“Well, if I am not back by this time to-morrow, you must come and look for me. Sotīri! I shall not wait any longer.”
“Here, lord, here!” cried a panting voice, and a handsome boy in Greek dress dashed across the courtyard. His kapota was rolled up over one shoulder, but he seized the basket and Armitage’s gun. “My cousin kept me so long talking. Let me carry your coat too, lord. It can go over my other shoulder.”
“I will carry the basket, then. Be careful with the gun,” and Armitage passed out, followed by his henchman. They went through the streets of the town, exchanging greetings with the people they met, but Armitage noticed that Sotīri did not seem to be known personally to the Greeks who saluted him, for though his dress was a passport to their sympathies they looked curiously at his face. On the other side of the town the mountains frowned close above the houses, divided by a gorge down which flowed the torrent which provided the water-supply, and in a series of caves, natural or artificial, in the sides of this gorge the gipsies had sojourned from time immemorial. When they reached the foot of the path which led to the caves, Armitage stopped and called up the boy, who had managed to make himself almost invisible under his load of coats.
“Now, Sotīri, tell me what your cousin’s plan is. We are not to march up to the first cave we come to, and demand the Lord Harold, I suppose?”
“No, lord, we cannot hope to recover him till night. But we can find out where he is. Will you graciously ask to see the bear-cub that the gipsies offered for sale at the Konak yesterday, and offer to buy him? My cousin does not think they will be willing to sell him, but it is important we should see the cave in which the bears live.”
“Very well. Your voice is curiously like your cousin’s, Sotīri. You had better give me the gun while we are going up hill. It is too heavy for you.”
“Nay, lord, rather do you give me the basket. You must not judge my strength by Kalliopé’s,” cried the boy, with a gay laugh. “I have carried far heavier loads up worse hills than these. And it is unkind to compare my voice to a girl’s.”
“So it is, Sotīri. I beg your pardon. Well, in a year or two you will be able to laugh at the idea. Meanwhile I will stick to the basket. And be sure to stand where I can see you when I am talking to the gipsies, in case you want to make any sign to me.”
“As you will, lord.” Sotīri dropped behind again respectfully, and presently Armitage received confirmation of certain suspicions that had occurred to him. Missing the sound of the labouring breath behind him, he turned suddenly, to discover coats and gun on the ground, while with frantic haste Sotīri was twisting up a long plait of hair which had escaped from beneath his cap. Not having been seen, Armitage allowed himself a smile, and went on a step or two.
“Do you find it too heavy, Sotīri?” he called out, without turning round.