Roylands closed his eyes, and obeyed; while Crispin, with a sponge and water, brought by the swift-footed Temistocles, carefully bathed the wound, and dexterously bound it up with lint and linen, so that Maurice felt more comfortable.
“It’s only a flesh wound,” he said in a satisfied tone; “but it is a mercy you did not get your head smashed.”
“What is the time?”
“Nearly ten o’clock in the morning. You’ve been fighting all night, so I don’t wonder you are dead beat. The sun will be up over the eastern peaks soon.”
It was indeed long after dawn, for in the darkness of the tunnel no one had taken any count of the hours; and when the earthquake had occurred it was just that time between the fading night and the coming day. So upset and excited had Maurice been with the fight, the earthquake, and the escape, that neither he nor any one else remembered that the fighting had begun at midnight, and lasted till sunrise. And now he remembered that the sun had risen while they were rounding the angle of the island; but, having forgotten the flight of time, he had not thought this strange. It was a great blessing that they had escaped in the boat at daylight; else even in the luminous night it would have been difficult, with the sea in such a perturbed condition, to have made the voyage safely.
Very shortly Justinian arrived, full of thankfulness for Maurice’s escape, and fear concerning his wound; but by this time the young man, though much shaken, was quite himself again; and, leaning on the Demarch’s arm, with occasional assistance from Crispin, managed to crawl along as far as the Acropolis, where they were joyously received by Helena.
As the tunnel was now completely closed up, there was no chance of the pirates getting in that way; so Justinian sent all his men over to the western pass, where, under the command of Dick, they remained on guard. The women from the village came up the first thing in the morning with provisions and wine to minister to their wants; so, thus, everything being in order for the present, the Demarch was anxious to hear all the details of his nephew’s miraculous escape.
He told them the whole story over the breakfast table, with occasional help from Gurt, who was admitted to the symposium on account of his bravery during the battle. The old Demarch, self-contained both by nature and training, did not say much during the recital, beyond expressing his heartfelt joy at the escape of his nephew, but it could easily be seen that he was inordinately proud of Maurice’s prowess and promptitude of action; for, though the hero himself modestly suppressed such details as tended to self-glorification, Gurt, in his blunt sailor way, came out with the true unvarnished facts of the case, which caused Maurice to blush, and his audience to exclaim admiringly.
“By Jove, Maurice, you ought to be a V.C.!” cried Crispin, when the story came to an end. “If you hadn’t had your wits about you, and seized that boat, you would have been a dead man to a certainty!”
“It is the Roylands’ blood!” said Justinian proudly. “I knew I was not mistaken in my estimate of your character, Maurice. You will make an admirable ruler of Melnos!”