“It has indeed been a severe struggle,” replied Justinian sadly, “but now, thank God, it is over—at least, for a time; but, as sure as you stand there, Maurice, Caliphronas will come back with a fresh set of blackguards.”
“By that time, Crispin and his re-enforcements will have arrived, so we will soon be able to drive them back. Dick!”
“Yes, sir?”
“We must repair damages, and bury the dead.”
“Right, sir!”
It was about four o’clock in the afternoon when they began this task, and not until nightfall were the dead buried decently in shallow graves dug in the sea-shore sand. Papa Athanasius came down with all the women from the village, and read the service of the Greek Church over the remains of friend and foe alike, so that when the moon arose above the peaks of Melnos, there was no sign of a struggle having taken place, save in the battered barricade and the rent ground.
When all was completed, Justinian held a consultation with his nephew and Dick as to the probability of the foe returning soon, as, if there was a possibility of such an event happening, it would be unwise to leave the barrier unguarded. Ultimately, it was decided to leave sentries on guard, with cannon and muskets loaded, and Alexandros directed the search light full on the entrance of the harbor, so that in the event of the enemy returning, they could be seen before reaching shore, and the alarm given at once. Temistocles, who was still in good condition, as he had done no fighting, was left behind also, in order that if an attack were made, he might run to the Acropolis to alarm Justinian.
These arrangements having been made, the survivors of the fierce fighting returned to the village, in order to take the rest they so much needed. Loud were the wailings for the dead from the Melnosian women, many of whom were now alone in the world, and all that night, those sleeping in the Acropolis heard the sounds of bitter sorrow rising from the valley below. It had been a tough fight, many had been lost, and much damage had been done; still, the foe had been forced to retreat, and Melnos was still under the rule of the Demarch.
That night the leaders were all gathered round the supper-table, to make the first good meal they had tasted for days, and Helena and Zoe waited on them, for all the rest of the servants were down in the village looking after the wounded men. All of them looked worn out and haggard, for the strain, both physical and mental, had been something terrible; and even now, like Justinian, Maurice and Dick, gifted as they were with iron constitutions, were nearly broken down by the terrible experiences they had undergone.
“My poor Helena, you look fit to drop,” said Maurice tenderly, drawing her down beside him. “Rest yourself for a time, and do not be so afraid. All danger is now past.”