“They knew that the Turkish provinces governed by Greek officials were much more heavily taxed and oppressed than those in which the Turks collected the taxation, and knew that the change would be, for them, very much for the worse. Except that they have the same religion, they have little in common with the Greeks in the mainland, and dreaded the thought of the Albanians, who would be sure to send over armed bands, who would harass and oppress them. Of course they have been for centuries under Turkish rule, and the island has certainly flourished exceedingly under it. Their trade has been almost entirely with Constantinople, and all their connections are Turkish. I can quite understand, therefore, their repugnance to a change which would ruin their trade and vastly increase their burdens; while, as to masters, I should imagine that no one in their senses could prefer Albanians to Turks.
“Seeing the storm coming, most of the wealthy Chiots have prepared in some way for it by sending much of their available capital, for safety, to correspondents abroad, or by investing in foreign securities. I believe that all these merchants have done so; and as the greater part of their money and valuables that remained are at present down in the hold, they will be able to live, if not in as great luxury as before, at any rate in comfort at Corfu, or wherever they may settle themselves; while several of them have told me that they intend again to embark in trade, and, if possible, under our flag. They have been asking me a good many questions about ourselves, and don’t seem at all able to comprehend the interest that the Greek revolution has created in Europe; still less that an Englishman like myself, who could live comfortably at home, should come out here to take part in a struggle that in no way concerns him.”
“What did you answer, father?” Horace asked with a slight smile.
“I told them that I was but half an Englishman, and that my mother was Greek, and that I was devoted to the study of the language and customs of the ancients.”
“I suppose they knew nothing about the ancients, father?”
“No,” Mr. Beveridge admitted reluctantly. “They had heard of the name of Homer, and had a vague sort of knowledge of the early history of Greece—about as vague as the ordinary Englishman has of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. An English school-boy of twelve knows more about ancient Greece than do nineteen Greeks out of twenty; though, seeing the interest felt by civilized Europe in the matter, it is the fashion among them now to pretend to feel great enthusiasm on the subject. No; I am not surprised at these poor people being cheerful, Horace. They have escaped the risk of a terrible fate; and as to patriotism, it is a feeling of which people who have been under foreign masters hundreds of years know absolutely nothing. They may regret their easy, quiet life in Chios; but beyond that, I think they have little feeling in the matter.”
The next morning, after breakfast, the sailors were exercised at the guns, three rounds being fired from each piece. Scarcely were the men dismissed from their quarters, and the guns secured, before the boatswain went up to Martyn.
“I beg your pardon, captain, but look over there. Do you see that white cloud?—how quick it rises. I know these seas, sir; and that is a white squall, or I am a Dutchman. We sha’n’t have more than three or four minutes before it is on us.”
“By Jove, you are right, Tom! All hands get off sail. Look smart, my lads; there is a bit of a squall coming down on us. Down topsails; in jibs. Miller, take six hands and get this awning off. Horace, get the ladies below at once.”