The chief smiled a most attractive smile it appeared to me; though my brother afterwards described it as fatuous.
“I hope you did not find the ascent too difficult,” the leader inquired solicitously.
“Two of the pallikaria made a skamnaki for me,” I put in. “It was very nice of them.”
I have always spoken my mother tongue with considerable foreign accent, not having learned it until after I spoke French, German and Turkish, and this accent at once attracted the attention of our host. Gravely he asked:
“Did you acquire this French accent, mademoiselle, in the short time you have been studying the French language. Let me see, it is three months now since you passed through the forest before. That was the first time you left Anatolia, I believe—and one does not acquire a French accent in Anatolia.”
From Mano’s face I knew that he was troubled, therefore I refrained from being impertinent in answer to our host’s impertinence about my accent. The latter went on lazily:
“We were sorry to miss you before. We fully intended offering you our hospitality then—only you changed your plans so suddenly, and arrived a week before you had intended to. I am glad we were fortunate enough to secure you this time. One pines for social intercourse in the mountains.”
The leader’s Greek was excellent. It was easy to see that he must have been well born, or at least well educated. He stretched himself on a sheep-skin near, and called to the cook:
“A whole one, boys!” Then, turning to us: “No one will be able to say that we did not kill the fatted lamb for you.”
The cook, squatting by the fire, rose, walked over to an opening at one side of the cave, and called: