"And it was after this silence had endured for a while that our
attention was drawn from our own thoughts by a strange commotion. A
number of the villagers suddenly appeared from round the corner of the
street where we had come, preceding a carriage which moved slowly, being
hampered by the people who pressed close to it all round. As if by magic
the people of the houses opening upon the little square appeared at the
doors and joined the crowd. And then, as the carriage arrived beneath
us, it halted, and the horses looked round toward the well, and we saw
on the seat of the carriage a man in some military uniform, a captain I
imagine, lying diagonally across the vehicle, a handkerchief soaked in
blood about his throat, a gash near one eye, and evidently a wound of
some sort in the arm, for his hand, which pressed against the cushion,
seemed to have adhered to it with the blood running down the sleeve.
The man's dark features had grown livid and his head lolled back with
closed eyes and sagging mouth. And then Pollyni came in quickly to fetch
us down, and we went.
"Our host, who stood by the carriage bareheaded and looking about him
first toward one speaker and then another, gathering the scattered
details of the story, had already sent a man away with a message, and he
turned and came into the café, scratching his head and looking extremely
serious. He said the officer was the son of his landlord, who lived on
an estate at the far end of the town on the Seres Road. There had been a
riot in the Israelite Quarter, the revolutionists had attacked a squad
of soldiers going up to the garrison to change guard, and the military
in clearing the streets had suffered some losses. The wounded man had
been dragged from his horse and nearly killed before his men could
rescue him. It was terrible for the old people. He had sent a messenger
to prepare them. They would send for a doctor. Everything in Saloniki
was in a bad way. Just as the carriage was well out of the city they
heard a terrific explosion near the port, where the railway station was.
Troops were already leaving for Monastir. And in reply to the question
as to what we had better do, he eyed us reflectively and said perhaps
we'd better beat it back as quick as we could. He'd send for our
carriage at once, if we liked. It was obvious that while he figured on
handling the situation with credit and possibly profit, he had no desire
to be hampered by our presence. And it was certainly my own idea, too,
to get back. That 'explosion near the port' worried me a good deal. If
the _Manola_ were affected it would be necessary for me to be on hand.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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