“In the good old way, I presume. But, Zoe, I didn’t understand that the Admirals were actually occupying the peninsula. I thought they had Red Cross camps here and at Skandalo under the protection of the ships’ guns, and just a few armed sailors as sentries.”
Zoe looked astonished. “Oh no,” she said; “there is a joint European occupation—at least, on behalf of England and Neustria and Magnagrecia. The Roumis have garrisons at Skandalo and Karakula, and an entrenched camp near the monastery, but the Admirals are administering everything. That is what makes the Roumis so angry. You see, the expelled Mohammedans want to come back, but the Therma refugees are in their farms, and daren’t return to their own homes, so that there is an immense amount of pacification to be done.”
“Jalal-ud-din is pressing the return of the Mohammedans, and the Admirals are watching over the interests of the refugees?” said Wylie. “It seems to me that we were not the only people who rushed in where angels fear to tread. To snatch the Roumis’ prey from them when they were flushed with victory——”
“Oh, that is what makes the other Powers so angry with our Admirals,” said Zoe carelessly. “There have been riots at Therma, and Europeans were attacked in the streets. All the Consulates are guarded by troops.”
“Roumi troops?”
“No, troops of the different nationalities. A detachment of Highlanders is looking after Sir Frank Francis.”
“And the Powers are still talking? Zoe, if Admiral Essiter will take a word of advice from a condemned criminal, give him this message from me. Unless the Powers withdraw from Hagiamavra in a day or two, and give us up, look out for trouble. Let him get reinforcements from Malta, Egypt, anywhere he can, or the next Therma massacre will be of Europeans, not of Emathian Christians.”
“But do you really think there is danger? Every one says that the Roumis are getting insolent and talking big, but that it only needs a warship or two at Therma to make them sing small. And all sorts of people are coming here to see the sites of our battles, as if it was a show-place—horrid smart people, you know, flirting and having picnics where our men were killed. The Princess Dowager of Dardania is at Skandalo. I asked her to receive me, because I thought she might be some help, and she was very gracious, but she would promise nothing. She has Donna Olimpia Pazzi with her instead of her own lady-in-waiting, who she says got homesick and had to be sent back to Dardania. The girl looked at me with such an evil eye that I was glad to take the opportunity of mentioning about you and me, you know, so that she might see there was no need to be afraid for her dear Romanos. The Princess quite beamed when she heard it——”
“Zoe, do you know what they call that woman all over Europe? The Stormy Petrel! I should have thought something was brewing even if you hadn’t told me of the trouble in Therma. Give my message to the Admiral at the first possible moment, or you will be sorry for it all your life.”