“I am like Alcibiades, sir,” he said at length, “and go in for what pays me best—Mr. Maurice there knows my sentiments regarding life.”
“I do; and very bad sentiments they are!”
“I wonder what you would say to the views of Alcibiades!”
“He may carry his views more into practice than you do,” retorted Maurice warmly, “but I defy them to be worse.”
Justinian laughed at the blunt way in which Maurice spoke, so Caliphronas, having his own reasons for keeping a fair face to the old man, discreetly held his peace, and they all trudged along the beach, towards the place where the bodies of the ill-fated sailors lay.
The mast of The Eunice was still above water, but the yacht herself lay far below the blue sea, where she would probably remain until there remained nothing of her save the engines, which would of course defy time and the ocean, until between them these mighty destroyers rusted them to nothing. From the position in which she lay, and the general calmness of the water, it is probable the yacht could have been set afloat again; but the Greeks of the Cyclades have not sufficient energy for such a task, and the underwriters would no doubt rather pay the insurance money than waste more in an attempt to raise the wreck from the depths below.
Twelve bodies had been thrown up by the sea, but the rest of the crew—with the exception of the ten sailors, including Gurt—were buried deep in the ocean. Far up in a sheltered nook, under the red cliffs, twelve graves had been dug in the soft sand, and in these were the ill-fated seamen laid. Martin’s body was not among them, and it doubtless lay in a sailor’s grave nigh the island, encircled by sand, seaweed, and many-colored shells. The funeral ceremony did not take long, but, as Justinian refused the office, Maurice undertook the task of chaplain, and, with a voice full of emotion, read the beautiful burial service of the Church of England over the remains of the dead sailors, which were then covered up, and roughly-made wooden crosses placed at the head of each humble grave, with the name of each and date of death carved thereon. All those present stood bareheaded during the ceremony, even the Melnosians, who were gentlemen enough not to offend the prejudices of the strangers wrecked on their rugged shores.
Everything having thus been done, in order to show respect to the dead, Justinian and his party returned to the entrance of the tunnel, and Dick, the smart young boatswain before mentioned, attached himself to Maurice, for whom he had a great admiration. Dick had received an education much above that of the average British tar, and Maurice found him a very companionable fellow, but one who bore a great hatred for Caliphronas, as he seemed to think the lively Greek was the cause of all the misfortunes which had overtaken The Eunice.
“A kind of Jonah, sir!” said Dick in a whisper, for Caliphronas was walking just ahead of them with Justinian; “if we’d a-chucked him overboard, I don’t believe the boat would have gone ashore.”
“Come, Dick, you cannot say the Count had anything to do with the storm.”