“Herr von Moorton—a bargain is a bargain. I am your man and you are my master. Whatever your nobleness orders—Papiu will do.”
Looking boldly into Morton’s face, he continued: “And my brother, he is good with horses, quick with the rifle, has eye like a hawk and knows Roumelia and the people. If I hire him for you, he will swear—and his oath is good. You pay him the same money and give his sweetheart a present when we come back—Mihai will help good.”
“Very well, Papiu, tell him he is engaged. And now—let us go and look up the wagoner, where my friend waits for us. Do you know him?”
“I have seen him judging the horses. He looks good and strong and is kind to the beasts. He comes with us, he my friend.”
“Good, Papiu, let’s go then.”
Morton had a very busy time of it during the rest of the forenoon. He found Donald waiting for him and with his and Papiu’s help, they made the necessary purchases and loaded the wagon. The things he had shipped from Italy had been delivered and were also included in the load.
During a frugal meal partaken of in the smithy, Morton arranged that he would start early that very afternoon by the regular train for Bucharest, in his assumed character of prospective investor and buyer of blooded horses. Donald and the two brothers were to leave next morning with the vehicle and the relay horses. They were to join him on Saturday at Padina, where they would make arrangements for relay horses and prepare a safe stopping place a night’s drive beyond Padina on their way to the mountains.
Mihai now came on the scene and was duly introduced. Papiu held some speech with him, looking very serious and impressive. He explained to Morton that the holy father had instructed Mihai and that his brother would like to shake hands with Herr von Morton. Morton accepted the hearty grip of the mountaineer who smiled his gladness.
Mihai proved to be an elongated copy of his elder brother. On being consulted, he suggested the “Bovu Aro” (Golden Calf) Inn as a good rendezvous, a little beyond Padina. Morton congratulated himself on having secured the services of two such fine fellows. He impressed upon them, however, the necessity for avoiding giving cause for suspicion to the natives of the country they were about to travel, and especially to steer clear of any military guards. His own man, Don, would keep out of sight as much as possible, so that a great deal would be left to their discretion. If they were asked their business they were to say that they were but going to market and returning; they would enter Padina from the Northwest, on the road running in from the Aluta Valley. On this road they were to make a careful record of all telegraph stations, villages and houses between their last stop and Padina. He gave them money sufficient to carry them on their way and for any further expenses they might be compelled to incur. The two men said they understood his instructions and would follow them carefully.
The horses were hitched into the shafts of the stout, canvas-covered wagon now all loaded and ready. Don and the two men got in; the wagoner mounted the seat and with a parting good-bye and a crack of the driver’s whip, they lumbered away, leaving Morton alone in the yard. He looked after the wagon and as he saw it disappearing in the distance, he speculated as to what would be the outcome of this enterprise—an enterprise so suddenly put to him and so suddenly entered on. Surely it would end well! Nay, it must end well. Putting all doubts out of his mind, he made his way to Father Moskar’s rectory. He thanked the old priest heartily for his kindness and promised to come back and tell him the result of his undertaking. The old man gave him his blessing in return.