He grinned. “Bit bumpy, was it?”
“Yes.”
They climbed out stiffly and found themselves standing on what had once been the flagged courtyard of a small house. All that remained of the house itself was a ruined wall and a pile of debris.
“ELAS boys did that,” Arthur explained; “the other lot were using it as a stronghold. We go this way.”
The ruined house was on the summit of a pine-clad hill. They followed Arthur along a track which led from the house down through the trees.
They walked silently over pine needles for about fifty yards, then Arthur halted.
“Wait a tick,” he said.
They waited while he went on ahead. It was very dark under the trees and there was a strong smell of pine resin. After the atmosphere in the truck, the soft, cool air was delicious. A faint murmur of voices came from the darkness ahead.
“Did you hear that, Miss Kolin?”
“Yes. They were speaking Greek, but I could not distinguish the words. It sounded like a sentry challenging and receiving a reply.”