“The Roumis are more enterprising than we thought them,” he said. “They are evidently sending a force up to act against the monastery from this side, so we shall have to change our route a little, and try to cross their line of march when they have passed.”
This meant a tedious working along the top of the slope among the bushes, ready to drop down under their shadow at a word, thus pursuing a course parallel with that of the advancing Roumis, but in the reverse direction. After a while, the friendly ridge sank into a confusion of hillocks and ravines, and here it was necessary to proceed even more carefully, since any moment might bring them face to face with Roumi stragglers who had taken a wrong turning in the dark. The danger was so great that Zeko bore away gradually more to the left, away from the line of march, despite the remonstrances of Wylie, who urged that they were getting into a region neither of them knew, and that it would be wiser to wait for a while, until the enemy was quite out of hearing. But Zeko was so confident of his ability to find his way, and so resolutely determined to keep moving, lest time should be wasted, that he still pressed on, leading his unfortunate charges such a dance, up hill and down dale, that it was with positive physical relief they heard him at last confess he did not know where he was, and that it would be well to wait for daylight before going farther, lest they should run into the midst of the enemy. They were now in a well-wooded, or rather well-bushed, ravine, and he suggested that they should conceal themselves in the undergrowth and snatch what rest they could. Wylie agreed perforce, for the long hours of scrambling had told upon him so much that he could scarcely stand, and he advised Zoe and Eirene to pull their head-handkerchiefs over their faces, so as to save themselves from scratches, and work their way in under the bushes. The guards were already doing this, and a sudden exclamation, followed by a string of prayers in a strange voice, made Wylie and Zeko angrily order silence.
“It is a man, lord!” they answered, crawling out again and dragging with them a dishevelled figure, who was gradually identified, when his terror had a little subsided, as a goatherd named Mikhaili. His hut was situated in these ravines, he told them, and thinking it was safe from molestation by reason of its solitude, he and his family had remained there instead of seeking refuge near the monastery, the more so since they were able to live as usual on the produce of their flock, which must have been given up into the common stock if they had joined the rest. But this night they had not ventured to remain indoors, for they had seen Roumis quite close at hand, and though they were far too much terrified to watch them continuously, they could hear them moving about, now in one direction, now in another. The hut had escaped notice in the darkness, he thought, but he and his wife and children were all hiding in the bushes, believing that it would certainly be discovered when daylight came.
“We seem to have blundered into the thick of them,” said Wylie, as cheerfully as he could. “Who would have thought of their making night marches all over the place like this? Well, we are quite hidden among these bushes, so I hope you ladies will get what sleep you can. We shall keep a good watch, so don’t be afraid.”
Anxious only to give as little trouble as possible, Zoe and Eirene obeyed, so far as lying down and trying to sleep went. But Zoe could not sleep, tired as she was, for she felt convinced that Wylie was keeping watch himself. At length she could bear the thought no longer, and wriggled to the entrance of her burrow, so that she could get a glimpse of him. As she had expected, he was sitting on a stone, with his rifle between his knees, but something strange in his attitude made her look at him more closely. He was crouched in a heap, his eyes wide open and glassy, and his hands had relaxed their hold in complete unconsciousness. Afraid to raise her voice to call Zeko, Zoe crawled out of her hole and took the rifle gently away without disturbing Wylie. He murmured a little incoherently when she tried to move him, and in terror lest he should cry out, she ventured to speak softly, hoping he would think he was in hospital again, and she a nurse.
“Let me help you to lie down more easily,” she said in a low voice. “I don’t think your pillow is comfortable, is it?”
She could not have moved him if he had remained obstinate, but with his own unconscious help she succeeded in getting him to lie down, with the stone for a pillow, and covering him with the cloak she had worn. Then she took the rifle, and set herself to keep watch in his place, unable, even in the circumstances of the moment, to restrain a bitter little smile at the thought, “How frightfully angry he would be if he knew!” To her great joy she felt no inclination for sleep, and she sat there, guarding the rest, and growing stiffer and stiffer with the night cold, until the first faint streaks of dawn appeared, and Zeko came crawling out from under the bushes. He expressed no surprise at finding her on guard, after her low-voiced explanation that the Lord Glafko was ill again. It was only suitable that women should keep watch while their protectors slept; in fact, it was all they could do to repay the kind care taken of them. Wylie was now in a natural sleep, and it went to Zoe’s heart to let Zeko wake him, which he did when she had crawled back into her burrow, but the few precious minutes of grey twilight must not be lost if they were to pass safely through this danger-zone. While Zeko went to the top of the hill to see if he could distinguish where they were, Wylie woke the other guards, and all were ready to start when the guide should return. There was a moment’s pause while Mikhaili crept up with an offering of goat’s-milk cheese, and a draught of milk in a leathern cup for little Constantine, and while the rest were eagerly consuming the gift of this Good Samaritan, Zeko, returning, drew Wylie aside and up the hill. There was a look of awe upon the ex-brigand’s face which Wylie did not understand until he had been bidden to kneel down and look through a gap between two rocks. On the other side of the hill, literally only a few yards from them, a number of Roumi soldiers lay asleep. Whether they were an outlying picket or stragglers from the larger force,—the confused way in which they were strewn about favoured this supposition,—the fact remained that the two parties had spent the night so near one another that a cry or an altercation in one camp must have roused its neighbour. Zeko, in a heart-felt whisper, vowed an extravagant gift of candles to the Prophet Elijah, patron saint of hills, for his services that night, and he and Wylie rejoined the rest. Mikhaili, warned of the nearness of the foe, and invited to call his wife and children and accompany the fugitives, refused to do so. Here they might hope to escape notice, he said, but the way to Ephestilo would lead from one danger to another. He put them in the right path—if that could be called a path which must avoid all tracks, since the Roumis might be making use of them—and they parted with mutual good wishes.
The sleeping Roumis were passed in safety, and for a while the way was uneventful, though rugged and difficult enough, while the bushes lasted, so convenient for concealment. But they ended suddenly, and the bare rocks made every movement of the party horribly conspicuous. Still, even in this change in the character of the country there was hope, since it showed they must be approaching the sea, and therefore Ephestilo, and Zoe and Eirene shook off their weariness and pressed on manfully. Thus they came to a height from which they could see the blue waters, and a sigh of relief broke from them. But between them and the sea there was still some distance to be traversed, and when they looked down on the country that lay beneath them, their hearts stood still. Everywhere twinkling darts of light as the sun sparkled on bayonet-points, everywhere dots of scarlet which betrayed themselves as red tarbushes.
“A cordon!” burst from Wylie. “They are hemming our people in. This means massacre.”
“Down, lord, down!” cried Zeko, dragging Wylie to his knees. “There are some of them behind us!”