Zeko and his companion, who had begun to murmur, were appeased on hearing this, and withdrew to discuss the matter with their comrades, while the chief and Milosch strode out again. Zoe grasped Maurice’s arm and drew him aside.
“Why didn’t you say you had no idea of it?” she asked indignantly.
“How could I give her away? It sounds so insane of her to have tried to deceive even us.”
“You think only of her. Don’t you see they believe that Captain Wylie knew, and deliberately took a false oath?”
“Oh, nonsense! how could they? But I don’t quite see what I could do now, anyhow. They wouldn’t believe me if I explained.”
“No, you have done the mischief—you and Eirene between you,” said Zoe bitterly. “I suppose you will both be convinced now that Vlasto was a spy?”
No further reference was made to the matter, for Eirene, realising what she had done, shrank painfully from any approach to it, but the prisoners found themselves regarded with deep suspicion. They were not allowed to move outside the church unescorted, or to enter the forest at all, and two additional sentries, with rifles which they loaded ostentatiously, kept guard on the sanctuary steps at night, one on each side of Maurice. Zeko and one or two others, who had shown some approach to friendliness, now scowled whenever their eyes fell on the captives, and most ominous of all, Milosch went about bubbling over with malicious and irrepressible glee. Thus a week went by, until it was the day before that appointed for the ransom and the release. Once more the prisoners were ordered to collect their belongings for a march, and they obeyed with fast-beating hearts. Was freedom before them at last?
Leaving the ruined church, they spent the morning on the rugged tracks to which they were now becoming accustomed, climbing up and down and winding round mountain-shoulders in a seemingly purposeless way. At noon they sheltered in a cave, while two of the brigands went on, apparently to spy out the land. About an hour later these men returned, in a state of great excitement, and much talking and discussion ensued. Finally Stoyan vouchsafed to tell the prisoners that they would not march again until dark, and this for a sufficiently disquieting reason. By the road they had been taking it was necessary to pass through the district terrorised by a rival chief, of the name of Kayo, and his band, and it had only been chosen because it was the nearest way, and because Kayo was believed to be busy besieging a recalcitrant Greek notable at the farther end of his territory. But it appeared that he had become aware of the fact that the ransom was about to be paid, and he was on the watch for Stoyan and his band, intending either to capture the prisoners from him, and secure the money for himself, or at least to enforce a division of the spoil. It was necessary, therefore, to turn back and take a more roundabout way, which would occupy at least two days more than the other. In spite of his bitter disappointment, Maurice could not but realise the reasonableness of Stoyan’s contention that if there was a fight between the two bands, the girls were very likely to come off badly, while they would not suffer from the extra journey, since he had succeeded in procuring horses for them. Maurice suggested that Wylie would be made very anxious by the non-appearance of his friends, but received the assurance that a message would be despatched to him through the country people, and that he need not pay over the ransom until he was satisfied. The girls resigned themselves to the inevitable, when Maurice brought them the news, with as good grace as they could, and rested during the afternoon in preparation for the night journey, having learnt, among other things, to utilise every opportunity for repose that offered itself while on the march.
At dusk the two men stole out again and brought back the horses, or rather ponies, and as soon as the girls were mounted the party set out, proceeding at first very slowly, and with intense caution. By the time the moon rose they were far enough from Kayo’s boundaries to be able to move on at a good pace, though the track was so narrow, and the precipices so steep, that the girls found it more comfortable to shut their eyes, and leave the guidance of their steeds to the brigands who led them. They were tired and thoroughly chilled when the moonlight began to fail them, and welcomed the decision of Stoyan that he could not find the way in this unfamiliar region in the dark. A halt was called on a shelf of rock—a mere widening of the track—and the girls lay down on their rugs on the inner side, sheltered by the horses from the biting wind, and Maurice and the brigands on the track itself. Hard rock and sharp stones vied with the cold in making their resting-place uncomfortable, but they succeeded in getting a little sleep, and were ready to go on in the morning. It was now necessary, they were told, for them to be blindfolded again, as they were about to pass through a passage in the mountains which the brigands were all pledged not to show to any eyes but their own, and to this they submitted. But when Milosch produced a cake of beeswax from his bag, and ordered them to stop their ears as well, they rebelled.
“We spare you fright,” he asserted. “Zere is Roumi garrison in front. If you hear ze drum, you scream, and zat betray us all. Wiz ears obstructed, you hear nossing.”