The Vintage: A Romance of the Greek War of IndependenceBenson, E. F. (Edward Frederic)
History
The Vintage: A Romance of the Greek War of Independence
Benson, E. F. (Edward Frederic)
Greece -- History -- War of Independence, 1821-1829 -- Fiction
Mitsos longed to tell her, but his promise to Nicholas kept him dumb.
Then, as he had to answer, he lied boldly and unreservedly.
"It has nothing whatever to do with it," he said. "But oh, Suleima,
forgive me for so frightening you--I did not mean what I said. And
will you come to the wall again as often as you can? I may have to go
away--indeed, I am afraid that is sure, but I do not know for how long.
The first night I am back I shall come again to the wall, the dear
white wall where we first met."
Suleima felt quite comforted. She was sure that nothing could go really
wrong as long as Mitsos drew breath, and she bent down his head and
kissed him.
"Yes, Mitsos, I will come to the wall whenever I can, hoping only that
you may be there, because, you know, I care for you more than all the
rest of the world. And now carry me back to the boat, strong-armed one.
It is time I went back."
Mitsos stooped and lifted her up. As his hands were full, he hung the
creel round his neck, and Suleima carried the extinguished flare. His
heart was a dead weight within him, for he felt certain why Nicholas
had come; but he was apparently his old cheery self, and Suleima forgot
about the rather disquieting moments just after Nicholas had passed.
What he should do he could not form the least idea; at present it
seemed to him impossible that he should go away and leave her. He felt
willing to throw to the winds all he had promised Nicholas. Nicholas
had told him that he should be one of the foremost of his country's
avengers. He shrugged his shoulders, for just now the desire for
vengeance on Turks was less than the memory of a dream. Were there
not plenty of others to avenge Greece? Why should he give up all that
was dearest to him, this dear burden that was his, and go out on an
undesired adventure?
But as long as Suleima was with him he stifled all these thoughts,
while the boat skimmed seawards on the outward tack. They put about
opposite the island and ran straight for the wall. The wind had
freshened, and to Mitsos the boat seemed to be going terribly fast, for
he grudged each moment. But he had quite lulled Suleima's disquietude,
if not his own, and she lay with her head on his shoulder, half asleep,
looking up now and then into his wide-open eyes, and pressing her arm
more closely round his neck. He had to rouse her when he must get up
to take in the sail, and she smiled at him sleepily like a child just
wakened.
Then he fixed the ladder, and she climbed up, clung to him for a moment
without words, for there was no need of speech between them, and went
quickly and silently across the garden.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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