Fortunately, in telling Velo of his escape from barracks, Zaidos did not go into details, so Velo did not know of the door through which Zaidos had crept. He had taken it for granted that he had slipped unnoticed through the door at which he himself was standing, and as he waited he momentarily expected his cousin to come hurrying up. Velo smiled. He hoped Zaidos would come. He wanted to be there when he tried to make his lame excuses for leaving the barracks in the face of the refusal to give him permission. Velo knew well that in the troubled times in which Greece found herself, no excuse would be accepted. It was desertion; and the fact of his return would not soften the offense. There was no place or time for punishment or imprisonment. Velo shuddered, but smiled evilly.
However, Zaidos did not appear, time passed, and finally the doors opened. Velo, very humble and apologetic, made his simple request that he should be allowed to speak with his cousin who was with the soldiers in the inner room. The request was granted, and with two soldiers he entered the room full of sleeping men. He went from cot to cot, making an idle examination of each face. He was waiting for the moment when he could turn to his escort and say, “He is not here.”
But there he was! Velo could not believe his senses. The soldiers, seeing that he had found his relative, turned back to the door, and Velo noiselessly knelt beside the sleeper. He stared long and curiously at the serene and open face. How he had returned was a mystery which maddened him. He was foiled for the present at least; but securing the coveted papers, he silently withdrew.
“Did you find him?” asked the young officer in charge, as Velo came up to his desk.
“Yes, thank you,” said Velo, “but he could not tell me what I wanted to know. I wanted tidings of a cousin, the son of Count Zaidos, who died last night.”
“Zaidos?” said the officer. “That’s the name of one of our recruits.”
“Yes, he is my cousin,” said Velo. “But not the one we want. This fellow in here is a lazy no-account, and the army is the best place for him, although I am sorry to say so.”
“Yes, the army nowadays is a good place for lazy-bones,” agreed the officer. A queer look came over his face. “We are picking up all the single men we can.” He leaned on the desk and spoke as one man to another. “You see we found that the army had to be doubled in short order and the only way to do it was to insist on compulsory enlistment. That’s the reason,” he continued calmly, “that you are now a private in the army of Greece.”
“Me? Oh, no!” said Velo hastily. “It is impossible. I—I—have other things to consider. You will have to excuse me, Captain.”
“I am Lieutenant,” said the officer, “but you will learn the difference in rank shortly.”