“Then he is the very fellow we want to get hold of,” Will Martyn said. “We had better have him in here and question him.”
The young Greek was brought in. He knew of several paths from the village down to the western shore.
“Now what sort of place is this village?” Captain Martyn asked.
“It stands at the top of rocky ground that slopes away all round it. There are vineyards and gardens among the rocks. Since the trouble in Greece began, the people have been frightened, and have built a wall five or six feet high round the village, and the Christians in all the villages round decided that if there was trouble from the Mussulmans they would go there to help defend it.”
“Is there high ground round the village?”
“Yes, the hills rise very high on three sides, but they are too far away for guns to do much harm; besides, the houses stand thickly together. My people will fight till the last, but I don’t know how long the provisions will last. I know they all made up their minds that if they were besieged and saw no hope of succour, they would at last kill all the women and children to prevent their being made slaves by the Turks, and then they would march out to fight until the last man was slain.”
“How long would it take us to get up from the shore to the village?”
“One can come down in an hour, but it takes three hours’ hard work to get up.”
“Could you after dark take us close to the point where one of these paths comes down to the shore?”