"The senate will, therefore, vote as to whether Monemvasia is to be occupied in the name of the senate or in my name," he said, shortly.
For once there was unanimity between the two parties, and it was decided that Monemvasia was to be occupied in the name of the senate. The discussions about the terms of the capitulation were then renewed, but as it was felt that the commander of the blockading force had more voice in the matter than any one else, Germanos, with the amiable desire of perhaps thwarting Nicholas, whose proposal had been more moderate than his own, suggested that this point should be settled between the commander and the prince upon the arrival there of the latter, for it was absurd that commanders of a force which was besieging Tripoli should have a voice in the matter. Nicholas, knowing that Petrobey would be there too, and that he had more influence with the prince than any one, acquiesced with a smile, saying that Germanos's sage reflection applied equally to primates who were not in command of anything.
So for a time the centre of the war, like some slow-moving stream, shifted to Monemvasia, and during the whole of August half the army lay idle on the hills round Tripoli; and with the departure of the prince the tales of scandalous slander were again taken up by the primates, the result of which was to appear later. Germanos, though he must have known what was going on, held aloof, and did not mix up in the affairs of the camp; though, to his shame be it said, he appeared to make no effort to check the outrageous intrigues.
To Nicholas, however, the month was full of work, and he at once put in hand arrangements for the regular supplies of the camp, and was occupied with drilling the men; under his wise yet severe rule the unorganized troops began slowly to take shape, and his example shamed many of the other idle and irresponsible captains into following his lead, though, having little knowledge of military matters themselves, it must be concluded that their men were not able to advance to a high degree of efficiency. Meantime, among the men themselves the utter inability of the prince either to check abuses or to enforce discipline had become apparent, and from the time of his departure for Monemvasia his power may be said to have ceased altogether. And when the news of what had taken place at that town came to hand, from being nothing he became ridiculous.
The nightly raids ceased, for all the cultivated land round Tripoli was already devastated, and neither in the town nor in the camp was any particular vigilance observed. The Turks knew it was hopeless to attack Trikorpha; till the return of Petrobey the Greeks had no thought of attempting to storm the town; and Mitsos, brooding inwardly one night on the rough wall where he and Yanni used often to sit, had an idea which arose from this inaction.
For several weeks after the adventure of the fire-ship his anxieties about Suleima had been stilled, for that escape seemed to him so heaven-sent that with childlike faith he had no manner of doubt but that the saints watched over her, and though at times his heart went a-mourning for her absence, yet he trusted an unreasoning conviction that at the time appointed he would see her again. The strong probability that she was in this beleaguered town did not at first weigh on him at all. Some day, when provisions ran short, it would capitulate, and there would be a repetition of the scene at Kalamata; or they would storm it, and there would be fighting inside. But the women would all be in the houses, and even if the houses were attacked she would remember what he had told her, and cry out to them in Greek, saying she was of their blood, and all would be well. But when the excitement of the skirmish at Valtetzi, now nearly two months ago, and the move to Trikorpha, with all the delightful night-raiding, was over, and was succeeded by an inaction sickened by the odious intrigues of the primates, he began to weary sore for her, and then to be filled with panic fears as unfounded as his first security. Safety in a siege, there was no such thing! A chance bullet, an angry Greek, and a repetition of that infernal butchery of women and children on board the ship bound for Egypt. What was more horribly possible? A burning house, a falling wall, and then a mass of pulped bodies.
On this particular night his fears grew like the monstrous visions of some hag-ridden nightmare. A hundred terrible scenes loomed enormous before him, and in each Suleima, with white, imploring face, was struck out of life, now by a bullet, now by a sword. Below, in the part of the town nearest him, where five or six big houses were built on the wall, there gleamed rows of lights from narrow-barred windows, and from each Suleima's face looked out from a room burning within, while she shook the iron bars with impotent hands as the flames flickered and rose behind her.
The thing became intolerable; he rose and walked about, but found no rest. Thirty yards away the soldiers' huts began, and he could hear sounds of singing from the big shanty-built café a little farther on. The sentry had just been on his rounds, and Mitsos exchanged a word or two with him as he passed, and he would be back again in half an hour. The wall inside was only six feet high, outside perhaps ten or twelve, but with plenty of handhold for an agile lad, and the next moment, without thinking where or why he went, he had clambered up and dropped down on the other side.
Did he not know where he was going? Ah, but his heart told him. Somewhere in that fiery-eyed town, into which entrance was impossible, was she for whom he was made, she with the eyes of night and the history of his soul written on the curves of her lips. And inasmuch as she was there, the rekindled fever of his love drew him thither, neither willing nor unwilling, but steel to the magnet, a moth to the star. He had taken off his shoes in order to get a better grip in the crevices of the wall, and went down barefooted over the basalt rocks all ashine with dew. The moon had strayed westward beyond the zenith, casting his shadow a little in front of him, and round his head as he walked moved an opaline halo. Then he crossed the mountain stream and stood in it for a moment, for the coldness of the moon and the eternal youth of night had entered into its waters, making them vigorous and bracing. A little wind drawing down its course was full of the scent of water and green things, and streamed out to renovate the hot air of the plain. Then on again through a little belt of vineyard, still close to the camp and not destroyed, where the stream talked less noisily in the soft earth, with a whiff of summer from the ripening bunches, and the scuttle of some disturbed hare come down to feed on the leaves. Then he crossed the stream again, which lay in an elbow southward, and, pushing through a clump of oleanders which rose above his head, came out into the plain. The earth was warm under foot after the cold rocks, and he ran plunging across it, till, getting within a stone's-throw of the wall, he crept more slowly, and finally lay down in the shadow of a felled olive-tree, and looked to see if there was aught stirring.