“Take one!” he said; “let me befriend you with one.”
He was still laughing, and he pushed his face close to hers as he spoke. Chryseis, who was rather dainty, shrank back a little, but the familiar words reassured her. The tagari evidently contained figs, or perhaps almonds; and she knew what an insult the peasants consider it, that one should refuse anything with which they offer to “befriend” you. So she stretched out her hand over the half-closed tagari, but drew back in alarm. It was full of earth and stones!
The man threw his head back and laughed loudly and discordantly.
Iason turned on him, like the little cock he had been called.
“Now then!” he cried, pushing the huge man violently, “now then! What foolishness is this? Leave us alone and go your way! Do you hear?” And when he raised his voice Pavlo thought it sounded just like the master of the Red House.
The shepherd’s laugh died off in a silly cackle, and he stood where Iason had pushed him, looking after the children as they climbed on rather hurriedly; but to Pavlo’s intense relief, he made no attempt to follow them.
“Who was it?” asked Andromache.
“I am not sure,” said Iason, “but I think it must be one of the Pelekas. His brother Yoryi had our pasture land for his sheep last year. I saw him when I went up to the ‘stania’[22] with father. They are all red-haired, and there are many brothers; but I do not know this one.”
“He was horrid!” said Chryseis, shifting her basket to her other arm; “he must have been drinking too much ‘ouzo.’ ”[23]
“Father says they never drink, these shepherds, except on big holidays when they come down to the villages,” said Iason, “but I suppose this one must have.”