CHAPTER XXIII

A FRIEND WORTH HAVING

Curtis sat down upon the edge of the fountain. There was a faint smell of powder in the air. He heard a shot now and again in the distance. A bugle sounded. Fortunately no more of the Bashi Bazouks passed through the square.

"Gone!" said Curtis; "gone!"

The Greeks began to come in, talking excitedly and gesticulating like madmen. They seemed to be in high spirits. They gathered about Curtis, and, pointing at the dead bodies, all talked at once. They enraged him. He could hardly resist the desire to jump up and lay about among them with the butt of his musket. Lindbohm pushed his way through the crowd. Holding his gun in his left hand, he brought the right to his forehead, saluting gaily with the imaginary sword.

"Well, my friend, we had a little fun with them, didn't we? The ambush, however, would have been more of a success had the men obeyed my orders. If I had my way I would yust shoot a soldier who disobeyed orders. Still, we taught them a lesson. We have killed, let me see how many, one two, three--

"Hell!" interrupted Curtis, rising suddenly.

"What!" said Lindbohm, turning upon him, "what's the matter?"

"She's gone."

Lindbohm clutched at the shoulder of a bystanding insurgent.

"Panayota!" he gasped.

"Huh! Where were you? Eh? Where were you? Here they came, six of 'em, right down here, and the girl and I all alone. What could I do, one against six? You're a healthy soldier, you are--scatter all over the country! Lindbohm, you're to blame for this. You've got to answer to me--somebody's got to settle for this." Flinging his rifle down among the stones, he turned his back contemptuously and limped toward one of the houses. A kindly insurgent sprang to his assistance.

"Right up through there they went, carrying her with them. Four men could have stopped 'em. Where were you, damn you?" and, pushing the insurgent from him, he shook his fist in his face. "Get out of my sight, get out!" he cried.

Lindbohm was sitting on the side of the basin, his face buried in his hands. He was sobbing and talking to himself in Swedish. Those who stood near heard the word "Panayota." Reason returned to Curtis as speedily as he had lost it. His blind rage passed away, and in its place came a resolve to recover Panayota and to settle with Kostakes according to the present debt and all that might accrue. The spirit of Crete had taken thorough possession of him. He had been wronged by the Turk, he lived only for vengeance. His eye fell upon a Cretan in the act of pulling a boot from a dead Turk's foot. He was tugging with all his might. All at once he flew over backwards with the boot in his hands. His comrades broke into laughter. Lindbohm did not look up.

"They don't feel this thing about Panayota as badly as Lindbohm and I do," soliloquized Curtis. "Poor old Lindbohm! I'll tell him I'm in love with Panayota, and then he'll see how foolish it is for him to take on so. He ought to stand it if I can."

The insurgent detached the other boot and brought the pair to him.

"Will those fit?" he asked. "Good boots."

Curtis took the boots and went over to the drinking fountain. He patted Lindbohm on the back. "Cheer up, old man," he said. "They can't get away from us. There's another day coming."

It was impossible to get the boot upon the sore foot, so one of the insurgents cut it off at the ankle and slit it down nearly to the toe. Then he punched a number of holes, and Curtis was able, by means of a string, to lace on this improvised shoe. As the leather was soft, it proved very comfortable. Lindbohm staggered to his feet, stretched himself like a man awakening from sleep, and ran his finger through his blonde pompadour.

"That's right, old man," said Curtis; "we must brace up. Of course, you feel bad because we sort of fumbled the thing. But consider what my feelings must be. Lindbohm, I love that girl."

The Swede started violently.

"You have made court to her?" he asked.

"Why, I told her that I loved her--yes, yes, several times."

"And, pardon me, she said that she loved you?"

"Now that you ask me, I don't believe she did. No, she didn't. But I didn't have much time, you see."

Lindbohm held out his big, soft hand, and, as Curtis grasped it, said:

"We will not turn back; we will find Panayota. And if Kostakes has insulted her we will punish him, though he flee to the ends of the earth."

"Old man, you're a friend worth having," cried Curtis, wringing the hand which he held. "I'll never forget this till the last day of my life."

One of the insurgents, a former resident of Canea, spoke some French. It was through the medium of this man that Lindbohm had communicated with his troop thus far. He called him now and told him to get the men together, as they must march. He feared lest Kostakes, surmising the smallness of their numbers, might return to the attack.

So they set forth in the moonlight, taking with them the arms and other spoils of the dead Turks, of whom the number proved to be eight. Their plan was to conceal themselves somewhere in the fields and get some sleep. But half a mile out of Galata they encountered a band of fifty Cretan insurgents, young men of the region, armed to the teeth, and thirsting for vengeance. These, learning that Lindbohm was a foreign officer of approved mettle, put themselves also under his leadership. Thus reinforced he returned and camped in Galata. The next morning he pushed on vigorously after Kostakes--a pursuit that was destined to last several weeks, and that was prosecuted with a continually increasing band. Several encounters took place, and three Turkish villages were destroyed, by way of reprisal. They did not succeed in capturing Kostakes, but two wounded Turks that fell into their hands at different times, told them that Panayota was in his camp.