[Part II]
THE EVE OF THE GATHERING
[CHAPTER I]
MITSOS MEETS HIS COUSINS
Since August Nicholas had been travelling about the Peloponnesus, being received everywhere with a sober, secret welcome as one of the accredited leaders of the revolution. The Turks, through whose Kismet the truth of the ever-increasing rumors had begun to break, had long held him in indolent suspicion, but had taken no steps to counteract the report of his death, for they hoped—if Turks can be said to hope—somewhat ingeniously, but wholly mistakenly, that such news would prove to be a cooling draught to this ill-defined fever of revolution. The Greeks, however, as Germanos had said, knew "that Nicholas was not the sort of man who died," and Turkish ingenuity went strangely wide of its aim. In fact, it enabled Nicholas to move about more freely, and to take a liberal advantage of the fact that he was supposed to be beyond the reach of war and rumor of war. Indeed, in October, finding himself back at Corinth, where he had business with one of his fellow-workers, he had filled an idle afternoon with carving a little wooden cross on which he painted his name, and below, with a two-handled meaning, the text, "The trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised." He was to leave Corinth that night, and after the dark had fallen he and his host went to the Greek cemetery and planted this eloquent little monument over a newly made grave. When it was discovered it caused a certain amount of intelligent amusement among the Greeks; but the Turks seemed to miss the point of the joke. Not even they would have dared to disturb a Greek cemetery, for the dead had in their eyes a sacredness which the living altogether lacked; and it remained there for a year, when subsequent events saw it planted over the most honored grave in Greece.
December and the first half of January Nicholas had spent in the country of his kin, south of Sparta, and it was from there he had fled in haste to Nauplia, for his presence in Maina, which was notably patriotic, had become too insistent to be disregarded, and the Turkish governor of Tripoli, Mehemet Salik, had demanded of the Greek bey of that district, Petros Mavromichales, usually known as Petrobey, that he should be given up on the old charge of brigandage. Petrobey, like Germanos, was of high rank, and the Turks seemed to have had no suspicion that he himself was a leader of the revolution; but, as a matter of fact, he and Nicholas, who was staying with him at the time, read the letter together and consulted what should be done.
Nicholas was disposed to shrug at it altogether, or merely to send back an answer that he was officially declared to be dead and buried—witness the grave and its monument; but Petrobey thought otherwise. His own usefulness to the cause was immensely increased by the fact that he at present stood outside suspicion, and he advised Nicholas to retire where they were not likely to look for him, while he himself would prosecute a vigorous and indubitably unsuccessful search elsewhere, as an evidence of his own unimpeachable fidelity. Had not Nicholas got a brother-in-law—his own cousin—at Nauplia? Nauplia was an excellent hiding-place, for it was under the very nose of the Turkish governor, and people always looked everywhere else first. But it would be necessary to have some extremely trustworthy person who could communicate between them; and Nicholas had spoken to him of his nephew. This nephew lived at Nauplia, did he not? How very convenient! Nicholas should go to Nauplia and send his nephew back to Maina, where he could be very useful.