean that we should sit 
 quiet with folded hands," Tachir repeated loudly. 
 
 " On the contrary ; but I mean we should be prepared, and 
 take every precaution, and avoid a conflict as far as possible. 
 When the affair is wholly forced upon us by them, then, 
 by the horses of war which rend the phalanxes of the 
 enemy, and pierce to the other side through the help of 
 the Prophet, then let us plunge into the smoke ourselves. 
 However, we must send word to Ibrahim to return. Who 
 will assume the responsibility also of reckoning with 
 Sultan Mahmoud ? " 
 
 " No one can give wiser or more opportune advice than 
 Arnaout Pasha. That is the way we must act," said 
 Moharrem Bey. " We must be ready, and we must notify 
 Ibrahim." 
 
512 Andronike 
 
 Arnaout Pasha had his quarters on the flagship of the 
 capoudan bey. He passed all that day in great dejection, 
 seeing the warlike preparations of the Turks. They 
 uncovered and charged the cannon, made the rigging and 
 anchors taut, and brought on deck a supply of powder 
 and balls. He tried to devise a way of getting on shore and 
 ending his dangerous sojourn on the flagship. He thor- 
 oughly understood the lack of discipline, the insubordi- 
 nation, and the blind impulses of the Turks. He kept 
 repeating to himself, " If but one of them fires once at the 
 Europeans, there will be a battle." He thought of Lepanto 
 and Aboukir. 
 
 The next day, the twentieth of October, the Turkish fleet 
 drew up in the form of a crescent, or rather a half ellipse. 
 One end was at the promontory of Sphacteria, while the 
 other reached the camp of Ibrahim at the entrance of the 
 harbor under the acropolis of Navarino. The fleet com- 
 prised one hundred and nineteen sail: three line-of-battle 
 ships, sixteen frigates, twenty -seven large corvettes, twenty- 
 seven brigs, forty armed transports, and six fire-ships. 
 
 The greater part of this force lay at the entrance of the 
 harbor. The smaller vessels occupied the space behind the 
 larger. The fire-ships were placed at the ends toward 
 the entrance of the harbor, so that together they might 
 converge upon any enemy at the centre of the ellipse. 
 
 About ten o'clock in the morning Arnaout Pasha went to 
 visit Moharrem Bey, the Egyptian admiral. Hardly had he 
 stepped on board the flagship and begun to talk about the 
 preparations, when they informed him that an English bark 
 was entering the mouth of the harbor and coming toward 
 their ship. 
 
 " They are Englishmen," said one of the lookouts of the 
 flagship, "and are bringing an officer." 
 
 Moharrem at once ordered that the stranger should be 
 received with all courtesy, and that most of the crew 
 should go below deck, so there should be no disturbance. 
 
 In the approaching bark was Colonel Cradock, who 
 brought a joint letter to Ibrahim Pasha from the three 
 admirals. 
 
 " His Highness, my master, is not here," replied Arnaout 
 Pasha, the chief interpreter. " None of us can open it." 
 
 " Where is he ? " the English colonel inquired. 
 
 " I do not know, I know only that he is daily expected." 
 
The Battle of Navarino 513 
 
 Colonel Cradock politely took leave, descended to his bark, 
 and returned, carrying back the sealed letter. 
 
 " What do you suppose that letter contains ? M Moharrein 
 asked Arnaout Pasha. 
 
 " Who knows ! How I wish that Ibrahim would return ! 
 I shall try to persuade him to make a satisfactory arrange- 
 ment with the English and French; for I see that 
 something is going to happen." 
 
 It was about noon. The capoudan pasha Tachir had 
 also come ; his frigate lay nearest, immediately after that 
 of Moharrem Bey. Conversation constantly turned upon 
 the letter of Colonel Cradock. 
 
 They were sitting at luncheon and had reached the fruit, 
 when all at once the report spread through the flagship that 
 the English were entering the Bay of Navarino. 
 
 " Fortune has cast the die ! " cried the capoudan bey, slap- 
 ping his thigh. "I told you that the English were not 
 joking." 
 
 " Did n't I say so too ! " cried Arnaout Pasha, rising and 
 seizing a spy-glass. 
 
 They went hastily on deck. 
 
 The flagship "Asia" in front was cleaving the sea and 
 coming toward them, closely followed by the " Genoa " and 
 the " Albion." At the same time the pinnace of the citadel 
 was seen rapidly approaching the Egyptian flagship. 
 
 "The English are ready to fight. Their matches are 
 lighted, and the gunners stand by their guns," cried Arna- 
 out Pasha, whose face wore an expression of dismay. 
 
 The pinnace arrived. Its officer reported that he had 
 been sent by the commander of the garrison to the English 
 admiral, and had stated to him that no order had come from 
 Ibrahim to allow any vessel to enter; but that Admiral 
 Codrington had angrily replied that he had not come to 
 receive orders, but to give them, and that if the Turks pre- 
 sumed to fire a single shot at him, he would destroy their 
 whole fleet. 
 
 "I see that the affair is settled. The giaours have 
 drawn their sword against Islam ! We shall fight to-night. 
 My gig, quick ! " cried the capoudan bey, rapidly descend- 
 ing the gangway to return to his own frigate, alongside of 
 which, only a pistol-shot distant, the English admiral had 
 anchored. 
 
 " We are lost ! There come the other ships ! There are 
 
 33 
 
514 Andronike 
 
 the Frenchmen and the Russians behind them. What will 
 become of us ! " cried Arnaout Pasha, in distress, mechani- 
 cally turning the spy-glass in every direction. 
 
 Moharrem Bey was at that moment entering his cabin to 
 get his sword. 
 
 " Don't be afraid, Excellency," said a familiar voice, in 
 Turkish. " When we have so many cannon, shall we be 
 afraid of the Franks ? " 
 
 That voice paralyzed Barthakas in the midst of his 
 terror. It pierced his heart like an arrow. He turned and 
 found himself opposite Kara Se'id Ali, his former groom. 
 The man towered behind him like a giant, wearing the 
 uniform of a sergeant of the regular Arab troops. 
 
 " How did you come here, Kara Se'id Ali ? " 
 
 M I was a prisoner at Hydra, and was exchanged for some 
 Greeks on this flagship. Since I am half a fish, as you 
 know, I thought I would stay here." 
 
 Meanwhile Barthakas recalled all his personal connection 
 with this man, the infernal Albanian of Psara, his treacher- 
 ous groom at Yanina, the man who prevented Lainpros re- 
 turning with the poisoned food to Misolonghi; and yet, 
 while danger was imminent, and the crew demoralized, 
 Barthakas could do nothing. On the contrary, he must 
 treat this fellow carefully, must perhaps flatter him, so as 
 to have his assistance in case of need. 
 
 " Do you like a seafaring life ? See, the French admiral 
 has anchored ! Here come the Russians too ! " 
 
 "Excellency, we shall fight ! We shall fight ! You better 
 go down into the hold ! I remember from Psara that you 
 are not a sailor." 
 
 " Ah, my good Kara Se'id Ali ! If I only could get to 
 land ! It was a crime to come here and not to stay in the 
 camp on shore ! " 
 
 At that moment Moharrem Bey came out from his cabin. 
 " Excellency, please take charge of the larboard batteries. 
 I shall command the others. Every one must do his duty 
 to-day. I am well acquainted with your ability from the 
 battle of Cleisova, and with your valor on the deck of the 
 fire-ship of Canaris. I could enjoy no more valuable aide." 
 
 " At your orders," Barthakas murmured in consternation. 
 
 Kara Se'id Ali stared at the Egyptian admiral and at 
 Barthakas. He could not believe that Moharrem Bey 
 really intrusted him with such responsibilities. 
 
The Battle of Navarino 515 
 
 Within half an hour the three allied fleets had taken 
 position as follows : — 
 
 The English flagship was anchored alongside, between 
 the ships of Moharreru Bey and the capoudan bey. The 
 " Genoa" and "Albion" were near another line-of-battle 
 ship and a two-decker. 
 
 The four ships on the right of the Egyptian fleet were 
 left to the French, and those under the acropolis of Nava- 
 rino to the Russians. 
 
 The French flagship was only a pistol-shot from the 
 "Ezanieh," a great Egyptian frigate of sixty-four guns, 
 commanded by Hassan Bey. 
 
 The French frigate " Armide " was stationed length- 
 wise, about a mile and a half distant from the frigate, 
 at the entrance of the harbor, which was supported by 
 the two batteries on the Island of Sphacteria. Behind the 
 " Armide " were the " Cambrian," the " Glasgow," and the 
 " Talbot." 
 
 The "Dartmouth," the "Mosquito," the "Rose," the 
 " Brisk," and the " Philomel " watched the six Mussulman 
 fire-ships. 
 
 Arnaout Pasha had gone with his glass to the poop 
 of the Egyptian frigate. There too was the station of 
 Kara Seid Ali. 
 
 "The English flagship is anchored just between our 
 vessel and that of the capoudan bey," he remarked, after 
 a little. " The English are moored quietly, and their crews 
 are not drawn up. They do not intend to fight, and things 
 seem more peaceful." 
 
 " Have you heard, Excellency, what Codrington said on 
 entering the harbor ? He declared that if we fired at him, 
 he would blow us up. Now do you suppose that so many 
 fool Turks on so many ships will tolerate such insolence 
 from a giaour, and that they will not fire twenty balls 
 instead of one?" 
 
 " No, as I hope in the Prophet ! If we begin to fight, my 
 Kara Seid Ali, with those three devils, they will fall upon 
 us like the awful birds of Azram ! Only let it not happen 
 to-day, for to-morrow will take care of itself. I am going 
 this evening to Pyrgos, where Ibrahim is, and he has got 
 to come here to arrange matters. What can I say? On 
 dry land I am not so afraid \ but here in the bullets and 
 billows ! You know that I can't swim." 
 
516 Andronike 
 
 "I am here at your service, Excellency," said the 
 Albanian, with a contemptuous smile. 
 
 " I thank you, my faithful Kara Seitd Ali." 
 
 The Albanian twirled his moustache, and gave Barthakas 
 a sidelong glance. Familiar with his deeds, he was fully 
 convinced, that if things became quiet, this shaking dwarf 
 would turn upon him mercilessly. 
 
 In fact, Arnaout Pasha, as affairs outside grew less 
 threatening, said to himself that of all those acquainted 
 with his past life this man was the only survivor. Thirst 
 for revenge awoke as he recalled how Kara Seid Ali had 
 treated him. 
 
 His manner toward him became less friendly and some- 
 what stern. 
 
 Again, turning his glance on the " Asia," he saw that the 
 shin's band had collected on deck as if about to play. 
 
 " Nothing will happen," he remarked to Moharrem Bey. 
 " Those men had no bad purpose in coming." 
 
 " No, I observe the same thing," he replied. " They 
 were only prepared like ourselves for what might happen. 
 They are making no further preparations, but are even 
 putting their fires out." 
 
 Arnaout Pasha, on leaving the poop and returning to his 
 place, said in a low tone to Kara Seid Ali, " Do you remem- 
 ber your crimes and treason to me ? The Prophet has at 
 last thrown you into my hands." 
 
 " Already," said the Albanian to himself, without utter- 
 ing a word in reply. 
 
 Barthakas had not yet reached Moharrem Bey, when gun- 
 shots were heard, and a few minutes afterwards a first, a 
 second, and then a third cannon-shot. 
 
 The battle had begun in the following manner. Several 
 boats had been sent from the frigate "Dartmouth," request- 
 ing the Turkish fire-ships to withdraw a little from the 
 allied fleet. Either because the Turks supposed that the 
 English intended to destroy or seize the fire-ships, or because 
 for two days they had been enraged and ready to fight, they 
 fired on one of the boats, and killed Fitzroy, the officer in 
 command, as well as a few sailors. 
 
 The " Dartmouth " and the " Sirene " at once began to 
 skirmish in support of the boats. The Turks did not like 
 it, but commenced a cannonade. 
 
 The French admiral then shouted through a sea-trumpet 
 
The Battle of Navarino 517 
 
 to Hassan Bey, on the " Ezauieh," that, if he was not fired at, 
 he would not fire at him. Hardly had he finished, when 
 two balls from that frigate fell on the deck of the " Sirene," 
 and killed two sailors. 
 
 Balls from every direction were already rending the 
 horizon of Navarino. In its thick folds, the smoke envel- 
 oped and buried the ships, and the surface of the bay. 
 Only the instantaneous flashes of the cannonade and the 
 remembered position of the fleets told which was enemy 
 and which was friend. 
 
 Moharrem Bey and Barthakas were trembling, and by 
 their cowardly example discouraged the rest. 
 
 "We must send a boat to the English admiral not to 
 fire on us, and we will not fire on him/' said Moharrem 
 Bey. 
 
 " Yes ! Yes ! Let us send ! " replied Barthakas, who 
 could hardly stand on his feet. 
 
 A boat, manned by the bravest sailors of the flagship, 
 was sent for the aforesaid purpose to the "Asia." 
 
 " Excellency, why do we sit down here with folded hands, 
 while thousands of people are being blown up and killed ? 
 Have we got the English admiral in front of us only to 
 look at him ? " 
 
 " Wa-it, Ka-ra S-e-id A-l-i ! N-o-w we w-ill be-g-in. Take 
 my w-a-t-c-h and st-ay c-l-ose t-t-o me. I-i-f y-ou s-s-ave me, 
 I w-ill m-m-a-ke y-y-ou c-c-c-ap-t-t-a-in of a-a f-f-r-r-i-gate." 
 
 The rapacious Albanian took the watch, and put it in his 
 pocket without reply. The confusion, the crash, the roar, 
 the smoke, the whistling of the balls, the agonizing screams 
 of the wounded and the dying, filled his mind, and he did 
 not even turn his head to look at Barthakas. 
 
 A skiff from the English admiral, commanded by Lieu- 
 tenant Dilk, on which was also Peter Michael, boatswain 
 of the " Asia," was bringing an answer. " His purpose," he 
 said, "was to avoid bloodshed, and he would not fire on 
 Moharrem Bey unless Moharrem Bey fired on him." The 
 skiff was directly under the Egyptian flagship, when Kara 
 Se'id Ali shouted, " Giaours ! Giaours ! Franks ! " and 
 aimed his gun at them. 
 
 " Stop ! Stop, Kara Se'id Ali ! " screamed Barthakas, 
 struggling to seize his arm ; but Kara Se'id Ali shoved him 
 aside, instantly fired and killed the boatswain, Peter 
 Michael. 
 
518 Andronike 
 
 " Back ! Back ! " ordered Lieutenant Dilk. The strokes 
 of its rowers bore it out of danger. 
 
 The bullets were already falling like hail upon the deck 
 of the Egyptian flagship, which began an awkward and dis- 
 orderly cannonade. Then the " Asia " opened its thunder- 
 bolts upon it. 
 
 " You cursed Kara Se'id Ali ! What have you done ? " 
 
 " Keep still ! Here ! Here ! Don't run away, boys ! 
 Shame on you ! " shrieked the Albanian, at the fleeing 
 Arabs. 
 
 The surface of the harbor was covered by floating bodies 
 of the dead and the swimming, and by the burning, flaming 
 timbers, as if craters had all at once burst forth in the tor- 
 mented sea. Balls touched the face of the water, then re- 
 bounded twice or thrice, and fell on the decks of the ships, 
 or on the boats of the escaping, and destroyed them. The 
 mountains along the shore shook and resounded under the 
 incessant discharge. Gradually the smoke became more 
 dense, and, settling upon the water, confused the nearest 
 objects as in a mist. Yet burning masses were continually 
 whirling like fiery meteors from heaven. 
 
 The October sun could not penetrate that smoke, nor re- 
 veal that awful overthrow of the Mussulmans by which 
 divine Providence expiated Misolonghi and the blood of the 
 Peloponnesus. The shades of countless butchered Greeks 
 might well have gazed in joy from their nameless graves. 
 
 In a few minutes the hull of the Egyptian flagship was 
 pierced by a hundred balls. Its cables and rigging were 
 cut through, and the mast began to totter. Then all that 
 remained of the crew threw themselves into boats or into 
 the sea. Moharrem Bey, who had been severely wounded, 
 abandoned the ship and fled. Confusion reigned supreme. 
 Its two or three broadsides, irregular and aimless, resembled 
 the last breath of the dying. 
 
 The rumor spread that Moharrem Bey was slain. When 
 Arnaout Pasha heard it, he left his position, and tried to 
 run away. At first he wanted to go down into the hold. 
 Instantly recognizing the danger there, he ran to spring 
 into the boats, as most of the rest were doing. 
 
 " Stop ! Stop ! " said the Albanian, grasping him by the 
 shoulder. 
 
 "Pity me, Kara Seid Ali! Save me, and see how gener- 
 ous lam!" 
 
The Battle of Navarino 519 
 
 " All those boats will be upset. We shall have a better 
 chance of reaching the land by swimming," said the fierce 
 Albanian. 
 
 " Support me, Kara Seid Ali ! My dear, dear friend ! 
 Most High God ! I am dying ! Forgive my sins ! " 
 His teeth rattled against each other. 
 
 " Don't act like this ! If death finds you, it will find you. 
 Hush ! you make me timid myself." 
 
 The explosions of Mussulman vessels became more fre- 
 quent, and the roar more appalling. Many captains, sup- 
 posing that if the allies did not blow up their ships they 
 would plunder them, set them on fire, and abandoned them. 
 
 Finally the flames seemed to assert their mastery over 
 the smoke, and dyed the heavens red. 
 
 Kara Seid Ali stood in the midst of death, not knowing 
 what to do. He looked around and saw that they who fell 
 into the sea or the boats had less chance of safety in the 
 general confusion and slaughter than those who remained 
 on deck. The hulk of the flagship had floated toward land. 
 He turned his eyes toward the maintop, and reckoned it the 
 safest place, since the balls of the Europeans fell horizon- 
 tally upon the hull. Many others of the sailors were 
 already there. 
 
 The laments, the prayers and promises of Arnaout Pasha, 
 who was clinging to his neck, drew his attention. In ex- 
 tremity of danger former passions are forgotten. He 
 clasped him under his right arm, and, with the other grasp- 
 ing the ropes of a side ladder, in a few moments bore him 
 aloft. The bullets rarely whistled there. The allies did 
 not fire at the sailors clinging to the rigging. Their only 
 purpose was to destroy their ships. 
 
 " How bad this is ! " said the Albanian. " Since I was a 
 small boy, I have been at war ; but I never saw anything 
 like this. I am deaf and blind ! " He rubbed his eyes and 
 ears, all the time keeping a firm hold on a rope of the shak- 
 ing, creaking mast. 
 
 " my God, save me ! God, I am a sinner ! If you 
 save me, Kara Sei'd Ali, I will give you all my money, 
 and will become a hermit in the desert ! My life has been 
 very wicked ! " wailed Barthakas, clinging convulsively with 
 both hands to the rope. 
 
 " Who will live ? None of us will live ! Look ! The 
 hold has caught fire ! " 
 
520 Andronike 
 
 " Fire ! Fire ! " the sailors on deck had begun to shout 
 and those, too, on the masts and ropes joined the cry. 
 
 "What shall we do, my Kara Seid Ali ? " 
 
 Arnaout Pasha had not finished his sentence when the 
 foremast fell into the sea with a terrific crash, smashing 
 in all the starboard-side of the ship. It fell, carried away 
 by several balls at once. 
 
 " It is all over ! Look ! Now, we, too, shall be hurled 
 down ! " 
 
 "There is no chance for us now except to jump into the 
 water," muttered the Albanian, tearing off his cloak, turban, 
 breeches, and arms. 
 
 "From such a horrible height as this! " said Barthakas; 
 but with chattering teeth he began to strip. 
 
 The Arabs on the mast were watching the progress of the 
 fire. They knew that when the powder magazine exploded, 
 the great ship would leap into the air. They, too, throwing 
 off their clothes, and repeating passages from the Koran, 
 prepared to leap. 
 
 An aged dervish was in front with hands folded on his 
 breast. " I see you, sweet fountains of paradise ! " he cried. 
 " I see you, celestial companies of Gabriel, Ali, Phatima, 
 and Michail ! You are coming to open the doors of the true 
 kingdom. Hope not for such blessedness, you children of 
 Satan, you lying apostates of the true God! Hell shall 
 swallow you quick ! " He sprang forward, his arms still 
 crossed, after urging the rest to follow. 
 
 The entrails of the ship, like a volcano, already emitted 
 horrible heat and the blackest smoke. The deck, pierced here 
 and there, was an enormous crater, below which gleamed 
 masses of red coals which in the imminent explosion were 
 to cover the horizon with fiery hail. Whoever lingered a 
 moment longer on the masts had not the least hope of safety. 
 
 The Arabs, praying fervently, jumped off. A few were 
 saved, but most were dashed to destruction. "This is 
 hell ! " yelled the Albanian. 
 
 " For God's sake don't leave me ! I beseech you, Kara 
 Seid Ali ! " 
 
 The Albanian in those indescribable moments thought 
 only of himself. Stripped, he was ready and poised for the 
 spring, not a rag on him except his girdle and his silver 
 powder-flask with its leathern strap. In his stupor he for- 
 got them. 
 
The Battle of Navarino 521 
 
 Seeing that he intended to abandon him, Barthakas 
 twisted his arms tightly around him, and held on with des- 
 peration, like the pygmy which climbed on the back of the 
 Old Man of the Sea and stuck as if glued to him days and 
 nights without his being able to shake him off. 
 
 " Stop ! Let go my hands, you dog ! How can I swim ! 
 I will not leave you ! Let go my hands ! Grasp me by the 
 neck." 
 
 Despite his gigantic strength, he tried in vain to free 
 himself. Two or three times, threatening and blaspheming, 
 he shook himself upon the tottering mast. Despair had con- 
 verted the arms of Barthakas into bands of steel. 
 
 " After we are in the water, I will let you go. Save me, 
 and you shall see ! " 
 
 Danger grew nigher. The last hour of the hulk had 
 struck. One moment more and the flames would reach them, 
 and the smoke hide from them what was sea and what was 
 deck. 
 
 " Get up a little higher on my shoulder s," said the Alba- 
 nian, after one more effort had shown him it was impossible 
 to rid himself of his burden. 
 
 By degrees Barthakas left the arms of Kara Se'id Ali free, 
 and clung tightly to his neck. He closed his eyes, crossed 
 his feet in front, and earnestly entreated the mercy of the 
 Most High. 
 
 The Albanian as warmly besought the Prophet to deliver 
 him from Abou Halem, the father of flames. He poised 
 once, twice, and the third time, while the hull of the ship 
 inclined toward the water, leaped toward the sea. 
 
 The voice of Arnaout Pasha gave one shuddering gasp 
 and then was silent forever. The wretch had been plunged 
 down into the crater of the flagship. 
 
 Kara Se'id Ali remained in the air like a flag attached to 
 one of the ropes. His silver flask, at the moment he let go, 
 had caught like a hook in one of the ropes. In his leap the 
 rope relaxed like the cord of a bow and at once drew back. 
 So then it shot Barthakas from the back of his deliverer 
 down toward the hold, and held the Albanian in the air. 
 
 Kara Se'id Ali gripped the rope with both his hands, and 
 began to descend toward the yard so as to jump once more. 
 That very instant the flames caught the magazine and the 
 flagship was rent to fragments. 
 
 Kara Se'id Ali, terribly burned, was shot to a great distance 
 
522 Andronike 
 
 over the surface of the sea. There, a French boat picked 
 him up and carried him to the ship's hospital. His two 
 legs and one arm were broken. 
 
 About five o'clock that afternoon the fire of the allies 
 ceased. Soon the smoke began to lift and the horizon 
 to become visible. Everywhere hulls were seen burning. 
 The history of sea-fights has no more pitiable spectacle 
 to offer. Neither the destruction of the Turkish fleet by 
 Don Juan at Lepanto, nor that at Tchesmeh by Elphinstone 
 could be placed in comparison. Out of one hundred and 
 nineteen Turkish vessels, riding proudly before the battle, 
 only twenty-nine were left ! 
 
 The pride of the sultan and the obstinacy of Ibrahim 
 were not broken by this battle, fatal to their cause. Peace 
 and independence did not come at once, but both were only 
 a question of time. From the ruins of Homeric Pylos and 
 the heights of Ithome, the shades of all the Greeks who have 
 lived upon them since the days of Nestor may well bless the 
 names of Sir Edward Codrington, the Chevalier de Rigny, 
 and Count Heyden. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 THE BEYOND 
 
 On the morning of September 26, 1832, the holy city 
 Moscow was full of animation and excitement. The 
 thirteen hundred bells of its two hundred and fifty churches 
 rang incessantly. The mighty clangor of their monotonous 
 music was well nigh deafening to one unaccustomed to 
 such sounds. The Czar Colossal, the king of bells, the 
 largest in the world, its sixty-five tons of metal forged from 
 the fragments of its vaster predecessor, broken in 1737, like 
 a majestic organ drowned all the rest with its far-reaching 
 and thunderous tones. To the roar were added frequent 
 salutes from the fortifications and from the acropolis of the 
 Kremlin. When the Kremlin speaks, all the voiceful 
 history of this stupendous Empire of Orthodoxy sounds 
 from its tombs of ancient czars and patriarchs. The 
 empress, the revered protectress of monasteries and monks, 
 was coming humbly to pay her homage before the famous, 
 
The Beyond 523 
 
 wonder-working Icon of the Mother of God, the Ivcrskaya 
 Bospia Mater, object of the veneration and pious pilgrimage 
 of the devout throughout that empire. 
 
 Almost the entire population of the capital was crowded 
 before the gate, beyond which one reaches the famous 
 Church of the Panaghia of Iveron. The empress was coming 
 on foot to worship before the icon, attended by high officers 
 of the imperial house, and by young women of her suite, all 
 attired in utmost simplicity. Passing between two lines of 
 her rejoicing and applauding subjects, she entered the 
 sanctuary, bent her knee, made many times the sign of the 
 cross, and advanced toward the sacred icon. Bands of taper- 
 bearing and white-robed youths and maidens surrounded 
 her, chanting, "Lord, keep the Empress." The maidens 
 were nuns of the Donski Monastery, the largest in Russia. 
 
 The icon was discovered in Georgia, and first carried 
 to Mount Athos. The Czar, Alexis Michailovitch, heard 
 of its wonder-working power and removed it to his capital. 
 It is covered with gold and precious stones. Its color is 
 deep chestnut. The halo about the head is a braid of 
 heavy pearls. The diadem is of precious diamonds. The 
 shoulders are of rare stones, so too the eyebrows and the 
 hand that supports the feet of the infant Saviour. Around 
 it are golden angels, votive offerings, and thirteen ever- 
 burning lamps. Before it come reverently the sick, the 
 peasant, the happy, the miserable, the rich, the pauper, and 
 the emperor himself. It is carried with pomp wherever 
 danger or necessity demand its presence. 
 
 The empress kissed the icon many times, and bowed in 
 worship. Her suite did the same. Then she took her seat 
 upon the throne, and listened piously to the liturgy and the 
 hymns of the Donski Vestals. 
 
 Her eyes frequently wandered toward the crowded nuns, 
 as if she were seeking in their ranks some one whom she 
 did not see, whose familiar voice she did not hear. 
 
 Soon the liturgy ended. Then approaching the abbess, 
 she said to her simply, " I do not see my girl here. I am 
 afraid she is suffering more to-day." 
 
 "She is at her last stage, your Majesty. The chief 
 physician is of the opinion that only a few days, perhaps a 
 few hours, are left her," the abbess answered sadly. 
 
 "Is it possible! It makes me sad. I always thought 
 that medical skill might lengthen her life." 
 
524 Andronike 
 
 "She has so changed that your Majesty would not 
 recognize her. Her black eyes still give a lifelike look to 
 her face ; but, when she closes them to sleep, she looks 
 like a lifeless image." 
 
 " Does she know her condition ? " 
 
 " She does, and she is waiting like a Christian for her 
 repose. She wants some one to read to her all the time 
 from the church books." 
 
 " My poor girl ! " the empress repeated with emotion. 
 
 She remained some time in thought, and then added, " I 
 want to see her, though I know well it will afflict me. I 
 want to give her some news which I am sure will cause her 
 the greatest joy. Greece has been proclaimed a kingdom, and 
 the young Otho, son of King Louis of Bavaria, has been 
 proclaimed king." 
 
 "Such news, Majesty, will give her the greatest joy 
 which she has ever felt ! " 
 
 The empress entered her carriage with the abbess, and 
 drove to the women's quarter of the Donski Monastery. 
 
 The young nun of whom they had spoken, it will be 
 easy for the reader to understand, was our loved 
 Andronike. 
 
 After fleeing from cave to cave and mountain to mountain, 
 escaping that death which the soldiers of Ibrahim were deal- 
 ing to all who came into their power, she went to the tower of 
 her father, after the battle of Navarino, when things were 
 somewhat quieter, and obtained whatever valuables she 
 had. She munificently rewarded her faithful Lampros, 
 and then set out for Moscow to assume the black robe of a 
 nun. Lampros was unwilling to part from her until he 
 saw her safe on Russian soil. He accompanied her there- 
 fore on her ship as far as Odessa, and there, with unspeakable 
 sorrow, bade her farewell. 
 
 Her afflictions and hardships had seriously undermined 
 her health. The death of Thrasyboulos was the last, 
 severest blow which fell upon her. In her enfeebled state, 
 the insidious disease of consumption struck its roots still 
 deeper. When she reached Moscow, her cheeks retained 
 nothing of that rose color which characterized her youth. 
 The splendid gifts which she offered the Donski Monastery, 
 the pathetic story of her sufferings through eight years, 
 and the nobility of her character won the affection not 
 only of all the nuns, but of the empress herself. Yearly 
 
The Beyond 525 
 
 something vanished from her resemblance to the An'dronike 
 of 1821. Hardly the shadow of her former self remained. 
 She became slender, silent, pale, and timorous. 
 
 In 1832 the empress, on her return to Saint Petersburg, 
 sent her chief physician to visit her regularly, and had 
 strong hopes that he would save the life withered so 
 untimely. It was in vain. The band of angels who were 
 to bear her from this transitory life had been already 
 appointed from heaven to hover about her head. 
 
 Her chamber was a small room, simply furnished and 
 scrupulously clean. From an iron frame above her bed 
 curtains of yellow damask hung down to the floor. Above 
 her pillow was suspended an icon of the Holy Mother, 
 entwined with palms. The Bible lay upon the table. 
 The other furniture of her monastic chamber comprised a 
 few chairs, a sofa, and a great cross directly opposite the 
 bed. Near her sat a nun of twenty-five, who was devotedly 
 attached to Andronike, and was reluctant to leave her alone 
 a minute. She read to her, and watched over her like her own 
 sister. The long-suffering girl lay in bed under a white 
 coverlet. Her once fair face, sunken in the downy pillow, 
 appeared paler than ever, but emaciated, dry, and already 
 touched by the ashen hue of death. Her black hair was 
 almost hidden entirely in a white veil. Her arms lay out- 
 side the coverlet, and on her right hand always glistened the 
 betrothal ring of Thrasyboulos. 
 
 Pensive, silent, with tearful eyes, she was listening to 
 the sister's reading, when the empress arrived in the 
 adjoining chamber. 
 
 The abbess entered first to inform her. The invalid tried 
 to rise ; but the empress, who had waited only a moment, 
 prevented her, and took her two hands in both of hers. 
 
 " How are you, my dear girl ? Are you better ? " she 
 asked in a tremulous voice, for the face of the sick girl, 
 worn by pain, had made a vivid impression on her guest. 
 
 " No, your Majesty. My strength is failing every hour. 
 Death is growing nearer," she answered, with difficulty, but 
 with perfect calmness. 
 
 "Don't say so, my darling girl; you are pale and 
 exhausted, but you are young, and nature itself will help 
 you conquer your persistent disease." 
 
 " I never shall regain my health, Majesty. Only a few 
 more days of this life are left me. I am not afraid of 
 
526 Andronike 
 
 death. I am waiting for it calmly, as every Christian 
 must who knows that he is passing to another life, more 
 real and eternal." 
 
 The empress stooped and kissed her forehead, then 
 gently added that Greece had been proclaimed an inde- 
 pendent kingdom and that Otho had been declared her 
 king. 
 
 "I thank thee, Almighty! I thank thee, Panaghia! 
 Greece a kingdom ! Greece alive again ! Whoever could 
 believe that those relics of Misolonghi, Scio, Psara, would 
 to-day become a kingdom ! Such a reward outweighs 
 everything we have undergone. What beautiful and 
 stupendous works Almighty God can build in a moment ! " 
 Clasping her hands, Andronike shed tears of joy. 
 
 "I am afraid this news has done her more harm than 
 good," whispered the empress in the ear of the abbess. 
 
 " I do not think so, Majesty. You have poured 
 consolation into her afflicted breast.' ' 
 
 The empress remained some time in the chamber of the 
 young Greek. Her own heart was heavy and sad. Then 
 she kissed her a second time, and went out, to let her own 
 tears have way. 
 
 Andronike in silence gave herself up to sweet thoughts 
 and afterwards to refreshing sleep. 
 
 When she awoke a hectic flush shone on her face. The 
 yellow tinge had disappeared from her hollow eyes. Her 
 muscles had regained some elasticity and strength. Her 
 lips, though still pale and parched, found breath and words. 
 She repeated often that, finding herself so much better, she 
 wanted to get up. It was already evening and a lamp was 
 brought in. With the sister who cared for her so tenderly 
 she conversed about the affairs of Greece. 
 
 " My Greece a kingdom ! Give me, give me a bit of blue 
 ribbon to tie my hair. I can't celebrate this glorious news 
 any other way," said Andronike. 
 
 Satisfying her wishes, the kindly nun braided blue 
 ribbons and flowers in her long neglected hair. 
 
 At that moment two or three other nuns entered to ask 
 how she was, and were astounded at seeing her so bedecked 
 and sitting upon the bed. They began to talk about the 
 pious empress, and about that day's liturgy. Andronike 
 spoke rapidly, in clear, fluent tones, until the other nuns 
 many times begged her not to tax her strength. 
 
The Beyond 527 
 
 "If I am as well as this to-morrow, I shall get up and 
 go to the church to worship and give thanks to the 
 Panaghia. Then I shall take a walk in the garden," she 
 added. 
 
 As she uttered these words, she was seized by a hard and 
 violent cough. There was a sudden fluttering in her 
 breast. She opened her arms as if to embrace some one, and 
 instantly fell back peacefully upon her pillow, never to 
 wake again. The transient color of a few minutes before 
 faded from her cheeks, her lips grew whiter, her eyes 
 closed, and the repellent, solemn shadow of death in a few 
 seconds veiled all that earthly beauty which had been by 
 turns the enemy and the friend of her checkered life. 
 Inevitable fate! Nothing remained on the dead counte- 
 nance of our beloved friend except the virtue and dignity 
 of her character. 
 
 Not for some minutes did the nuns realize that their 
 sister had passed quietly away and without pain. Then, 
 weeping bitterly, they called for the abbess, and threw 
 themselves upon their knees, praying earnestly for the 
 repose of their sister's soul. 
 
 That night for many hours the nuns of the Donski 
 Monastery prayed for that soul which, after having 
 passed through a world of vicissitudes, snares, and dangers, 
 now pure and spotless, was already soaring with the angels 
 to that eternal kingdom where the patriarch Gregory, her 
 father and her lover, were waiting for her. 
 
 The aged armatolos Lampros survived until 1840. He 
 lived at Nauplia. Long after his death many well 
 remembered how he used to frequent the well known 
 cafe of Pasclavanos, and narrate the varied events of his 
 life, and extol the beauty and virtues of his mistress. 
 
 In like manner, until 1845, in one of the small squares of 
 Smyrna, the stranger might see an Albanian with mutilated 
 hands and feet who was always descanting on the pro- 
 digious experiences of the Greek struggle and the tragic 
 death of Barthakas. This was Kara Seid Ali, himself a 
 wreck from the battle of Navarino. 
 
CONSTANTINOPLE. 
 
 BY 
 
 EDWIN A. GROSVENOR, 
 
 Professor of European History at Amherst College; formerly Professor of 
 
 History at Robert College, Constantinople ; Member of the Hellenic 
 
 Philclogic Syllogos of Constantinople ; of the Society of 
 
 Mediexial Researches, Constantinople ; of the 
 
 Syllogos Parnassos of Athens, Greece. 
 
 OTttij an Jnttotmctfon 
 
 BY 
 
 GENERAL LEW. WALLACE. 
 
 Embellished with Two Hundred and Fifty Illustrations 
 
 of Important Places, Rulers, and Noted People 
 
 of Ancient Constantinople. 
 
 2 vols. Royal 8vo. Cloth. Gilt top. Price, $10.00; half morocco, $14.00. 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 3 Somerset Street, Boston, Ma.ss» 
 
 S. LOW, MARSTON & CO., Ltd., St Dunstan's House, 
 Fetter Lane, London, England. 
 
SELECTED REVIEWS FROM THE AMERICAN PRESS. 
 
 It can be said with all due regard for previous efforts of our scholars that this is one 
 of the most valuable works in European history yet written by an American. — Boston 
 Journal. 
 
 It is a work to delight the traveller ready to " plunge soul foremost " into the 
 romance and color and fascination of the ancient Byzantine capital. Mr. Grosvenor 
 has achieved the difficult to a most charming extent. — Boston Transcript. 
 
 This latest work on Constantinople is, in short, one which not only the student but 
 also the man of affairs will find of the most intense interest, and which will give the 
 reader a clear and vivid idea of the historic city which is the centre of the world's inter- 
 est to-day. Author and publisher are alike to be congratulated on this splendid work. 
 Boston Advertiser. 
 
 Stored with the spoils of rich and varied learning, written in a manner dignified yet 
 simple, graceful, and winning, and illustrated with a lavishness and beauty almost 
 unparalleled. — Beacon, Boston. 
 
 An important and valuable work on this famous city. — Churchman, Boston. 
 
 The work occupies a field in which it has no rival, and is an honor to scholarship 
 and publishing enterprise. — Watchman, Boston. 
 
 This is the greatest work of the year. A masterpiece from the Professor of Euro- 
 pean History at Amherst, the most broad-gauge specialist in America. — Journal of 
 Education, Boston. 
 
 In thi3 work, which merits the epithet superb, we have a new treatise on Constanti- 
 nople worthy of the name. It is comprehensive, sufficiently complete, and altogether 
 scholarly, and possesses interest alike for the historian, the archaeologist, and the 
 general reader. — Literary World, Boston. 
 
 Never has any work on Constantinople appeared that can begin to compare with 
 this. — Home Journal, Boston. 
 
 Professor Grosvenor illuminates his text. — Atlantic Monthly. 
 
 These two elegant volumes will yield all the interest of an Eastern romance. — 
 Congregationalist. 
 
 He has laid the public under contribution by the extent of his researches, the care- 
 fulness of his work, and the fine literary quality which marks these volumes. — Mission- 
 ary Herald. 
 
 The chief point in such a book is its accuracy, and here the reader may rest assured 
 he can trust to his guide implicitly. . . . The author's style is vivid and intensely inter- 
 esting. No one who carefully goes through the two volumes will fail to join in General 
 Lew. Wallace's cordial words in his introduction: "The reader, whether student or 
 traveller, will thank Professor Grosvenor for his book." — New York Times. 
 
 In the ample pages of these volumes Professor Grosvenor has presented the first 
 adequate study of the great capital of the Eastern Empire known to the English lan- 
 guage. . . . The text is accompanied by a wealth of illustration, in which almost every 
 curiosity of Constantinople, antique or otherwise, finds a place. — New York Tribune. 
 
 A panoramic view of Constantinople in all the epochs of its existence. ... It is not 
 merely that Professor Grosvenor has been able tof draw on all the accumulated infor- 
 mation of all interested in the antiquities of Constantinople ; he appears to have visited 
 
 2 
 
every church, every mosque, every ciotern, and to have explored every region of the 
 city for remains of ancient Constantinople or Byzantium, and he has made discoveries 
 and formed opinions of his own which constitute an original contribution. . . . This 
 work is by far the most satisfactory of Constantinople that has yet appeared in Englk-h. 
 Nation. 
 
 In such a work as this, however vivid the picturing or broad the survey, the essen- 
 tial feature is its accuracy. Professor Grosvenor has succeeded to a degree that will 
 make hi3 book authority. — Independent. 
 
 A description at once full, accurate, and readable. — Critic. 
 
 What the Commendatore Lanciani has in part done for Rome, Professor Grosvenor 
 has wrought for the other capital of the Empire. — Bookman. 
 
 A work which will be accounted one of the glories of American scholarship. — 
 American Hebrew. 
 
 Most comprehensive account of Constantinople ever attempted. — Outlook. 
 
 An elegant and timely volume. — New York Observer. 
 
 A monument of scholarly, conscientious work. To Constantinople Professor Gros- 
 venor's book is all that Hawthorne's " Marble Faun " is to Rome. — Christian World, 
 New York. 
 
 A very important work. —Mail and Express. 
 
 Notable and very timely. — Town Topics, New York. 
 
 Interesting, in many respects unique. — Every Month, New York. 
 
 Clear and attractive. — Review of Reviews. 
 
 Admirably written. — New York Sun. 
 
 A work that will last for many, many years. — New York Herald. 
 
 Mr. Grosvenor dowers the reader with his own entranced interest. — American His- 
 torical Review. 
 
 Comprehensive scholarship with a most happy method of imparting information. — 
 Christmas Bookshelf, New York. 
 
 No more timely and important book has appeared this season. — Observer. 
 
 The book is a monument of scholarly, conscientious work, and should have a place 
 in every well-equipped library the country through. — Christian Work, New York. 
 
 Warmly commends, without hesitation or mental reservation, these two delightfully 
 written, handsomely printed, and elegantly illustrated volumes, so creditable to their 
 author and publisher. — Home Journal, New York. 
 
 Clear, direct, dramatic, absolutely thrilling. — Brooklyn Standard Union. 
 
 A scholarly work by one who has had wide experience. — Star, Washington, D. C. 
 
 A mass of lore blended with consummate skill. — News, Galveston, Texas. 
 
 No other book in existence that even approximately fills the place which Professor 
 Grosvenor's great work is designed to occupy. — Christian Advocate, Nashville, Tenn. 
 
 Will equally delight the student, the seeker after information as to the present situa- 
 tion in Turkey, and the general reader. — Commerifial Gazette, Cincinnati. 
 
 One of the few books written to meet a general want and nobly fulfilling their pur- 
 pose. — Cleveland World. 
 
 Description of the city as it is has been the author's chief aim, and he has plainly 
 surpassed all his predecessors. — The New World. 
 
 The most important treatise on Constantinople that has yet appeared. — Z ion's 
 Advocate, Portland, Maine. 
 
 We cannot thank Professor Grosvenor too heartily for his work. — Providence 
 Journal. 
 
 A complete picture of Constantinople, ancient and modern. — Worcester Spy. 
 
 3 
 
There are few indeed bo thoroughly equipped for preparing such a work as Professor 
 Grosvenor. It covers the fields of topography, picturesque description, history, biog- 
 raphy, and archaeology with marvellous thoroughness and clearness, and is as valuable 
 to the scholar as it is fascinating to the general reader. — Springfield Republican. 
 
 Professor Grosvenor's "Constantinople" is the unique literary feature of the sea- 
 son. The illustrations alone offer an art gallery in their fulness and beauty. — Inter- 
 Ocean, Chicago. 
 
 In every way the many-sidedness of the subject seems to bring into play the many- 
 sidedness of the author. — Interior, Chicago. 
 
 Professor Grosvenor has accomplished an enviable work. — Post, Chicago. 
 
 A serious and scholarly work, the storehouse of historical, archaeological, and topo- 
 graphical facts. — Dial, Chicago. 
 
 Exhaustive and able. — Journal, Chicago. 
 
 Remarkable wealth of historical research and critical appreciation of artistic merits. 
 Advance, Chicago. 
 
 The work of an enthusiast who has studied profoundly. — Bulletin, Philadelphia. 
 
 Plunges the traveller into the romance and color and fascination of the ancient 
 Byzantine capital. — Press, Philadelphia. 
 
 Two more sumptuous volumes upon a more attractive theme have not been issued. 
 Presbyterian Journal, Philadelphia. 
 
 Weaves the historical and descriptive together in a very readable and attractive way. 
 Telegraph, Philadelphia. 
 
 Delightfully entertaining, full of information, up to date. — American, Philadelphia. 
 
 An accurate scientific work which has color enough to make it fascinating to the 
 general reader. — Literary Era, Philadelphia. 
 
 A notable addition to the books of the season. — Ledger, Philadelphia. 
 
 Rapidly, with a sense of perspective and in a style vivacious, Professor Grosvenor 
 has written a most lucid and picturesque account of the historical whirlpool which 
 for fifteen centuries has had Constantinople for its seething vortex. — Book News, 
 Philadelphia. 
 
 Continually whetting the appetite of the reader. — Bulletin, San Francisco. 
 
 Of special interest. — Examiner, San Francisco. 
 
 A work that promises to be the standard for many years. — Chronicle, San Francisco. 
 
 The most important work on Constantinople that has as yet appeared in English. — 
 News Letter, San Francisco. 
 
 It has been Professor Grosvenor's delight to do for Constantinople what Layard did 
 for Nineveh. — Weekly Bulletin, San Francisco. 
 
 OPINIONS OF THE ENGLISH PRESS. 
 
 Of all the works dealing with the capital of the Turkish dominions these two mag- 
 nificent volumes are certainly the most important. — Publishers' Circular. 
 
 Professor Grosvenor has certainly produced the best and fullest account that has yet 
 appeared of a subject which stood sorely in need of an adequate commentary. As a pic- 
 torial representation of Constantinople and the Bosphorus these volumes are beyond 
 challenge. . . . One must be grateful to Mr. Grosvenor for a laborious work which will 
 be found indispensable to all future students of Constantinople. — Athenarum. 
 
 There is no such complete and detailed account of the history and archaeology and 
 present condition of Constantinople and its neighbourhood in either the English or the 
 American language. Indeed, except in Dr. Paspatis' learned works, we doubt if any- 
 
 4 
 
thing approaching this exhaustive description has been published in any tongue. . . . 
 These two sumptuous volumes, with their admirable illustrations of almost everything 
 worth studying in Greek or Turkish antiquities and art, and all the most beautiful views 
 about Stamboul and the Bosphorus, give far the best existing account of their enchant- 
 ing subject. — Saturday Review. 
 
 Two handsome and attractive volumes. ... If we compare them with the admirable 
 guide-books to Italy and Rome, compiled by Dr. Gsell-Fels, we shall at once recognise 
 their superiority to even the best type of guide-book literature. "The reading world, 
 both of Europe and America, has long needed a history of Constantinople which will 
 enable one wandering through the modernities of the city to identify its hills and sites, 
 and at least measurably to reconstruct it." Such a need is well supplied by Professor 
 Grosvenor. — Times. 
 
 A really magnificent book it is. Nowhere else shall we find so thorough and detailed 
 a description of the Eastern City of the Seven Hills, her present state, her monuments, 
 and the traces of her past glory. . . . Europe must applaud the zeal and industry with 
 which Professor Grosvenor has ransacked his sources, explored every corner of Stam- 
 boul, and every yard from the Seven Towers to the Wandering Rocks of the Argonauts, 
 and marshalled his results in these two interesting and lavishly adorned volumes. — St. 
 James's Gazette. 
 
 We cannot speak too highly of the skilful plan upon which his work is arranged, or 
 of the clear and lucid style in which it is written. . . . The reviewer, who has more 
 than once gone over the same ground, confesses to the Liveliest admiration of the way 
 in which the author has succeeded in conjuring up for him again those lovely shores, 
 and recalling, by some felicitous phrase, the half-forgotten emotion that they once 
 stirred within him. . . . His pages are, as a rule, very free from Americanisms of any 
 kind. —Spectator. 
 
 Professor Edwin A. Grosvenor is a well-known American scholar, who has delved 
 deeply in the ancient and mediaeval archives of the city. Everywhere in these pages 
 there is evidence of patient research on the one hand, and quick-witted observation on 
 the other, and the book — which has occupied the leisure of many years — can scarcely 
 fail to make its own welcome both with students and practical men of affairs. — Leeds 
 Mercury. 
 
 It is very rare indeed that such a magnum opus is put within the reach of the public. 
 As a monogram of Constantinople it is complete, while it is simply perfect as a master- 
 piece of the printer's art. ... No drawing-room, or library of any pretension, can, 
 especially in the present state of public interest in Turkey, be well without this Edition 
 de luxe of a chef d'ceuvre. — Imperial and Asiatic Quarterly Review. 
 
 Professor Grosvenor, the author of " Constantinople," fills the chair of European 
 History at Amherst College, Mass., ai d is a member of the distinguished Hellenic Phil- 
 ologic Syllogos at Constantinople. A trained schoolman, he writes a vivid and impres- 
 sive style, which gives effective expression to knowledge undoubtedly wide and valuable. 
 He writes for those men and women of culture who, where they are ignorant, are eager 
 to be taught ; who, whether they travel or whether they remain home-bound, seek initi- 
 ation into the mysteries of foreign politics and peoples ; who are fain to examine, in 
 person or by proxy, the monumental records of bygone eras. The topographical and 
 archaeological descriptions are full and accurate, and of surpassing diversity and interest. 
 Globe. 
 
 The sober, honest, painstaking, and exceptionally learned narrative of Constantinople 
 as it is now, and as it has been in the past. Professor Grosvenor knows every stone of 
 Stamboul, Galata, Pera, Scutari, and every inch of that enchanting land, with its inter- 
 secting Bosphorus, from the City to the Euxine. What he has done — and a great ser- 
 vice it is — is to present in this moderate compass the substance of that diversified 
 history gathered from every available source. — Daily News. 
 
 Combining in a delightful manner the charm of a book of history, of travel, and of 
 anecdote. — Westminster Gazette. 
 
 5 
 
The capital of the Ottoman Empire is not only a city of great historical associations 
 and unique situation, but holds, at the present moment, a foremost place in the mind of 
 the world. Professor Grosvenor is an American scholar, who is well qualified by long 
 residence in previous years in Constantinople, and protracted archteological ttudy, to 
 deal with a subject so vast and many-sided. — Standard. 
 
 Professor Grosvenor's history is a delightful book. It is essentially an original work, 
 not in any sense a compilation ; the work of one who has walked over every inch of the 
 ground which he describes, and got his information at the fountain-head. . . . The 
 most complete and interesting guide-book to Constantinople that we have yet encoun- 
 tered, while we have reason to believe that it is also the most accurate. — Speaker. 
 
 Whether as ancient Byzantium, or the " New Rome " of Constantine, or the Con- 
 stantinople of his successors, or the Stamboul of the Turks, the wonderful city in the 
 Bosphorus lives in Mr. Grosvenor's pages. — Echo. 
 
 This important work is the most elaborate account which has yet appeared in English 
 on Constantinople in the nineteenth century. Professor Grosvenor gives a remarkably 
 complete picture of the City and its inhabitants in what may be called its transition 
 period. ... It is essentially a standard work, the result of many years of enthusiastic 
 research. — National Observer. 
 
 In these two large and splendidly illustrated volumes Professor Grosvenor has given 
 a most elaborate account of Constantinople and its environs, including both shores of 
 the Bosphorus. and the Prince's Islands in the Sea of Marmora. — Guardian. 
 
 Sold by all booksellers. Mailed, postpaid, on receipt of price, by the 
 Publishers, 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, 
 
 Boston, Mass. 
 
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 (Cl795sl0)476B 
 
 General Library 
 
 University of California 
 
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