IXAnd yet, had he but known it, that was very nearly what had happened. When Mattina, worn out with crying, had sunk down on the floor against the door, sobbing out every now and then, “My mother, my manitsa,” she suddenly heard a very low muffled knocking which seemed to come from the other side of the room. At first she took no heed. It was someone, she supposed, in the next house; she had often heard people moving there. But it came again, a soft little knock repeated twice; then her name just whispered.“Mattina! Mattina! Are you there?”The voice was Kyra Polyxene’s, she was quite sure, but from where did it come? She crossed the little room. The knock was quite clear now.“Mattina!”“But where are you, Kyra Polyxene?”“Now you will see; can you hear what I say?”“Yes, I hear you.”“Move your mattress!”“What did you say?”“I dare not speak any louder; move your mattress away from the wall!”Mattina seized hold of the heavy straw mattress with both hands, and dragged it aside.“Have you done it?”“Yes.”Then slowly, very slowly, a narrow door painted exactly the same color as the rest of the room, with no handle, no crack even to show its outline or to distinguish it from the surrounding wall, a door which Mattina had certainly never seen before, was pushed open from the other side and Kyra Polyxene’s kind old face appeared in the opening.“Not a word!” she whispered, with a finger on her lips. “Not a word for your life! Come!”Mattina was very bewildered.“Where shall I come? How did you get in?”“Hush! Lest they hear us from below. Once this was all one big house, and when they made it two, they left this door. It wasall painted over, and no one knew; but I remembered. Wait!” and she came right in. “Give me your coverlet! See I will hang it over the opening, so … because now that I have opened the door, when it is light they will see that the paint has cracked. And before that lazy mistress of yours takes the coverlet down to shake it, many days will pass. Come! Why are you waiting?”“Kyra Polyxene,” said Mattina, “they all tell lies! I never saw their money!”“And for that, will you stay here and let them take you and lock you in prison?”There was a loud knocking at the door below.Mattina clung desperately to Kyra Polyxene’s skirts.“Do you hear?”“I hear,” said the old woman grimly. “Come, I tell you! Come!”She pushed Mattina first through the half-open door and followed, closing it softly behind her and turning a rusty key on the other side. They were standing in a small dark room filled with cases and lighted by one candle. Kyra Polyxene took up the candle. Then sheclasped Mattina’s hand tightly in hers, and together, treading very softly, they crossed a long narrow passage outside the room, passed through a glass door, went down a flight of stone steps into a cellar where piles of wood were stacked, and then went up three or four steps again to a little back door that opened on the pavement.The night air that blew in their faces felt fresh and cool.“Listen, my daughter!” said the old woman. “Now you go straight to your uncle’s house! You know the way. If to-morrow dawns well, I will come and tell you what is happening. Go! Run! And the Holy Virgin be with you!”At that moment loud voices came to them from the open window of the house which they had just left. Mattina thought she caught her name, and then she heard her master say very distinctly:—“Go upstairs, now!…” but she did not hear the end of the sentence.The men of the police must have come, and they were going upstairs to look for her!Without a word, she dragged her hand fromthe old woman’s and ran wildly down the dark street.She ran on and on, panting, stumbling, falling, picking herself up again, her plaits of hair which had come loose in the struggle with her mistress flying behind her. When she came out to the Piræus Road, where a few people were still about, she stopped, and leaning against a lamp post, tried with trembling fingers to tie up her hair.To her uncle’s! No! She would not go there!She had not had time to explain to Kyra Polyxene that her master knew where the baker’s shop was. He had asked her one day. And of course it was there they would search for her at once. No, no! Not to her uncle’s! But where then? Where?She tried hard to remember where Antigone had said that her brother lived. Perhapsshewould hide her; she knew how bad mistresses could be! But try as she would, she could not remember. Athens names were all new and strange to her.And there was no one else.Perhaps she could walk about all night, orsit down on a bench? But when it dawned, what then? Suddenly she heard running steps in the street behind her and loud voices, … men’s voices. Was the one her master’s? She looked wildly round like a trapped thing and once more started running, as she had never run before, down the middle of the broad road. Every moment it seemed as if a hand were grasping her shoulder. She flew past the lighted grocer’s shop where they might know her, and her head struck against the open shutter, but she did not feel the pain. On she ran, her breath coming in loud gasps, and great throbs beating in her throat. She heard steps again …. Were they behind her?Suddenly, under a lamp post, she came into violent contact with a big man, who was walking leisurely before her, his hands crossed behind his back, fiddling with a short string of black beads.He caught hold of the lamp post to save himself from falling and turned round.“Who falls in this way on people? Have you gone mad, my girl? One would think someone was hunting you.”It was a Poros voice, and Mattina clung desperatelyto the baggy blue breeches of Thanassi Nika, as the old sea-captain bent over her.“They are! They are!” she cried wildly, “theyarehunting me! Save me! Save me! And may all your dead become saints!”“Why? Why? What is happening here? Are you not Aristoteli Dorri’s daughter? Who is hunting you?”“The people of the house; the master … the mistress … they have called the men of the police; they will put me in prison!”“What have you done?” asked the old man sharply.“I have done nothing. On the soul of my father, I have taken nothing of theirs. But money was lost, and they say I took it. Save me! Take me from here!”Capetan Thanassi looked up and down the road.Farther up towards the grocer’s shop two or three men seemed hurrying towards them, but just at that moment a bright light flashed in their eyes, and a street car going to the square came to a stop a few paces away.The old man lifted Mattina bodily to the step and followed her. The little platform wascrowded, and as they stood there tightly wedged between many people, he put his finger on his lips so that Mattina should keep silent. Almost at once in the big lighted square they got down again, and before Mattina had time to think where they might be going, she had been run across the road, down a broad street, through a crowded waiting-room, down an endless flight of stone steps, and was seated once more in a railway carriage, which started almost as soon as Capetan Thanassi threw himself down puffing and panting on the seat beside her.“Well,” he said, wiping his forehead with a big red handkerchief, “it is not a good thing to be hunted and to run; but to let these Athenians, here, seize hold of Aristoteli Dorri’s daughter, and call her a thief! That could not be! Now, listen to me, little one! If you have done anything crooked, that is between God and your soul, but for me it is sufficient that I knew your father. My caique28leaves to-night, now, with the turn of the wind. I shall put you in it and take you back to your own country, and once there,… we shall see what can be done.”Mattina had seized his hand and was kissing it.“To my own island? To Poros? God make your years many, Capetan Thanassi, for this that you are doing for me!”
IXAnd yet, had he but known it, that was very nearly what had happened. When Mattina, worn out with crying, had sunk down on the floor against the door, sobbing out every now and then, “My mother, my manitsa,” she suddenly heard a very low muffled knocking which seemed to come from the other side of the room. At first she took no heed. It was someone, she supposed, in the next house; she had often heard people moving there. But it came again, a soft little knock repeated twice; then her name just whispered.“Mattina! Mattina! Are you there?”The voice was Kyra Polyxene’s, she was quite sure, but from where did it come? She crossed the little room. The knock was quite clear now.“Mattina!”“But where are you, Kyra Polyxene?”“Now you will see; can you hear what I say?”“Yes, I hear you.”“Move your mattress!”“What did you say?”“I dare not speak any louder; move your mattress away from the wall!”Mattina seized hold of the heavy straw mattress with both hands, and dragged it aside.“Have you done it?”“Yes.”Then slowly, very slowly, a narrow door painted exactly the same color as the rest of the room, with no handle, no crack even to show its outline or to distinguish it from the surrounding wall, a door which Mattina had certainly never seen before, was pushed open from the other side and Kyra Polyxene’s kind old face appeared in the opening.“Not a word!” she whispered, with a finger on her lips. “Not a word for your life! Come!”Mattina was very bewildered.“Where shall I come? How did you get in?”“Hush! Lest they hear us from below. Once this was all one big house, and when they made it two, they left this door. It wasall painted over, and no one knew; but I remembered. Wait!” and she came right in. “Give me your coverlet! See I will hang it over the opening, so … because now that I have opened the door, when it is light they will see that the paint has cracked. And before that lazy mistress of yours takes the coverlet down to shake it, many days will pass. Come! Why are you waiting?”“Kyra Polyxene,” said Mattina, “they all tell lies! I never saw their money!”“And for that, will you stay here and let them take you and lock you in prison?”There was a loud knocking at the door below.Mattina clung desperately to Kyra Polyxene’s skirts.“Do you hear?”“I hear,” said the old woman grimly. “Come, I tell you! Come!”She pushed Mattina first through the half-open door and followed, closing it softly behind her and turning a rusty key on the other side. They were standing in a small dark room filled with cases and lighted by one candle. Kyra Polyxene took up the candle. Then sheclasped Mattina’s hand tightly in hers, and together, treading very softly, they crossed a long narrow passage outside the room, passed through a glass door, went down a flight of stone steps into a cellar where piles of wood were stacked, and then went up three or four steps again to a little back door that opened on the pavement.The night air that blew in their faces felt fresh and cool.“Listen, my daughter!” said the old woman. “Now you go straight to your uncle’s house! You know the way. If to-morrow dawns well, I will come and tell you what is happening. Go! Run! And the Holy Virgin be with you!”At that moment loud voices came to them from the open window of the house which they had just left. Mattina thought she caught her name, and then she heard her master say very distinctly:—“Go upstairs, now!…” but she did not hear the end of the sentence.The men of the police must have come, and they were going upstairs to look for her!Without a word, she dragged her hand fromthe old woman’s and ran wildly down the dark street.She ran on and on, panting, stumbling, falling, picking herself up again, her plaits of hair which had come loose in the struggle with her mistress flying behind her. When she came out to the Piræus Road, where a few people were still about, she stopped, and leaning against a lamp post, tried with trembling fingers to tie up her hair.To her uncle’s! No! She would not go there!She had not had time to explain to Kyra Polyxene that her master knew where the baker’s shop was. He had asked her one day. And of course it was there they would search for her at once. No, no! Not to her uncle’s! But where then? Where?She tried hard to remember where Antigone had said that her brother lived. Perhapsshewould hide her; she knew how bad mistresses could be! But try as she would, she could not remember. Athens names were all new and strange to her.And there was no one else.Perhaps she could walk about all night, orsit down on a bench? But when it dawned, what then? Suddenly she heard running steps in the street behind her and loud voices, … men’s voices. Was the one her master’s? She looked wildly round like a trapped thing and once more started running, as she had never run before, down the middle of the broad road. Every moment it seemed as if a hand were grasping her shoulder. She flew past the lighted grocer’s shop where they might know her, and her head struck against the open shutter, but she did not feel the pain. On she ran, her breath coming in loud gasps, and great throbs beating in her throat. She heard steps again …. Were they behind her?Suddenly, under a lamp post, she came into violent contact with a big man, who was walking leisurely before her, his hands crossed behind his back, fiddling with a short string of black beads.He caught hold of the lamp post to save himself from falling and turned round.“Who falls in this way on people? Have you gone mad, my girl? One would think someone was hunting you.”It was a Poros voice, and Mattina clung desperatelyto the baggy blue breeches of Thanassi Nika, as the old sea-captain bent over her.“They are! They are!” she cried wildly, “theyarehunting me! Save me! Save me! And may all your dead become saints!”“Why? Why? What is happening here? Are you not Aristoteli Dorri’s daughter? Who is hunting you?”“The people of the house; the master … the mistress … they have called the men of the police; they will put me in prison!”“What have you done?” asked the old man sharply.“I have done nothing. On the soul of my father, I have taken nothing of theirs. But money was lost, and they say I took it. Save me! Take me from here!”Capetan Thanassi looked up and down the road.Farther up towards the grocer’s shop two or three men seemed hurrying towards them, but just at that moment a bright light flashed in their eyes, and a street car going to the square came to a stop a few paces away.The old man lifted Mattina bodily to the step and followed her. The little platform wascrowded, and as they stood there tightly wedged between many people, he put his finger on his lips so that Mattina should keep silent. Almost at once in the big lighted square they got down again, and before Mattina had time to think where they might be going, she had been run across the road, down a broad street, through a crowded waiting-room, down an endless flight of stone steps, and was seated once more in a railway carriage, which started almost as soon as Capetan Thanassi threw himself down puffing and panting on the seat beside her.“Well,” he said, wiping his forehead with a big red handkerchief, “it is not a good thing to be hunted and to run; but to let these Athenians, here, seize hold of Aristoteli Dorri’s daughter, and call her a thief! That could not be! Now, listen to me, little one! If you have done anything crooked, that is between God and your soul, but for me it is sufficient that I knew your father. My caique28leaves to-night, now, with the turn of the wind. I shall put you in it and take you back to your own country, and once there,… we shall see what can be done.”Mattina had seized his hand and was kissing it.“To my own island? To Poros? God make your years many, Capetan Thanassi, for this that you are doing for me!”
IXAnd yet, had he but known it, that was very nearly what had happened. When Mattina, worn out with crying, had sunk down on the floor against the door, sobbing out every now and then, “My mother, my manitsa,” she suddenly heard a very low muffled knocking which seemed to come from the other side of the room. At first she took no heed. It was someone, she supposed, in the next house; she had often heard people moving there. But it came again, a soft little knock repeated twice; then her name just whispered.“Mattina! Mattina! Are you there?”The voice was Kyra Polyxene’s, she was quite sure, but from where did it come? She crossed the little room. The knock was quite clear now.“Mattina!”“But where are you, Kyra Polyxene?”“Now you will see; can you hear what I say?”“Yes, I hear you.”“Move your mattress!”“What did you say?”“I dare not speak any louder; move your mattress away from the wall!”Mattina seized hold of the heavy straw mattress with both hands, and dragged it aside.“Have you done it?”“Yes.”Then slowly, very slowly, a narrow door painted exactly the same color as the rest of the room, with no handle, no crack even to show its outline or to distinguish it from the surrounding wall, a door which Mattina had certainly never seen before, was pushed open from the other side and Kyra Polyxene’s kind old face appeared in the opening.“Not a word!” she whispered, with a finger on her lips. “Not a word for your life! Come!”Mattina was very bewildered.“Where shall I come? How did you get in?”“Hush! Lest they hear us from below. Once this was all one big house, and when they made it two, they left this door. It wasall painted over, and no one knew; but I remembered. Wait!” and she came right in. “Give me your coverlet! See I will hang it over the opening, so … because now that I have opened the door, when it is light they will see that the paint has cracked. And before that lazy mistress of yours takes the coverlet down to shake it, many days will pass. Come! Why are you waiting?”“Kyra Polyxene,” said Mattina, “they all tell lies! I never saw their money!”“And for that, will you stay here and let them take you and lock you in prison?”There was a loud knocking at the door below.Mattina clung desperately to Kyra Polyxene’s skirts.“Do you hear?”“I hear,” said the old woman grimly. “Come, I tell you! Come!”She pushed Mattina first through the half-open door and followed, closing it softly behind her and turning a rusty key on the other side. They were standing in a small dark room filled with cases and lighted by one candle. Kyra Polyxene took up the candle. Then sheclasped Mattina’s hand tightly in hers, and together, treading very softly, they crossed a long narrow passage outside the room, passed through a glass door, went down a flight of stone steps into a cellar where piles of wood were stacked, and then went up three or four steps again to a little back door that opened on the pavement.The night air that blew in their faces felt fresh and cool.“Listen, my daughter!” said the old woman. “Now you go straight to your uncle’s house! You know the way. If to-morrow dawns well, I will come and tell you what is happening. Go! Run! And the Holy Virgin be with you!”At that moment loud voices came to them from the open window of the house which they had just left. Mattina thought she caught her name, and then she heard her master say very distinctly:—“Go upstairs, now!…” but she did not hear the end of the sentence.The men of the police must have come, and they were going upstairs to look for her!Without a word, she dragged her hand fromthe old woman’s and ran wildly down the dark street.She ran on and on, panting, stumbling, falling, picking herself up again, her plaits of hair which had come loose in the struggle with her mistress flying behind her. When she came out to the Piræus Road, where a few people were still about, she stopped, and leaning against a lamp post, tried with trembling fingers to tie up her hair.To her uncle’s! No! She would not go there!She had not had time to explain to Kyra Polyxene that her master knew where the baker’s shop was. He had asked her one day. And of course it was there they would search for her at once. No, no! Not to her uncle’s! But where then? Where?She tried hard to remember where Antigone had said that her brother lived. Perhapsshewould hide her; she knew how bad mistresses could be! But try as she would, she could not remember. Athens names were all new and strange to her.And there was no one else.Perhaps she could walk about all night, orsit down on a bench? But when it dawned, what then? Suddenly she heard running steps in the street behind her and loud voices, … men’s voices. Was the one her master’s? She looked wildly round like a trapped thing and once more started running, as she had never run before, down the middle of the broad road. Every moment it seemed as if a hand were grasping her shoulder. She flew past the lighted grocer’s shop where they might know her, and her head struck against the open shutter, but she did not feel the pain. On she ran, her breath coming in loud gasps, and great throbs beating in her throat. She heard steps again …. Were they behind her?Suddenly, under a lamp post, she came into violent contact with a big man, who was walking leisurely before her, his hands crossed behind his back, fiddling with a short string of black beads.He caught hold of the lamp post to save himself from falling and turned round.“Who falls in this way on people? Have you gone mad, my girl? One would think someone was hunting you.”It was a Poros voice, and Mattina clung desperatelyto the baggy blue breeches of Thanassi Nika, as the old sea-captain bent over her.“They are! They are!” she cried wildly, “theyarehunting me! Save me! Save me! And may all your dead become saints!”“Why? Why? What is happening here? Are you not Aristoteli Dorri’s daughter? Who is hunting you?”“The people of the house; the master … the mistress … they have called the men of the police; they will put me in prison!”“What have you done?” asked the old man sharply.“I have done nothing. On the soul of my father, I have taken nothing of theirs. But money was lost, and they say I took it. Save me! Take me from here!”Capetan Thanassi looked up and down the road.Farther up towards the grocer’s shop two or three men seemed hurrying towards them, but just at that moment a bright light flashed in their eyes, and a street car going to the square came to a stop a few paces away.The old man lifted Mattina bodily to the step and followed her. The little platform wascrowded, and as they stood there tightly wedged between many people, he put his finger on his lips so that Mattina should keep silent. Almost at once in the big lighted square they got down again, and before Mattina had time to think where they might be going, she had been run across the road, down a broad street, through a crowded waiting-room, down an endless flight of stone steps, and was seated once more in a railway carriage, which started almost as soon as Capetan Thanassi threw himself down puffing and panting on the seat beside her.“Well,” he said, wiping his forehead with a big red handkerchief, “it is not a good thing to be hunted and to run; but to let these Athenians, here, seize hold of Aristoteli Dorri’s daughter, and call her a thief! That could not be! Now, listen to me, little one! If you have done anything crooked, that is between God and your soul, but for me it is sufficient that I knew your father. My caique28leaves to-night, now, with the turn of the wind. I shall put you in it and take you back to your own country, and once there,… we shall see what can be done.”Mattina had seized his hand and was kissing it.“To my own island? To Poros? God make your years many, Capetan Thanassi, for this that you are doing for me!”
IXAnd yet, had he but known it, that was very nearly what had happened. When Mattina, worn out with crying, had sunk down on the floor against the door, sobbing out every now and then, “My mother, my manitsa,” she suddenly heard a very low muffled knocking which seemed to come from the other side of the room. At first she took no heed. It was someone, she supposed, in the next house; she had often heard people moving there. But it came again, a soft little knock repeated twice; then her name just whispered.“Mattina! Mattina! Are you there?”The voice was Kyra Polyxene’s, she was quite sure, but from where did it come? She crossed the little room. The knock was quite clear now.“Mattina!”“But where are you, Kyra Polyxene?”“Now you will see; can you hear what I say?”“Yes, I hear you.”“Move your mattress!”“What did you say?”“I dare not speak any louder; move your mattress away from the wall!”Mattina seized hold of the heavy straw mattress with both hands, and dragged it aside.“Have you done it?”“Yes.”Then slowly, very slowly, a narrow door painted exactly the same color as the rest of the room, with no handle, no crack even to show its outline or to distinguish it from the surrounding wall, a door which Mattina had certainly never seen before, was pushed open from the other side and Kyra Polyxene’s kind old face appeared in the opening.“Not a word!” she whispered, with a finger on her lips. “Not a word for your life! Come!”Mattina was very bewildered.“Where shall I come? How did you get in?”“Hush! Lest they hear us from below. Once this was all one big house, and when they made it two, they left this door. It wasall painted over, and no one knew; but I remembered. Wait!” and she came right in. “Give me your coverlet! See I will hang it over the opening, so … because now that I have opened the door, when it is light they will see that the paint has cracked. And before that lazy mistress of yours takes the coverlet down to shake it, many days will pass. Come! Why are you waiting?”“Kyra Polyxene,” said Mattina, “they all tell lies! I never saw their money!”“And for that, will you stay here and let them take you and lock you in prison?”There was a loud knocking at the door below.Mattina clung desperately to Kyra Polyxene’s skirts.“Do you hear?”“I hear,” said the old woman grimly. “Come, I tell you! Come!”She pushed Mattina first through the half-open door and followed, closing it softly behind her and turning a rusty key on the other side. They were standing in a small dark room filled with cases and lighted by one candle. Kyra Polyxene took up the candle. Then sheclasped Mattina’s hand tightly in hers, and together, treading very softly, they crossed a long narrow passage outside the room, passed through a glass door, went down a flight of stone steps into a cellar where piles of wood were stacked, and then went up three or four steps again to a little back door that opened on the pavement.The night air that blew in their faces felt fresh and cool.“Listen, my daughter!” said the old woman. “Now you go straight to your uncle’s house! You know the way. If to-morrow dawns well, I will come and tell you what is happening. Go! Run! And the Holy Virgin be with you!”At that moment loud voices came to them from the open window of the house which they had just left. Mattina thought she caught her name, and then she heard her master say very distinctly:—“Go upstairs, now!…” but she did not hear the end of the sentence.The men of the police must have come, and they were going upstairs to look for her!Without a word, she dragged her hand fromthe old woman’s and ran wildly down the dark street.She ran on and on, panting, stumbling, falling, picking herself up again, her plaits of hair which had come loose in the struggle with her mistress flying behind her. When she came out to the Piræus Road, where a few people were still about, she stopped, and leaning against a lamp post, tried with trembling fingers to tie up her hair.To her uncle’s! No! She would not go there!She had not had time to explain to Kyra Polyxene that her master knew where the baker’s shop was. He had asked her one day. And of course it was there they would search for her at once. No, no! Not to her uncle’s! But where then? Where?She tried hard to remember where Antigone had said that her brother lived. Perhapsshewould hide her; she knew how bad mistresses could be! But try as she would, she could not remember. Athens names were all new and strange to her.And there was no one else.Perhaps she could walk about all night, orsit down on a bench? But when it dawned, what then? Suddenly she heard running steps in the street behind her and loud voices, … men’s voices. Was the one her master’s? She looked wildly round like a trapped thing and once more started running, as she had never run before, down the middle of the broad road. Every moment it seemed as if a hand were grasping her shoulder. She flew past the lighted grocer’s shop where they might know her, and her head struck against the open shutter, but she did not feel the pain. On she ran, her breath coming in loud gasps, and great throbs beating in her throat. She heard steps again …. Were they behind her?Suddenly, under a lamp post, she came into violent contact with a big man, who was walking leisurely before her, his hands crossed behind his back, fiddling with a short string of black beads.He caught hold of the lamp post to save himself from falling and turned round.“Who falls in this way on people? Have you gone mad, my girl? One would think someone was hunting you.”It was a Poros voice, and Mattina clung desperatelyto the baggy blue breeches of Thanassi Nika, as the old sea-captain bent over her.“They are! They are!” she cried wildly, “theyarehunting me! Save me! Save me! And may all your dead become saints!”“Why? Why? What is happening here? Are you not Aristoteli Dorri’s daughter? Who is hunting you?”“The people of the house; the master … the mistress … they have called the men of the police; they will put me in prison!”“What have you done?” asked the old man sharply.“I have done nothing. On the soul of my father, I have taken nothing of theirs. But money was lost, and they say I took it. Save me! Take me from here!”Capetan Thanassi looked up and down the road.Farther up towards the grocer’s shop two or three men seemed hurrying towards them, but just at that moment a bright light flashed in their eyes, and a street car going to the square came to a stop a few paces away.The old man lifted Mattina bodily to the step and followed her. The little platform wascrowded, and as they stood there tightly wedged between many people, he put his finger on his lips so that Mattina should keep silent. Almost at once in the big lighted square they got down again, and before Mattina had time to think where they might be going, she had been run across the road, down a broad street, through a crowded waiting-room, down an endless flight of stone steps, and was seated once more in a railway carriage, which started almost as soon as Capetan Thanassi threw himself down puffing and panting on the seat beside her.“Well,” he said, wiping his forehead with a big red handkerchief, “it is not a good thing to be hunted and to run; but to let these Athenians, here, seize hold of Aristoteli Dorri’s daughter, and call her a thief! That could not be! Now, listen to me, little one! If you have done anything crooked, that is between God and your soul, but for me it is sufficient that I knew your father. My caique28leaves to-night, now, with the turn of the wind. I shall put you in it and take you back to your own country, and once there,… we shall see what can be done.”Mattina had seized his hand and was kissing it.“To my own island? To Poros? God make your years many, Capetan Thanassi, for this that you are doing for me!”
IX
And yet, had he but known it, that was very nearly what had happened. When Mattina, worn out with crying, had sunk down on the floor against the door, sobbing out every now and then, “My mother, my manitsa,” she suddenly heard a very low muffled knocking which seemed to come from the other side of the room. At first she took no heed. It was someone, she supposed, in the next house; she had often heard people moving there. But it came again, a soft little knock repeated twice; then her name just whispered.“Mattina! Mattina! Are you there?”The voice was Kyra Polyxene’s, she was quite sure, but from where did it come? She crossed the little room. The knock was quite clear now.“Mattina!”“But where are you, Kyra Polyxene?”“Now you will see; can you hear what I say?”“Yes, I hear you.”“Move your mattress!”“What did you say?”“I dare not speak any louder; move your mattress away from the wall!”Mattina seized hold of the heavy straw mattress with both hands, and dragged it aside.“Have you done it?”“Yes.”Then slowly, very slowly, a narrow door painted exactly the same color as the rest of the room, with no handle, no crack even to show its outline or to distinguish it from the surrounding wall, a door which Mattina had certainly never seen before, was pushed open from the other side and Kyra Polyxene’s kind old face appeared in the opening.“Not a word!” she whispered, with a finger on her lips. “Not a word for your life! Come!”Mattina was very bewildered.“Where shall I come? How did you get in?”“Hush! Lest they hear us from below. Once this was all one big house, and when they made it two, they left this door. It wasall painted over, and no one knew; but I remembered. Wait!” and she came right in. “Give me your coverlet! See I will hang it over the opening, so … because now that I have opened the door, when it is light they will see that the paint has cracked. And before that lazy mistress of yours takes the coverlet down to shake it, many days will pass. Come! Why are you waiting?”“Kyra Polyxene,” said Mattina, “they all tell lies! I never saw their money!”“And for that, will you stay here and let them take you and lock you in prison?”There was a loud knocking at the door below.Mattina clung desperately to Kyra Polyxene’s skirts.“Do you hear?”“I hear,” said the old woman grimly. “Come, I tell you! Come!”She pushed Mattina first through the half-open door and followed, closing it softly behind her and turning a rusty key on the other side. They were standing in a small dark room filled with cases and lighted by one candle. Kyra Polyxene took up the candle. Then sheclasped Mattina’s hand tightly in hers, and together, treading very softly, they crossed a long narrow passage outside the room, passed through a glass door, went down a flight of stone steps into a cellar where piles of wood were stacked, and then went up three or four steps again to a little back door that opened on the pavement.The night air that blew in their faces felt fresh and cool.“Listen, my daughter!” said the old woman. “Now you go straight to your uncle’s house! You know the way. If to-morrow dawns well, I will come and tell you what is happening. Go! Run! And the Holy Virgin be with you!”At that moment loud voices came to them from the open window of the house which they had just left. Mattina thought she caught her name, and then she heard her master say very distinctly:—“Go upstairs, now!…” but she did not hear the end of the sentence.The men of the police must have come, and they were going upstairs to look for her!Without a word, she dragged her hand fromthe old woman’s and ran wildly down the dark street.She ran on and on, panting, stumbling, falling, picking herself up again, her plaits of hair which had come loose in the struggle with her mistress flying behind her. When she came out to the Piræus Road, where a few people were still about, she stopped, and leaning against a lamp post, tried with trembling fingers to tie up her hair.To her uncle’s! No! She would not go there!She had not had time to explain to Kyra Polyxene that her master knew where the baker’s shop was. He had asked her one day. And of course it was there they would search for her at once. No, no! Not to her uncle’s! But where then? Where?She tried hard to remember where Antigone had said that her brother lived. Perhapsshewould hide her; she knew how bad mistresses could be! But try as she would, she could not remember. Athens names were all new and strange to her.And there was no one else.Perhaps she could walk about all night, orsit down on a bench? But when it dawned, what then? Suddenly she heard running steps in the street behind her and loud voices, … men’s voices. Was the one her master’s? She looked wildly round like a trapped thing and once more started running, as she had never run before, down the middle of the broad road. Every moment it seemed as if a hand were grasping her shoulder. She flew past the lighted grocer’s shop where they might know her, and her head struck against the open shutter, but she did not feel the pain. On she ran, her breath coming in loud gasps, and great throbs beating in her throat. She heard steps again …. Were they behind her?Suddenly, under a lamp post, she came into violent contact with a big man, who was walking leisurely before her, his hands crossed behind his back, fiddling with a short string of black beads.He caught hold of the lamp post to save himself from falling and turned round.“Who falls in this way on people? Have you gone mad, my girl? One would think someone was hunting you.”It was a Poros voice, and Mattina clung desperatelyto the baggy blue breeches of Thanassi Nika, as the old sea-captain bent over her.“They are! They are!” she cried wildly, “theyarehunting me! Save me! Save me! And may all your dead become saints!”“Why? Why? What is happening here? Are you not Aristoteli Dorri’s daughter? Who is hunting you?”“The people of the house; the master … the mistress … they have called the men of the police; they will put me in prison!”“What have you done?” asked the old man sharply.“I have done nothing. On the soul of my father, I have taken nothing of theirs. But money was lost, and they say I took it. Save me! Take me from here!”Capetan Thanassi looked up and down the road.Farther up towards the grocer’s shop two or three men seemed hurrying towards them, but just at that moment a bright light flashed in their eyes, and a street car going to the square came to a stop a few paces away.The old man lifted Mattina bodily to the step and followed her. The little platform wascrowded, and as they stood there tightly wedged between many people, he put his finger on his lips so that Mattina should keep silent. Almost at once in the big lighted square they got down again, and before Mattina had time to think where they might be going, she had been run across the road, down a broad street, through a crowded waiting-room, down an endless flight of stone steps, and was seated once more in a railway carriage, which started almost as soon as Capetan Thanassi threw himself down puffing and panting on the seat beside her.“Well,” he said, wiping his forehead with a big red handkerchief, “it is not a good thing to be hunted and to run; but to let these Athenians, here, seize hold of Aristoteli Dorri’s daughter, and call her a thief! That could not be! Now, listen to me, little one! If you have done anything crooked, that is between God and your soul, but for me it is sufficient that I knew your father. My caique28leaves to-night, now, with the turn of the wind. I shall put you in it and take you back to your own country, and once there,… we shall see what can be done.”Mattina had seized his hand and was kissing it.“To my own island? To Poros? God make your years many, Capetan Thanassi, for this that you are doing for me!”
And yet, had he but known it, that was very nearly what had happened. When Mattina, worn out with crying, had sunk down on the floor against the door, sobbing out every now and then, “My mother, my manitsa,” she suddenly heard a very low muffled knocking which seemed to come from the other side of the room. At first she took no heed. It was someone, she supposed, in the next house; she had often heard people moving there. But it came again, a soft little knock repeated twice; then her name just whispered.
“Mattina! Mattina! Are you there?”
The voice was Kyra Polyxene’s, she was quite sure, but from where did it come? She crossed the little room. The knock was quite clear now.
“Mattina!”
“But where are you, Kyra Polyxene?”
“Now you will see; can you hear what I say?”
“Yes, I hear you.”
“Move your mattress!”
“What did you say?”
“I dare not speak any louder; move your mattress away from the wall!”
Mattina seized hold of the heavy straw mattress with both hands, and dragged it aside.
“Have you done it?”
“Yes.”
Then slowly, very slowly, a narrow door painted exactly the same color as the rest of the room, with no handle, no crack even to show its outline or to distinguish it from the surrounding wall, a door which Mattina had certainly never seen before, was pushed open from the other side and Kyra Polyxene’s kind old face appeared in the opening.
“Not a word!” she whispered, with a finger on her lips. “Not a word for your life! Come!”
Mattina was very bewildered.
“Where shall I come? How did you get in?”
“Hush! Lest they hear us from below. Once this was all one big house, and when they made it two, they left this door. It wasall painted over, and no one knew; but I remembered. Wait!” and she came right in. “Give me your coverlet! See I will hang it over the opening, so … because now that I have opened the door, when it is light they will see that the paint has cracked. And before that lazy mistress of yours takes the coverlet down to shake it, many days will pass. Come! Why are you waiting?”
“Kyra Polyxene,” said Mattina, “they all tell lies! I never saw their money!”
“And for that, will you stay here and let them take you and lock you in prison?”
There was a loud knocking at the door below.
Mattina clung desperately to Kyra Polyxene’s skirts.
“Do you hear?”
“I hear,” said the old woman grimly. “Come, I tell you! Come!”
She pushed Mattina first through the half-open door and followed, closing it softly behind her and turning a rusty key on the other side. They were standing in a small dark room filled with cases and lighted by one candle. Kyra Polyxene took up the candle. Then sheclasped Mattina’s hand tightly in hers, and together, treading very softly, they crossed a long narrow passage outside the room, passed through a glass door, went down a flight of stone steps into a cellar where piles of wood were stacked, and then went up three or four steps again to a little back door that opened on the pavement.
The night air that blew in their faces felt fresh and cool.
“Listen, my daughter!” said the old woman. “Now you go straight to your uncle’s house! You know the way. If to-morrow dawns well, I will come and tell you what is happening. Go! Run! And the Holy Virgin be with you!”
At that moment loud voices came to them from the open window of the house which they had just left. Mattina thought she caught her name, and then she heard her master say very distinctly:—
“Go upstairs, now!…” but she did not hear the end of the sentence.
The men of the police must have come, and they were going upstairs to look for her!
Without a word, she dragged her hand fromthe old woman’s and ran wildly down the dark street.
She ran on and on, panting, stumbling, falling, picking herself up again, her plaits of hair which had come loose in the struggle with her mistress flying behind her. When she came out to the Piræus Road, where a few people were still about, she stopped, and leaning against a lamp post, tried with trembling fingers to tie up her hair.
To her uncle’s! No! She would not go there!
She had not had time to explain to Kyra Polyxene that her master knew where the baker’s shop was. He had asked her one day. And of course it was there they would search for her at once. No, no! Not to her uncle’s! But where then? Where?
She tried hard to remember where Antigone had said that her brother lived. Perhapsshewould hide her; she knew how bad mistresses could be! But try as she would, she could not remember. Athens names were all new and strange to her.
And there was no one else.
Perhaps she could walk about all night, orsit down on a bench? But when it dawned, what then? Suddenly she heard running steps in the street behind her and loud voices, … men’s voices. Was the one her master’s? She looked wildly round like a trapped thing and once more started running, as she had never run before, down the middle of the broad road. Every moment it seemed as if a hand were grasping her shoulder. She flew past the lighted grocer’s shop where they might know her, and her head struck against the open shutter, but she did not feel the pain. On she ran, her breath coming in loud gasps, and great throbs beating in her throat. She heard steps again …. Were they behind her?
Suddenly, under a lamp post, she came into violent contact with a big man, who was walking leisurely before her, his hands crossed behind his back, fiddling with a short string of black beads.
He caught hold of the lamp post to save himself from falling and turned round.
“Who falls in this way on people? Have you gone mad, my girl? One would think someone was hunting you.”
It was a Poros voice, and Mattina clung desperatelyto the baggy blue breeches of Thanassi Nika, as the old sea-captain bent over her.
“They are! They are!” she cried wildly, “theyarehunting me! Save me! Save me! And may all your dead become saints!”
“Why? Why? What is happening here? Are you not Aristoteli Dorri’s daughter? Who is hunting you?”
“The people of the house; the master … the mistress … they have called the men of the police; they will put me in prison!”
“What have you done?” asked the old man sharply.
“I have done nothing. On the soul of my father, I have taken nothing of theirs. But money was lost, and they say I took it. Save me! Take me from here!”
Capetan Thanassi looked up and down the road.
Farther up towards the grocer’s shop two or three men seemed hurrying towards them, but just at that moment a bright light flashed in their eyes, and a street car going to the square came to a stop a few paces away.
The old man lifted Mattina bodily to the step and followed her. The little platform wascrowded, and as they stood there tightly wedged between many people, he put his finger on his lips so that Mattina should keep silent. Almost at once in the big lighted square they got down again, and before Mattina had time to think where they might be going, she had been run across the road, down a broad street, through a crowded waiting-room, down an endless flight of stone steps, and was seated once more in a railway carriage, which started almost as soon as Capetan Thanassi threw himself down puffing and panting on the seat beside her.
“Well,” he said, wiping his forehead with a big red handkerchief, “it is not a good thing to be hunted and to run; but to let these Athenians, here, seize hold of Aristoteli Dorri’s daughter, and call her a thief! That could not be! Now, listen to me, little one! If you have done anything crooked, that is between God and your soul, but for me it is sufficient that I knew your father. My caique28leaves to-night, now, with the turn of the wind. I shall put you in it and take you back to your own country, and once there,… we shall see what can be done.”
Mattina had seized his hand and was kissing it.
“To my own island? To Poros? God make your years many, Capetan Thanassi, for this that you are doing for me!”