Table of Contents
The Greek Skipper.
“No, I can’t do it,” said Mr. Burne after several brave efforts; “I really am a good deal jarred, and it is quite impossible. I am quite right as long as I keep still, but in such pain if I move that I can hardly bear it.”
“Then we will put off the journey for a week,” said the professor decisively.
“And disappoint the lad?” said Mr. Burne. “No; you two must go.”
“How can you talk like that?” exclaimed Lawrence sharply, “when you have come on purpose to help me get strong again? Mr. Preston, we shall stay here—shall we not?”
“Of course,” replied the professor. “The enjoyment of our trip depends upon our being staunch to one another.”
Mr. Burne declared that it was absurd, and ridiculous, and nonsensical, and raked out a few other adjectives to give force to his sentiments, speaking in the most sour way possible; but it was very evident that he was highly pleased, and the steamer sailed without them.
The next day Mr. Burne was so stiff that he could not walk about; but he refused to see a doctor, and a week passed before he could move without pain. Then one morning he declared that he was mending fast, and insisted upon inquiries being made respecting the sailing of the next steamer that would stop at one or other of the little towns on the south coast; but there was nothing bound in that direction, nor likely to be for another fortnight.
“And all my fault!” cried Mr. Burne angrily. “Tut-tut-tut! Here, ring for the landlord.”
The landlord came and was questioned.
No, there was no possibility of a passage being made for quite a fortnight, unless the visitors would go in a small sailing boat belonging to one or the other of the trading crews.
The professor glanced at Lawrence, thought of the probable discomfort, and shook his head.
“The very thing!” exclaimed Mr. Burne sharply.
“We can make trips in steamers at anytime; but a trip in a Greek felucca, with real Greek sailors, is what I have longed for all my life. Eh, Lawrence, what do you say?”
“I think with you, sir, that it would be delightful—that is, if you are well enough to go.”
“Well enough to go! of course I am. I’m longing to be off. Only a bit stiff. Look here, landlord, see what you can do for us. One moment, though; these Greeks—they will not rob us and throw us overboard—eh?”
“No fear, sir. I’ll see that you go by a boat manned by honest fellows who come regularly to the port. Leave it to me.”
The landlord departed and the question was discussed. The professor was ready enough to go in the manner proposed so long as Lawrence felt equal to the task, and this he declared he was; and certainly, imperceptibly as it had come about, there was an improvement in his appearance that was most hopeful.
The principal part of their luggage had gone on by steamer, and would be lying waiting for them at Ansina, a little port on the south coast which had been considered a suitable starting-point; and they had been suffering some inconvenience, buying just such few things as would do to make shift with till they overtook their portmanteaux.
Oddly enough, Mr. Burne expressed the most concern about their new purchases, the weapons and ammunition, which had been sent on to the steamer by the landlord as soon as they arrived from the store.
“Such things must be so tempting to the people who see them,” said the old lawyer.
“But they were all carefully packed in cases,” said the professor. “They would not know what was inside.”
“Nonsense, my dear sir. We English folk would not have known, but a Greek or a Turk would. These people smell powder just like crows in a corn-field. I’m afraid that if we don’t make haste we shall find our things gone, and I wouldn’t lose that gun for any money.”
The landlord came back in about a couple of hours to say that he had had no success, but that it would become known that he had been inquiring, and an application might be made.
This turned out correct, for as the travellers were seated that evening over their dessert, enjoying by an open window the deliciously soft breeze, as Lawrence partook of the abundant grapes, and the professor puffed at a water-pipe—an example followed by Mr. Burne, who diligently tried to like it, but always gave up in favour of a cigar at the end of a quarter of an hour—the waiter brought their coffee and announced that the master of a small vessel desired to see their excellencies.
The man was shown in, and proved to be a picturesque-looking fellow in a scarlet cap, which he snatched from his curly black hair and advanced into the room, saying some words in modern Greek whose import the professor made out; but his attempts to reply were too much for the skipper, who grew excited, shook his head, and finally rushed out of the room, to the great amusement of Mr. Burne, who knocked the ash off the cigar he had recently lit.
“That’s what I always say,” he cried. “Book language is as different as can be from spoken language. I learned French for long enough when I was a boy, but I never could make a Frenchman understand what I meant.”
“Let’s ring and inquire,” said the professor, to hide a smile. “I hope we have not driven the fellow away.”
“Hope you have, you mean,” said Mr. Burne.
The professor rose to reach the bell, but just then the landlord entered with the Greek sailor, who smiled and showed his white teeth.
With the landlord as interpreter the matter became easy. The man was going to sail in three days, that was as soon as the little vessel, in which he had brought a cargo of oranges and other fruit from Beyrout, had discharged her load and was ready to return. He was going to Larnaca on his return voyage, but for a consideration he was ready to take the English excellencies to any port they liked on the south coast—Ansina if they wished—and he would make them as comfortable as the boat would allow; but they must bring their own food and wine.
The bargain was soon struck, the Greek asking a sum which the landlord named to the professor—so many Turkish pounds.
“But is not that a heavy price for the accommodation we shall receive?”
“Yes,” said the landlord smiling. “I was going to suggest that you should offer him one-third of the amount.”
“Then we shall offend him and drive him away,” said Mr. Burne.
“Oh, dear me! no, gentlemen. He does not expect to get what he asks, and the sum I name would be very fair payment. You leave the settlement in my hands.”
The professor acquiesced, and the landlord turned to the Greek sailor to offer him just one-third of the sum he had asked.
“I thought as much,” said the old lawyer. “The landlord thinks we’re in England, and that it was a bill of costs that he had to tax. Look at the Greek, Lawrence!”
The
