“It is quite possible,” he said, “that the Roumis may, under the influence of the Admirals, repeat their former offer of immunity for the common people if the leaders are given up. Our leaders have throughout been Prince Theophanis, Prince Christodoridi, and Colonel Wylie. I see no reason to put myself forward as a leader when I have enjoyed none of the privileges of leadership.”
“Perhaps you would prefer me to carry the offer in person?” suggested Maurice, unable to keep a hint of sarcasm out of his voice. “Only I fear that if the Roumis should refuse to recognise the flag of truce and seize me, you would have lost your chief asset without any equivalent.”
The usual scene of disorder ensued. Every one saw that it was out of the question for Maurice to go, but nobody wished to go himself. Finally some one suggested that the task would be a suitable one for a monk, and as the monks of Hagiamavra were known to have objected strenuously to the selection of their monastery as an insurgent stronghold, they might be able to obtain at least a hearing from Jalal-ud-din. The Hegoumenos, when the matter was laid before him by a deputation, was very naturally averse from compromising himself by doing anything to help his unwelcome guests out of their difficulties, but his objections were vigorously combated. If the insurgents continued to hold out, the monks must starve with them; while if the Roumis stormed the place, it was highly unlikely that they would be spared in the general slaughter, so that it was distinctly to their interest to bring about a settlement if possible. One of the officials of the monastery and a lay brother were at length chosen by lot to carry the proposal, which was signed by Maurice alone. The insurgent chiefs, in their new-born zeal for self-effacement, would not put their names to it, and he flatly refused to ask Wylie for his signature.
“Colonel Wylie is here as my servant,” he said, when the rest objected. “Prince Christodoridi and I have been your only leaders. Now I am left alone, but I need no one to share my responsibility.”
This attitude was so surprising that it inspired Lazar Nilischeff and his group with the suspicion that Maurice intended to purchase his own safety by betraying the insurgents. They insisted on the English stewards being called in and required suddenly to translate the offer of surrender, that they might be sure it contained no conditions of which they were ignorant, and they would not allow Maurice to hand it himself to the two monks, lest he should give them secret instructions. A month ago such behaviour on their part would have filled him with disgust, but to-day he submitted to their exactions with a patience that surprised them. They were like a wild animal in a trap, he realised, snapping desperately even at the hand which tries to release it.
There had been some doubt whether Jalal-ud-din, once out of sight of the Admirals, would recognise a flag of truce, but that run up on the breastwork which was held by Wylie and dominated by the Maxim was responded to by one from the Roumi line, and the two monks walked boldly out into the open. Their high caps and black robes crossed the space swept during the day by the fire of both parties, and disappeared into the Roumi lines, and those left behind resigned themselves to wait. It was not until after dark that the return of the ambassadors was announced by the approach of a party bearing a flag of truce, who left them midway across the open space and departed. The two old men were much shaken by their experience, though they had suffered no bodily harm. They had been taken before Jalal-ud-din himself, who had thundered out a demand for unconditional surrender, and refused even to listen to the suggestion of any other terms. Permission to communicate either with the Admirals or with the Consuls at Therma had been denied, but the only European in the camp, a Hercynian whose status did not appear to be exactly defined, had held out no hope of help from Europe. He would do his best to intercede for the lives of any of the inhabitants of the peninsula who were not taken with arms in their hands, but that was all; and the general impression gained from this conversation was that Europe would not be sorry to see the place swept clear by a general massacre, thus at once punishing past defiance and saving future trouble.
The truce was to remain in force until the next evening, to allow the insurgents time to discuss their hard case among themselves, and Maurice went down to the breastwork and carried Wylie off to the monastery almost by main force, dexterously depriving him of his last excuse by first sending for his possessions from Ephestilo. The hour that followed, spent under the shelter of impending doom, reminded the four who shared the recollection of an evening passed long ago in the brigands’ camp. Zoe and Eirene had not been told of the severe alternative which was all that was offered, but the prospect of surrender, even as prisoners of war, was painful enough in its destruction of all that they had lived for during the last few months. Still, each kept up for the sake of the rest, pretending all the while that it was for the sake of little Constantine, who clung to his father with a determination that appealed to Maurice as a kind of premonition, and could hardly be torn from him when bedtime came.
Troubles began early the next day. Maurice was roused by Wylie’s voice in the gallery, and going out, found him leaning on a stick and giving orders to his guards, who looked thoroughly frightened.
“What’s the matter?” asked Maurice, when the men had gone.
“Matter enough. The Roumis have broken the truce and pierced our line in the night. They are posted all along the deep gully between us and Ephestilo.”