This was a little disconcerting, but Nicholas waved his hand lightly.
"A private quarrel merely between myself and my cousin," he said, "which has long ago been made up. Eh, cousin?" Then, in Greek, "They don't talk Greek, God be thanked!"
Petrobey nodded assent.
"We set off to-morrow, Nicholas," he said, "and that very early in the morning. To-night we have guests with us, and it is time for supper. Please seat yourselves, gentlemen. Poor fare, I am afraid, but we did not know that we should be honored by your presence to-night."
Petrobey clapped his hands, and the servant brought the supper. He was a big, strong lad of Yanni's age, the son of a small farm-holding tenant on Petrobey's land, who had been left an orphan while still quite a young boy. Petrobey had brought him up in his own house, as half servant and half companion to Yanni, exacting little service, but receiving complete devotion.
"Put on supper," he said, in Greek, "and keep your ears well open."
The boy brought in the food, and they all sat down together. The meal had only been prepared for three, but as Mitsos was to have been one of the three, and the Turks were small eaters, there seemed to be plenty of food. All three soldiers, from living among the Greeks, had relaxed their religious abstinence from wine, where the wine was good, and the meal went on merrily enough, Nicholas, in particular, talking and laughing with them, and speaking Turkish with wonderful fluency and accuracy. Under pretext of Petrobey's not speaking Turkish at all easily, it was soon arranged between him and Nicholas that he should speak in Greek and Nicholas act as interpreter, translating into Turkish the remarks he made to his guests, and his guests' conversation into Greek; and so it came about that long before the meal was over Petrobey was fully acquainted with Mitsos' departure for Tripoli and also Nicholas's idea for the next day, and they discussed at some length, without arousing the least suspicion, their own manner of escape.
This, Nicholas suggested, should be made as soon as possible on the journey; if it could be managed, at the first halt, for Mitsos would have had twelve hours' start, and should have had time to get Yanni safely out. The advantage of doing this early would be that they would still be travelling in the country of the clan, who would, were it necessary, turn out to cover their retreat; and Nicholas suggested that they should have recourse to a very simple expedient, which he had tried with success once before. The lad Constantine would come with them, he proposed, carrying food for the mid-day meal, as it was six hours to the next village; Nicholas, Petrobey, and the boy would be quite unarmed; and the Turks, secure in the knowledge that Yanni was still hostage, would not, he thought, attempt to bind them. That, however, he would ascertain. During their meal, which should be ample and full of wine, the boy should be instructed to cut the girths of the Turks' horses, and get away home as fast as might be. Then after a decent interval they should think about going on, and Petrobey and he, mounting as quick as they could, should ride cheerfully off at full speed across country towards Taygetus. "The soldiers," added Nicholas, with admirable gravity, "will attempt to do the same, and I wish little Mitsos was here to see them, for it does me good to see Mitsos laugh."
All this was conveyed in short sentences, interpolated with Petrobey's supposed replies to the Turks; and Petrobey, who had taken care that Constantine should be in the room while it was going on, said to him, carelessly, holding out his glass:
"If you completely understand, Constantine, fill my glass with water, and then go; if not, give wine to Nicholas."