Chapter XXIII: A Fusion of Interests

The soldiers came down the street talking loudly and excitedly, for the bonds of discipline were evidently relaxed. Every now and then a stray shot told that one of them thought he had seen a figure lurking in the shadow, and was taking the surest way of making things safe. The fitful beams of an old and inefficient lantern wavered from side to side as the leading man swung it towards each doorway in turn, but the light was so feeble that Wylie, standing rigid in his corner, almost hoped not to be seen. But his tweed clothes stood out against the dark and greasy stonework of the porch, and as the beam fluttered over him a voice called, “There’s a man hiding in that door!” Instantly the ready rifles were focussed upon him, and even before he could step forward two or three random shots struck the stonework and spattered up the dust at his feet, but these were only due to nervous men with twitching fingers. Before the order could be given to fire, his voice rang out, “Cease firing!” in Roumi, and, taken by surprise, the soldiers obeyed. He seized his opportunity, and called out that he was English, and demanded their protection as far as the British Consulate.

“Why, it is a dog of a Christian, after all!” said one.

“If he did not throw the bombs, he stirred up the rascals to do it,” said another.

“And what is he doing here, anyhow?” demanded a third.

“Discovered under suspicious circumstances,” growled the sergeant. “He can’t do any harm dead.”

“He can do you a lot of harm when his body is found, you old fool!” said Wylie vigorously. The sergeant jumped.

“Here! give me the lantern,” he said, and taking it from the man who held it, swung it so that the light fell on Wylie’s face. “Why, it is the Bimbashi Bey with the cruel eyes, who gave us cigarettes when we were up in the north three months ago!” he cried. “He is a good man, Christian or not. Let there be no more talk of shooting him. What does the Bimbashi Bey desire?”

“Can you get us to the Consulate?” asked Wylie, moving aside. The men’s eyes grew round as they distinguished Eirene crouching in the shadow behind him.

“It will be very difficult to take the lady such a long way through the streets,” mused the sergeant. “Has the Bimbashi Bey no friends in the Greek quarter?”

“I am staying with Professor Panagiotis,” said Wylie.

“Oh, the chief of the Greeks! That is well, unless his house is one of those destroyed. We can soon see.”

The soldiers opened out, and Wylie and Eirene took their places in the midst. The sergeant, stalking just ahead, conversed with Wylie over his shoulder. Ever since their meeting in the north, he and his men had been sent hither and thither to places where outbreaks were expected, but the outbreaks always occurred in the districts they had just left, or, as now, had been allowed to come to a head instead of being nipped in the bud. Every one had been expecting this particular outbreak for days, or even weeks, he declared. It might have been entirely prevented, but some one must have been heavily bribed. Undoubtedly it was all due to the representatives of the Powers, who with one hand egged on the revolutionists to their outrages, and with the other held back the Roumis from punishing them as they deserved.

Argument of this kind did not admit of much reply, and Wylie attempted no defence of the action of the Powers, which had certainly not been marked by any particular success. They were now in the Greek quarter, and scared faces peeped at them from upper windows, while every door was fast shut. Arrived at the end of the street in which Professor Panagiotis lived, they found a cordon of soldiers drawn across it, guarding a carriage which was waiting ready to start. About the middle of the street, a gap in the row of houses dark against the sky showed where the Professor’s dwelling had stood. The sergeant questioned his colleague in charge of the guard, and found that they had been detailed by the Vali to escort the Professor home, as his life was considered to be in danger, but on arriving they discovered from the neighbours that the house had been destroyed almost simultaneously with the first explosion--that at the Seignorial Bank. The Professor was now examining the ruins, to see whether any of his property could be saved, but in a few minutes he was to be escorted to the city gate, and set safely on his way to Kallimeri.

“This is most fortunate,” said Wylie to Eirene. “I will make bold to offer you the shelter of the Professor’s villa instead of his house here, and you will meet the Teffanys again. They are longing to see you.”

“Teffany? Oh, you mean Maurice and Zoe. I always think of them as Smith. I should rejoice to meet them again, but not--not like this.” Eirene looked down at her torn clothes and ruined shoes. “It would not be proper--becoming. We are not now in the mountains.”

Wylie laughed involuntarily. “They must have seen you in much worse trim often in the mountains,” he said. “Why is it improper now, if it wasn’t then?”

“The circumstances are different,” she said, flushing. “They know now who I am. I cannot thrust myself upon them and ask help. At least we were all in the same plight in the mountains.”

“I can relieve your mind on one point, at any rate. There’s no question of thrusting yourself upon them, for they are most anxious to see you. I have a letter from Miss Teffany for you here, if you can see to read it, and I was charged in addition to use all the arts of diplomacy to persuade you to visit Kallimeri, if only for a day, and even if you had to be accompanied by Madame Ladoguin.”

“You really mean it?” she asked, looking up at him doubtfully. “You are not saying it merely to make me willing to come? You may not quite understand, but it is a tremendous step for me to take. I mean, if the Ladoguins choose, they may say--things about me, and I may be cast off entirely--if I don’t go back to the Consulate at once, you know.”

Wylie cut short her halting utterances. “Don’t be afraid,” he said kindly. “You shall go back to the Consulate as early as you like to-morrow. To-night you simply can’t get there. Slander itself could say nothing against your accepting a night’s shelter from your father’s old friend and his wife. Now, will you get into the carriage and read your letter, while I go and look for the Professor? You will promise me to wait here until I come back?”

Much to his relief, Eirene uttered no protest, and the idea which had occurred to him that she might slip away when his back was turned, and lose herself in the mazes and dangers of the streets, had evidently not entered her mind. She was too much exhausted by all she had undergone to have energy left to make plans for herself, and it was an untold relief to find her movements settled for her. Gratefully she accepted Wylie’s help, and entered the carriage, receiving Zoe’s letter from him with a word of thanks, and leaning forward eagerly to read it by the light of the sergeant’s lantern. Her piteous little white face, as she looked up at him in utter bewilderment of fatigue, was in Wylie’s thoughts as he passed the cordon to find the Professor, and it made him very determined to obtain success in a task which he foresaw, though without exactly knowing why, would have its difficulties. He met the Professor returning to the carriage, and condoled with him on his losses.

“Oh, it was only to be expected,” was the philosophical reply. “It would have been something of a slight if I had been left unmolested on such an occasion. Of course, the miscreants hoped to benefit themselves,--I hear there were a dozen Jews raking over the ruins almost before the fire had ceased, under pretence of helping to save my possessions,--but I need not tell you they found nothing. We shall save nothing of the furniture or contents of the house, unfortunately; the destruction was too thorough. Two or three bombs must have been used, I should say, and remarkably well placed. The caretaker’s wife, who escaped, tells me she noticed a very tall woman, whom she suspected to be a man in disguise, hanging about just at dusk. Well, we had better get back to Kallimeri. I am sorry it is no use looking for your bag, if that was your reason for coming down here.”

“Never once thought of it,” said Wylie, detaining him. “No, I have picked up a European lady in distress, and I want to take her back with us. There’s nothing else to be done.”

“Who is the lady?” asked the Professor sharply.

“The Princess Eirene Féofan.”

“I suspected as much. No; let her go back to the Scythian Consulate. I have no responsibility for her.”

“She can’t. The streets are impassable. You knew her father; you can’t refuse her shelter.”

“I will have nothing to do with her. Do you realise that she is a Scythian tool, the only person whose right to the Greek Imperial crown approaches--in some eyes even overshadows--that of Maurice Teffany? Let Scythia look after her own candidate; my interests are diametrically opposed to hers.”

“Professor,” said Wylie, a bright idea seizing him, and enabling him to choke down his indignation, “you can’t deceive me. Don’t try to tell me that the same thought isn’t in your head as in mine. The game is in your hands, and it’s no use trying to persuade me that you think of throwing away your advantage. If you can get the Princess to Kallimeri, and marry her to Teffany, you and he are both made men.”

The Professor drew in his breath with a hissing sound. “He might be,” he said. “I should be left out.”

“Oh, nonsense! when both of them would owe you a debt of gratitude ever after for having brought them together? Why, it would give you the strongest possible influence at once.”

The Professor considered the matter, and it was evident to Wylie that he was weighing the merits of various courses in his mind. Like Maurice, the soldier had the unpleasant feeling that in the Professor’s cogitations his wishes or arguments had little part. The issue would be decided by considerations far less obvious.

“Your idea is excellent,” he heard at last, with sensible relief. “Such a marriage would at once checkmate Scythia, and strengthen enormously Mr Teffany’s position. I will represent the propriety of it to him as soon as we reach Kallimeri, and there need be no difficulty with the lady. She will be in our hands.”

“Are you mad?” demanded Wylie, seizing him again by the arm as he turned quickly towards the carriage. “You can’t be serious in proposing to put pressure upon the Princess. Why, Teffany would become your enemy for life. The Princess comes to Kallimeri purely for refuge, and incidentally to see her old friends before returning to Scythia. If Teffany can induce her to stay, it’s all right. Otherwise, we must take her back to the Consulate to-morrow.”

“That will be too late,” muttered the Professor. “The streets will be clear again, and she will pass safely.”

“Look here,” said Wylie; “let me give you a word of advice. You and I are men of the world, and know exactly how much and how little you mean when you say things like that. But it would not sound well to the Teffanys, and they might believe you meant it. Do you see?”

The Professor signified reluctantly that he did, and asked, “Then what is the good of taking the Princess to Kallimeri?”

“Simply to bring them together. If Teffany wants her, he won’t let her go again, after his sister and I have piled up the agony about endless separation and the dangers that will surround the Princess in Scythia.”

“Ah, and what interest have you and Miss Teffany in the affair?” demanded the Professor, severely.

“Miss Teffany hopes to gratify her brother, who would have come into Therma to-day to try and see the Princess, if I had not insisted on coming instead. My only interest is to gratify a wish expressed by Miss Teffany.”

Baffled by the unmoved tone, Professor Panagiotis went on towards the carriage, where Eirene, tired out, had fallen asleep in her corner. Wylie presented the Professor to her, and gave what money he had with him to the friendly sergeant, to distribute among his men, before taking his seat. The soldiers who had formed the cordon surrounded the carriage, and they drove slowly towards the gate nearest Kallimeri. Many streets were blocked with the ruins of houses which had been destroyed, in others fires were raging and troops forbade passage, in others the search for revolutionists was still being carried on, to the accompaniment of shots and shrieks, others again were empty, save for rigid forms prone in the shadow of the houses. At the gate, the Vali’s seal, exhibited by the officer of the escort, obtained them a speedy passage, and the soldiers convoyed them through the environs of the town until they were safely on the upland road leading to Kallimeri. Then the escort was dismissed, the driver was at length allowed to whip up his horses, and in the wild, headlong style dear to him and his tribe they rattled up to the villa.

“Oh, what has been happening?” cried Zoe, rushing down from a point of vantage beside the gate. “We have seen explosions, and the most dreadful fires--not the ordinary kind that happen every night, but whole streets must have been burnt. We were all so frightened. I have been watching here for hours.”

“That was very dangerous,” said Wylie, his heart leaping, nevertheless. He had jumped out of the carriage to meet her, and the Professor and Eirene, the latter still slumbering, had driven on. “If a revolutionist had been hanging about ready to blow up the villa, he would have killed you, lest you should give the alarm.”

“But in that case I shouldn’t have been much better off in the house,” said Zoe flippantly. “It was revolutionists, then--who have been blowing up the town, I mean? So you were not able to deliver my note, I suppose?”

“Wasn’t I?” said Wylie triumphantly. “Why, I’ve brought the Princess back. She’s in the carriage.”

“In the carriage? Eirene? and you have kept me walking slowly here! What will she think of me?”

“Wait one minute,” said Wylie, as Zoe quickened her pace to a run; “I’m very proud of myself for the way in which I did your errand, for I have had to employ all the resources of diplomacy to overcome the Princess’s objections to coming here, and the Professor’s objections to having her. But we must manage to rush things a bit to-morrow morning, for she means to go back.”

“And if she does, we may as well give it up, for she will be out of our reach,” said Zoe. “Clearly we must precipitate matters. Oh, but how did you know what I was hoping for?” she cried suddenly. “I never told you.”

“I guessed, from what you told me about your brother, and then it came to me in a flash that we might get things settled at once, thanks to all this affair in the city. Nobody knows where the Princess is, you see, and it’ll take some time to track her.”

“You mean they could get married before she is found? Oh, how splendid! We must manage it. I will think about it to-night, and you must play up to me to-morrow.”

“Trust me!” said Wylie, as they arrived at the door, where Madame Panagiotis, a very correct German lady of commanding proportions, was looking with evident suspicion at Eirene, with her bare shoulders and tattered evening gown. With a cry of delight the two girls rushed into each other’s arms, and on Zoe’s guarantee, Madame Panagiotis consented to receive the dishevelled-looking stranger. There was a room next to Zoe’s she could have, she said, and she herself would lend her decent clothes, unless Miss Teffany cared to do so. Zoe declared joyfully that no one else should look after her friend, and carried her off upstairs at once, pausing only to say aside to Wylie--

“Just tell Maurice, as you pass, that she is here. Then perhaps he will be able to sleep.”

Returning to Eirene, she found the Professor saying pointedly how glad he was to receive under his roof a younger branch of the illustrious house to which his honoured guests belonged, and she swept her off at once, afraid that he might go on to say something that would spoil her plans.

“Isn’t Madame Panagiotis funny?” she asked of Eirene, when they were by themselves. “Maurice and I used to wonder whether she would sit on the floor and eat with her fingers, and you can imagine our feelings when we found her such a monument of propriety. Do you know, the Professor called her at first ‘the Mrs Professor’ when he talked English--_die Frau Professorin_, you know--but he must have seen it sounded queer, and he gave it up.”

Eirene sat listening passively while Zoe took down her hair and brushed it. “Oh, Zoe,” she broke out suddenly, “it is such a rest to be here. I don’t mind any one else--Professor or Professorin--if I can be near you and Maurice. You can’t guess how I have longed for you!”

“It’s awfully sweet of you to say it,” said Zoe, penitently. “I know I was perfectly horrid to you often.”

“You weren’t!” was the indignant reply. “You and Maurice were always just the same to me, whether you thought I was Miss Smith or a Princess. You were quite right to scold me when I said silly things. And, Zoe, you were right about Vlasto, and I was too silly. He was Nicetas Mitsopoulo, Chariclea Ladoguin’s brother, in disguise. I recognised him as soon as he was presented to me, and I thought how you would triumph. I deserved it.”

“At any rate, it’s quite new for us to be paying each other compliments. And have you brought the girdle of Isidora with you?”

“Oh no, how could I? I did not dare to carry it in my dress any longer, because of the maid. Do you know, Zoe, they were so anxious that I should send it as a peace-offering to the Empress? Chariclea and her brother both hinted at it. But I would not do it. It seemed like buying back her favour by giving up my rights--your rights, too. I found out a hiding-place for it, but I don’t know whether it’s safe. Perhaps they will discover it this evening while I am away, and send it to Pavelsburg, pretending that it comes from me!”

“Well, if they do, you can’t help it,” said Zoe. “Let it alone for to-night. Are you frightfully tired, Eirene? There are such a lot of things I want to ask you. Look here, let us bring your bed into my room, and then we can talk without disturbing any one till we go to sleep. I know Maurice will want you all the morning.”

Loss of sleep, and her adventures of the evening, did not seem to have told on Eirene’s spirits when she appeared the next day. Zoe had dressed her hair low to hide the cuts and bruises received in the explosion, and she looked very pretty in a white gown, which Zoe surrendered to her heroically, though she had just had it made for herself to replace the horrible German ready-made garments with which she had been obliged to content herself on reaching Therma. The two girls were sitting in the verandah looking into the inner courtyard of the house, when Wylie, already primed for his part, brought up the steps first an armful of cushions, and then Maurice, and established him in a long chair.

“Could I speak to you a minute?” he said to Zoe, as they had agreed, and she went to the other end of the verandah with him.

“I really have something to say,” he said. “It’s quite impossible for the Princess to get back this morning. Firing is still going on in the town, and they don’t think things will quiet down until fresh troops arrive, which won’t be till to-night. What do you think of my riding in and asking the Ladoguins to send a proper escort for her?”

“It would provide the necessity for decision, which is what we want,” said Zoe gravely. “I will call her away to write a letter to Madame Ladoguin when it is time for you to start. Perhaps they will have settled things before that. I shall leave them to themselves for the morning, as soon as I have explained to Eirene that she must stay here till she is sent for.”

“Won’t that be rather pointed--leaving them to themselves, I mean?” asked Wylie solicitously.

Zoe gave him a look of pity. “I shall stay here,” she said. “If they talk loud, I can hear them, and join in, but if they choose to talk low, I shall work quietly.”

“I suppose I mayn’t come and share your vigil?”

“No, your company would be too distracting. I must be unobtrusively on the watch, you know.”

Wylie departed without a murmur, possibly a little to Zoe’s disappointment, and only returned, equipped for riding, about two hours later.

“Now for it!” said Zoe. “I must take my courage in both hands. Shall I save the situation, or shall I ruin it?”

“But don’t you think it’s all right by this time?”

“Not a bit. Every now and then I have heard what they said, and it was always ‘Do you remember?’ like children talking over a Sunday-school treat. I might have sat with them the whole time. Well, now to interrupt them. Doesn’t it make you feel a brute?”

“Not in the least, nor you either. You know perfectly well that you feel like a whole three-volume novel, or a goddess out of a machine, or anything else that annihilates time and space to make two lovers happy.”

Zoe looked at him critically. “You mustn’t thought-read to such an extent,” she said, “or I shall be afraid of you. It’s uncanny. Now I am going to make the plunge. Eirene, are you ready? Captain Wylie is waiting to start.”

“Start? Where to?” demanded Maurice.

“For Therma, of course, to take Eirene’s letter. If she is to get back to-night, she must be sent for.”

“With these outrages still going on, when she has barely escaped with her life already? Nonsense! she can’t go back.”

“I can’t stay away any longer,” said Eirene.

“It’s awfully hard that you should just get this one glimpse of us, like a condemned man saying good-bye to his friends, and then go away for ever,” said Zoe.

“Why should she go away at all?” said Maurice suddenly. “Zoe, give us two minutes more. And just tell Wylie, will you? Eirene,” as Zoe vanished, “do you want to go back?”

“I must,” she said, smiling at him bravely.

“Can you bear to go back? I can’t bear you to go.”

“But I must,” she murmured, trying to draw away her hand.

“Oh no, you needn’t, if--Eirene, I know it will sound frightful cheek to you, but I must say it--if you would marry me.”

“You are sorry for me,” she said quickly, “because you know I am no longer the heir.”

“I never thought of it. I am sorry for you, but only because it’s so rough on you to give you the alternative of taking me or going back to a life you dread.”

[Image: images/img_318.jpg Caption: “_I can’t bear you to go_.” “_But I must_,” _she murmured._]

“I suppose you understand,” said Eirene with energy, “that if I went back to Scythia I should be replaced in my old position, and be rich and received at Court?”

“Yes, I know, and I can only offer you a country life in England--for certain. Anything else is mere possibility.”

“Do you imagine I am thinking of that? I want to be sure you do not say this out of pity.”

“But I do. I want you to take pity on me.”

Sunshine succeeded momentary dismay on Eirene’s face.

“You know,” she said softly, “there was a condition to be fulfilled before I could be received at Court again?”

“That you should marry some one, I suppose? Who is the brute?”

“Oh no, they would not say that in words. The condition was that I should write to ask forgiveness, and say I was sorry for running away.”

“Well, and did you do it?”

“No, I would not--because I am glad, glad, glad, that I ran away. If I had not----”

“Yes?” Maurice had her hand fast by this time.

“I should still have been a rebel, opposing the head of my house,” said Eirene demurely.

“We might even have been pitted against one another,” said Maurice, with equal solemnity. “By the bye, have you gone into my claims at all?”

“No, they are yours, and you believe they are just--that is enough,” said Eirene.