‘Yes, if I have put it right,’ said he; there was a touch of scorn in his voice that I did not care to hear. ‘Yes, it carries its own answer, if you are content to leave it as I stated it.’
‘Content! Good God!’
He drew nearer to me and whispered:
‘This morning he told her his purpose; this evening again – yes, now, while we talk – he is forcing it on her. And what help has she?’
‘She won’t let me help her; she won’t let me see her.’
‘How can you help her, you who do nothing but curse?’
‘Look here, Kortes,’ said I, ‘I know all that. I’m a fool and a worm and everything else you like to intimate; but your contempt doesn’t seem much more practical than my cursing. What’s in your mind?’
‘You must keep faith with this lady in your own land?’
‘You know of her?’
‘My sister has told me – she who waits on the Lady Euphrosyne.’
‘Ah! Yes, I must keep faith with her.’
‘And with Mouraki?’ he asked.
My mind travelled with his. I caught him eagerly by the arm. I had his idea in a moment.
‘Why that?’ I asked. ‘Yes, Kortes, why that?’
‘I thought you were so scrupulous, my lord.’
‘I have no scruples in deceiving this Mouraki.’
‘That’s better, my lord,’ he answered with a grim smile. ‘By heavens, I thought we were to dance together at the wedding!’
‘The wedding?’ I cried. ‘I think not. Kortes, do you mean – ?’ I made a gesture that indicated some violence to Mouraki; but I added, ‘It must be open fight though.’
‘You mustn’t touch a hair of his head. The island would answer bitterly for that.’
We stood in silence for a moment. Then I gave a short laugh.
‘My character is my own,’ said I. ‘I may blacken it if I like.’
‘It is only in the eyes of Mouraki Pasha,’ said Kortes with a smile.
‘But will she understand? There must be no more – ’
‘She will understand. You shall see her.’
‘You can contrive that?’
‘Yes, with my sister’s help. Will you tell Mouraki first?’
‘No – her first. She may refuse.’
‘She loathes him too much to refuse anything.’
‘Good. When, then?’
‘To-night. She will leave him soon.’
‘But he watches her to her room.’
‘Yes; but you, my lord, know that there is another way.’
‘Yes, yes; by the roof. The ladder?’
‘It shall be there for you in an hour.’
‘And you, Kortes?’
‘I’ll wait at the foot of it. The Pasha himself should not mount it alive.’
‘Kortes, it is trusting me much.’
‘I know, my lord. If you were not a man to be trusted you would do what you are going to pretend.’
‘I hope you’re right. Kortes, it sets me aflame now to be near her.’
‘Can’t I understand that, my lord?’ said he, with a sad smile.
‘By heaven, you’re a good fellow!’
‘I am a servant of the Stefanopouloi.’
‘Your sister will tell her before I come? I couldn’t tell her myself.’
‘Yes; she shall be told before you come.’
‘In an hour, then?’
‘Yes.’ And without another word, he strode by me. I caught his hand as he went, and pressed it. Then I was alone in the darkness again, but with a plan in my head and a weapon in my hand, and no more empty useless cursings in my mouth. Busily rehearsing the part I was to play, I resumed my quick pacing. It was a hard part, but a good part. I would match Mouraki with his own weapons; my cynicism should beat his, my indifference to the claims of honour overtop his shameless use of terror or of force. The smiles should now be not all the Pasha’s. I would have a smile too, one that would, I trusted, compel a scowl even from his smooth inscrutable face.
I was walking quickly; on a sudden I came almost in contact with a man, who leapt on one side to avoid me. ‘Who’s there?’ I cried, standing on my defence, as I had learnt was wise in Neopalia.
‘It is I, Demetri,’ answered a sullen voice.
‘What are you doing here, Demetri? And with your gun!’
‘I walk by night, like my lord.’