We heard no more from him for a week. He went and came, sometimes by day and sometimes by night; and we in the house in Sokaki Masyeri, prisoners as well as captors, labored with saw and hatchet, hammer and nails. As fast as we shaped the boxes, we carried them down to the drain and packed them, wrapping gold and gems in whatever fabrics we could find around the house, and in this way we used up all the loose lumber, cloth and bedding in Tokalji's store rooms.
Then, one night as we sat in the atrium, very sore as to hands and fingers from the unaccustomed carpentry, there was a knock on the courtyard door, and Wasso Mikali ushered in a tall, lean man in a blue sea-officer's cap. He left this man in the courtyard, and came down to us.
"I have brought you a sea-captain who does not fear to dodge the law," said the old Gypsy without preface. "He loves a Circassian girl who lives in a street near the Khan of the Georgians, and I have made it plain to him that if we do business with him the girl stays in my custody for surety of his honesty. He is a Russian, and his ship is his own—or so he says."
"You did not tell him what we wanted him for?" questioned Hugh.
"Tell him only what you must," counseled Wasso Mikali. "I think I have a hold on this man, but I would not trust him more than I could help."
"Why can't we tell him that we have made a remarkable find of ancient statuary, mosaics and that sort of thing?" I suggested. "He will look us up, and the story will sound credible for King. We'll let him know that the Government wouldn't like to see such a valuable collection go to foreigners, and so we have to smuggle it."
"That will do," Nikka approved. "And that will explain why we must send the boxes aboard secretly."
We made the deal with the Russian captain that night. He was not a bad chap, but a bit put to it to earn the keep of himself, his crew and his vessel by reason of the anomalous situation in which they found themselves, the Slava still running under the old Imperial registry. She was a tidy tramp of 5,000 tons odd, and Captain Malakovich made no objection to turning over the necessary cabins for our use. He expressed himself feelingly as glad to help any one who was trying to diddle the Turkish government, and he served us with a loyalty that earned him a considerable additional honorarium upon our arrival in Southampton.
"I'll enter your stuff on my manifests after we clear the port," he said frankly. "I don't care whether I ever come back here. As to Aleikouan—" the Circassian—"Wasso Mikali can send her to Salonika when he receives word that I have landed you gentlemen. I'll trade with the Greeks after this. I'm through with the Turks."
The transfer of the treasure occupied a week, for we could only work at night, carrying the heavy boxes down the drain and utilizing the limited stowage-room of the Curlew. We set Watkins aboard the Slava to watch the boxes, and the rest of us either mounted guard on our prisoners or else made more boxes and packed. It was a hectic time. The only real excitement that marked it, however, was a visit we received from two of Tokalji's men from the camp of the tribe in the Forest of Belgrade. Kara took care of them, sending them back with imaginary instructions from her father.