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In the Town,  Who Received with Delight And Applause

This Gentleman In the Distinguished-Looking khaki Clothes With

His Revolver And His Field Glasses And His Canteen And; His

Dragoman. The Dragoman Lied,  Of Course,  And Vocifcrated that

The Gentleman In the Distinguished-Looking khaki Clothes Was

An English Soldier Of Reputation,  Who Had,  Naturally,  Come To

Help The Cross In its Fight Against,  The Crescent. He Also Said

That His Master Had Three Superb Horses Coming from Athens In

Charge Of A Groom,  And Was Undoubtedly Going to Join The

Cavalry. Whereupon The Soldiers Wished to Embrace And Kiss

The Gentleman In the Distinguished-Looking khaki Clothes.

 

There Was More Or Less Of A Scuffle. Coleman Would Have

Taken To Kicking and Punching,  But He Found That By A- Series Of

Elusive Movements He Could Dodge The Demonstrations Of

Affection Without Losing his Popularity. Escorted by The

Soldiers,  Citizens,  Children And Dogs,  He Went To The Diligence

Which Was To Take Him And Others The Next Stage Of The Journey.

As The Diligence Proceeded,  Coleman'S Mind Suffered another

Little Inroad Of Ill-Fate As To The Success Of His Expedition. In the

First Place It Appeared foolish To Expect That This Diligence

Would Ever Arrive Anywhere. Moreover,  The

Accommodations Were About Equal To What One Would Endure If

One Undertook To Sleep For A Night In a Tree. Then There Was A

Devil-Dog,  A Little Black-And-Tan Terrier In a Blanket Gorgeous And

Belled,  Whose Duty It Was To Stand On The Top Of The Coach And

Bark Incessantly To Keep The Driver Fully Aroused to The Enormity

Of His Occupation. To Have This Cur Silenced either By

Strangulation Or Ordinary Clubbing,  Coleman Struggled with His

Dragoman As Jacob Struggled with The Angel,  But In the First

Place,  The Dragoman Was A Greek Whose Tongue Could Go Quite

Drunk,  A Greek Who Became A Slave To The Heralding and

Establishment Of One Certain Fact,  Or Lie,  And Now He Was

Engaged in describing to Every Village And To All The Country

Side The Prowess Of The Gentleman In the Distinguished-Looking

Khaki Clothes. It Was The General Absurdity Of This Advance To

The Frontier And The Fighting,  To The Crucial Place Where He Was

Resolved to Make An Attempt To Rescue His Sweetheart ; It Was

This Ridiculous Aspect That Caused to Come To Coleman A

Premonition Of Failure. No Knight Ever Went Out To Recover A Lost

Love In such A Diligence And With Such A Devil-Dog,  Tinkling his

Little Bells And Yelping insanely To Keep The Driver Awake.

After Night-Fall They Arrived at A Town On The Southern Coast

Of The Gulf Of Arta And The Goaded dragoman Was-Thrust Forth

From The Little Inn Into The Street To Find The First Possible Means

Of Getting on To Arta. He Returned at Last To Tremulously Say That

There Was No Single Chance Of Starting for Arta That Night. Where

Upon He Was Again Thrust Into The Street With Orders,  Strict Orders.

In Due Time,  Coleman Spread His Rugs Upon The Floor Of His Little Room

And Thought Himself Almost Asleep,. When The Dragoman Entered

With A Really Intelligent Man Who,  For Some Reason,  Had Agreed

To Consort With Him In the Business Of Getting the Stranger Off

To Arta. They Announced that There Was A Brigantine About To

Sail With A Load Of Soldiers For A Little Port Near Arta,  And If

Coleman Hurried he Could Catch It,  Permission From An Officer

Having already Been Obtained. He Was Up At Once,  And The

Dragoman And The Unaccountably Intelligent Person Hastily

Gathered his Chattels. Stepping out Into A Black Street And

Moving to The Edge Of Black Water And Embarking in a Black

Boat Filled with Soldiers Whose Rifles Dimly Shone,  Was As

Impressive To Coleman As If,  Really,  It Had Been The First Start. He

Had Endured many Starts,  It Was True,  But The Latest One Always

Touched him As Being conclusive.

 

There Were No Lights On The Brigantine And The Men Swung

Precariously Up Her Sides To The Deck Which Was Already

Occupied by A Babbling multitude. The Dragoman Judiciously

Found A Place For His Master Where During the Night The Latter

Had To Move Quickly Everytime The Tiller Was Shifted to

Starboard.

 

The Craft Raised her Shadowy Sails And Swung Slowly Off Into

The Deep Gloom. Forward,  Some Of The Soldiers Began To Sing

Weird Minor Melodies. Coleman,  Enveloped in his Rugs,  -Smoked

Three Or Four Cigars. He Was Content And Miserable,  Lying there,

Hearing these Melodies Which Defined to Him His Own Affairs.

 

At Dawn They Were At The Little Port. First,  In the Carmine And

Grey Tints From A Sleepy Sun,  They Could See Little Mobs Of

Soldiers Working amid Boxes Of Stores. And Then From The Back

In Some Dun And Green Hills Sounded a Deep-Throated thunder

Of Artillery  An Officer Gave Coleman And His Dragoman

Positions In one Of The First Boats,  But Of Course It Could Not Be

Done Without An Almost Endless Amount Of Palaver. Eventually

They Landed with Their Traps. Coleman Felt Through The Sole Of

His Boot His Foot Upon The Shore. He Was Within Striking

Distance.

 

But Here It Was Smitten Into The Head Of Coleman'S Servant To

Turn Into The Most Inefficient Dragoman,  Probably In the Entire

East. Coleman Discerned it Immediately,  Before Any Blunder

Could Tell Him. He At First Thought That It Was The Voices Of The

Guns Which Had Made A Chilly Inside For The Man,  But When He

Reflected upon The Incompetency,  Or Childish Courier'S Falsity,  At

Patras And His Discernible Lack Of Sense From Agrinion Onward,

He Felt That The Fault Was Elemental In his Nature. It Was A Mere

Basic Inability To Front Novel Situations Which Was Somehow In the

Dragoman; He Retreated from Everything difficult In a Smoke Of

Gibberish And Gesticulation. Coleman Glared at Him With The Hatred that

Sometimes Ensues When Breed meets Breed,  But He Saw That

This Man Was Indeed a Golden Link In his Possible Success. This

Man Connected him With Greece And Its Language. If He

Destroyed him He Delayed what Was Now His Main Desire In life.

However,  This Truth Did Not Prevent Him From Addressing the

Man In elegant Speech.

 

The Two Little Men Who Were Induced to Carry Coleman'S

Luggage As Far As The Greek Camp Were Really Procured by The

Correspondent Himself,  Who Pantomined vigourously And With

Unmistakable Vividness. Followed by His Dragoman And The Two

Little Men,  He Strode Off Along A Road Which Led straight As A

Stick To Where The Guns Were At Intervals Booming. Meanwhile

The Dragoman And The Two Little Men Talked,  Talked,  Talked.-

Coleman Was Silent,  Puffing his Cigar And Reflecting upon The

Odd Things Which Happen To Chivalry In the Modern Age.

 

He Knew Of Many Men Who Would Have Been Astonished if

They Could Have Seen Into His Mind At That Time,  And He Knew Of

Many More Men Who Would Have Laughed if They Had The Same

Privilege Of Sight. He Made No Attempt To Conceal From Himself

That The Whole Thing was Romantic,  Romantic Despite The  Little

Tinkling dog,  The Decrepit Diligence,  The Palavering

Natives,  The Super-Idiotic Dragoman. It Was Fine,  It Was From

Another Age And Even The Actors Could Not Deface The Purity Of

The Picture. However It Was True That Upon The Brigantine The

Previous Night He Had Unaccountably Wetted all His Available

Matches. This Was Momentous,  Important,  Cruel Truth,  But

Coleman,  After All,  Was Taking-As Well As He Could Forgeta Solemn

And Knightly Joy Of This Adventure And There Were As Many

Portraits Of His Lady Envisioning. Before Him As Ever Held The

Heart Of An Armour-Encased young Gentleman Of Medieval

Poetry. If He Had Been Travelling in this Region As An Ordinary

Tourist,  He Would Have Been Apparent Mainly For His Lofty

Impatience Over Trifles,  But Now There Was In him A Positive

Assertion Of Direction Which Was Undoubtedly One Of The

Reasons For The Despair Of The Accomplished dragoman.

 

Before Them The Country Slowly Opened and Opened,  The

Straight White Road Always Piercing it Like A Lanceshaft. Soon

They Could See Black Masses Of Men Marking the Green Knolls.

The Artillery Thundered loudly And Now Vibrated augustly

Through The Air. Coleman Quickened his Pace,  To The Despair Of

The Little Men Carrying the Traps. They Finally Came Up With One

Of These Black Bodies Of Men And Found It To Be Composed of A

Considerable Number Of Soldiers Who Were Idly Watching some

Hospital People Bury A Dead Turk. The Dragoman At Once Dashed

Forward To Peer Through The Throng And See The Face Of The Corpse.

Then He Came And Supplicated coleman As If He Were Hawking him To

Look At A Relic And Coleman Moved by A Strong,  Mysterious

Impulse,  Went Forward To Look At The Poor Little Clay-Coloured

Body. At That Moment A Snake Ran Out From A Tuft Of Grass At His

Feet And Wriggled wildly Over The Sod. The Dragoman Shrieked,

Of Course,  But One Of The Soldiers Put His Heel Upon The Head Of

The Reptile And It Flung Itself Into The Agonising knot Of Death.

Then The Whole Crowd Powwowed,  Turning from The Dead Man

To The Dead Snake. Coleman Signaled his Contingent And

Proceeded along The Road.

 

This Incident,  This Paragraph,  Had Seemed a Strange

Introduction To War. The Snake,  The Dead Man,  The Entire Sketch,

Made Him Shudder Of Itself,  But More Than Anything he Felt An

Uncanny Symbolism. It Was No Doubt A Mere Occurrence;

Nothing but An Occurrence; But Inasmuch As All The Detail Of This

Daily Life Associated itself With Marjory,  He Felt A Different

Horror. He Had Thought Of The Little Devil-Dog And Marjory In an

Interwoven Way. Supposing marjory Had Been Riding in the

Diligence With The Devil-Dog-A-Top ? What Would She Have Said ?

Of Her Fund Of Expressions,  A Fund Uncountable,  Which Would

She Have Innocently Projected against The Background Of The

Greek Hills? Would It Have Smitten Her Nerves Badly Or Would

She Have Laughed ? And Supposing marjory

Could Have Seen Him In his New Khaki Clothes Cursing his

Dragoman As He Listened to The Devil-Dog?

 

And Now He Interwove His Memory Of Marjory With A Dead

Man And With A Snake In the Throes Of The End Of Life. They

Crossed,  Intersected,  Tangled,  These Two Thoughts. He Perceived

It Clearly; The Incongruity Of It. He Academically Reflected upon

The Mysteries Of The Human Mind,  This Homeless Machine Which

Lives Here And Then There And Often Lives In two Or Three

Opposing places At The Same Instant. He Decided that The

Incident Of The Snake And The Dead Man Had No More Meaning

Than The Greater Number Of The Things Which Happen To Us In our

Daily Lives. Nevertheless It Bore Upon Him.

 

On A Spread Of Plain They Saw A Force Drawn Up In a Long Line.

It Was A Flagrant Inky Streak On The Verdant Prairie. From

Somewhere Near It Sounded the Timed reverberations Of Guns.

The Brisk Walk Of The Next Ten Minutes Was Actually Exciting to

Coleman. He Could Not But Reflect That Those Guns Were Being

Fired with Serious Purpose At Certain Human Bodies Much Like

His Own.

 

As They Drew Nearer They Saw That The Inky Streak Was

Composed of Cavalry,  The Troopers Standing at Their Bridles. The

Sunlight Flicked,  Upon Their Bright Weapons. Now The Dragoman

Developed in one Of His Extraordinary Directions. He Announced

Forsooth That An Intimate Friend Was A Captain Of Cavalry In this

Command. Coleman At First Thought. That This Was Some Kind Of

Mysterious Lie,  But When He Arrived where They Could Hear The

Stamping of Hoofs,  The Clank Of Weapons,  And The Murmur Of

Men,  Behold,  A Most Dashing young Officer Gave A Shout Of Joy

And He And The Dragoman Hurled themselves Into A Mad

Embrace. After This First Ecstacy Was Over,  The Dragoman

Bethought Him Of His Employer,  And Looking toward Coleman

Hastily Explained him To The Officer. The Latter,  It Appeared,  Was

Very Affable Indeed. Much Had Happened. The Greeks And The

Turks Had Been Fighting over A Shallow Part Of The River Nearly

Opposite This Point And The Greeks Had Driven Back The Turks

And Succeeded in throwing a Bridge Of Casks And Planking

Across The Stream. It Was Now The Duty And The Delight Of This

Force Of Cavalry To Cross The Bridge And,  Passing,  The Little Force

Of Covering greek Infantry,  To Proceed into Turkey Until They

Came In touch With The Enemy.

 

Coleman'S Eyes Dilated. Was Ever Fate Less Perverse ? Partly

In Wretched french To The Officer And Partly In idiomatic English

To The Dragoman,  He Proclaimed his Fiery Desire To Accompany

The Expedition. The Officer Immediately Beamed upon Him. In

Fact,  He Was Delighted. The Dragoman Had Naturally Told Him

Many Falsehoods Concerning coleman,  Incidentally Referring to

Himself More As A Philanthropic Guardian And,  Valuable Friend Of

The Correspondent Than As,  A Plain,  Unvarnished. Dragoman

With An Exceedingly Good Eye For The Financial Possibilities Of

His Position.

 

Coleman Wanted to Ask His Servant If There Was Any Chance Of

The Scout Taking them Near Nikopolis,  But He Delayed being

Informed upon This Point