Astonished and delighted, Maurice obeyed, leading the men up in person, to find that from the summit of the rock they could indeed obtain a side view of the top of Akri, and that the riflemen there were absolutely exposed. A few minutes made a gratifying difference in the state of affairs. The fire which had had such damaging results ceased entirely, the few survivors of the Roumi marksmen crawling away to huddle in the shelter of the ruins of the hermitage. Leaving his men to hold the rock, Maurice descended it to report.
“Thought so,” said Wylie. “Top of Akri slopes on that side—no cover. They must bring up sandbags before they can fire again—won’t do that till dark. Suppose you haven’t thought of sending for one of the Maxims?”
“No, indeed,” confessed Maurice. “Shall I take some of the men and fetch it?”
“Better. Not the one commanding the gateway—we may want that—the other. Prolong the agony a bit while the ammunition holds out—they’ll hardly face it. I’ll hold the fort here while you’re gone.”
Divided between relief at this unexpected accession of strength and anxiety for Wylie, Maurice departed on his errand. At the monastery he found that Eirene and Zoe had organised a corps of messengers,—small boys who were to bring periodical reports from the various possible landing-places,—and that at present there was no sign of a Roumi descent on any other point.
“Good reason,” growled Wylie, when he returned with the gun and told him of this. “They know that the paths leading to the monastery from Skandalo and Ephestilo are practically impassable in the face of any opposition at all. This path along the hills is the only hopeful one for an army.”
He spoke more easily, and now that the exhaustion caused by the rough ride was over, something of his ordinary alert look was returning. While Maurice was absent, he had directed the building of a rough shelter, a mere framework of loose stones, for the men working the Maxim, and it was now placed in position, commanding the path.
“Pure bluff,” he remarked. “They are bound to break the line somewhere if they keep on trying, but this gives us a slight moral advantage. They know that we can wipe out a good many of them when it comes to a final tussle, and therefore it may just make them willing to negotiate.”
“It’s come to that, then?” said Maurice.
Wylie nodded. “I gather from the men that Christodoridi has played the fool to some purpose. He has relieved us of more than half our fighting men, with their rifles and ammunition, and those we have left have been pouring out cartridges like water, to judge by the firing I heard at Ephestilo. We can’t go on long at that rate. Our food may hold out for two days, now that we have lost so many mouths, but not longer. Therefore it would be as well to make use of the two days.”