The Vintage: A Romance of the Greek War of Independence by E. F. Benson
CHAPTER VIII
THE MENDING OF THE MONASTERY ROOF
Kanaris had finished his unlading the same evening, and he was ready atdaybreak to take Nicholas and Germanos as far as Vostitza, a fishingvillage lying some four miles from the mouth of the gorge, at the topof which stands Megaspelaion. Here the archbishop and Nicholas wouldget mules and reach the monastery the same evening. Vostitza, withtheir fair wind, was not more than four hours from Patras, and onarriving there the archbishop went straight to the house of the Turkishgovernor, from whom he procured mules, and to whom he introducedNicholas as his cousin; and the three talked together a while over acup of coffee, discussed the idle rumors that were abroad concerninga movement against the Turks among the Greeks, and found cause forcomfort as lovers of peace in the undoubted fact that Nicholas had beenkilled two days before at Corinth. He was a turbulent, hot-headed man,said the archbishop, and did not value the blessings of tranquillity.His cousin also had met him, a quarrelsome, wine-bibbing fellow, quothNicholas; he could have had no more appropriate end than a brawl in awine-shop.
Thus they chatted very pleasantly and harmoniously while their muleswere being made ready, and Said Aga, who was no man of the sword, beingrotund and indolent in habit, was much relieved to find that Germanosscoffingly dismissed the idea of any hostile movement being on footamong the Greeks. True, there had been disturbances lately; a Turkishtax-collector had been killed at Diakopton, three miles from Vostitza.Had they not heard? The news had come yesterday!
"Alas! for this unruly people," said Germanos. "What was the manner ofit?"
"I hardly know," said Said Aga. "It was the usual story, I believe. Hehad taken to himself a Greek woman, and the husband killed him. The manhas fled, but they will catch him, and he will suffer, and then die.For me, I shrug my shoulders at these things. We Turks have certaincustoms, and the Prophet himself had four wives, and when we are thelords of a country we must be obeyed."
"True," said Nicholas, "quite true, and we must submit. It is not thewill of God that all men should be equal."
He caught Germanos's eye for a moment.
"I am glad that you think there is nothing in these rumors," went onSaid Aga. "Your countrymen would hardly be so foolish as to attemptanything of the sort. But the rumors are somewhat persistent. It waseven said that the monks at Megaspelaion were collecting arms, and mycolleague Mehemet Salik, a very energetic young man who was lately putin charge at Tripoli, thought best to make an inspection there. But hewas quite satisfied there was no truth in it."
Germanos laughed heartily.
"That is a little too much," he said. "You may at least rest assuredthat we priests of God are men of peace. Our mules, they tell me, areready. A thousand thanks, Excellency, for your kindness."
They mounted and rode up the straying village street, paved withbig, uneven stones. The villagers were all out in the fields for thefruit harvest, and the rough, shaggy-haired dogs, keeping watch inthe deserted house-yards, came rushing out barking and snarling withbared teeth at the sound of their mules with their tinkling bells andiron-shod feet grating over the cobbles. The mule-boys paid littleattention to their noisy menaces, though now and then some dog moresavage or less wisely valorous than his fellows would come within stickdistance, only to be sent back with better cause for crying than before.
But in ten minutes or so they got clear of the village, and takingone of the field roads struck across the plain towards the mouth ofthe gorge, about four miles distant. The grapes were not yet so faradvanced as at Nauplia and still hung hard, and tinged with coloronly on the sunward side; but the fruit harvest was going on, andunder the fig-trees were spread coarse strips of matting on whichthe fragrant piles were laid to dry. A few late pomegranate-treeswere still covered with their red wax-like blossoms, but on most thepetals had fallen, and the fruit, like little green-glazed pitchers,was beginning to swell and darken towards maturity. The men were atwork in the vineyards cutting channels for the water, and through thegreen of the fig-trees you could catch sight every now and then of thebrightly-colored petticoat of some woman picking the fruit, or elseher presence was only indicated, where the leaves were thicker, by thedumping of the ripe figs onto the canvas strips below. The sun wasright overhead before they struck the mouth of the gorge, and the heatintense--a still, fruit-ripening heat in the heavy air of the plains.But as they approached the hills a cooler draught slid down frombetween the enormous crags, bearing on it the voice of the brawlingtorrent, which is fed by the snow of Cyllene and Helmos, and knows notdrought.
Here the country was given up to olives and wheat, and occasionalclumps of maize near the bed of the stream. The oleanders were stillin flower, and their great clusters of pink blossom marked the courseof the river. Another mile took them to the ford, on the far side ofwhich the path began to climb through the ever-narrowing gorge. Furtherup they found it impossible to keep to the course of the stream, forthe road had been washed away in places and not repaired, and leavingit on their right, they turned up over a steep grassy stretch of moor,sprinkled here and there with pines. Looking back they could see belowthem the hot luxuriant plain they had left, trembling sleepily underthe blue haze of heat, and further off the shimmering waters of thegulf. As they ascended the vegetation changed: pines entirely tookthe place of the olives, and the grass, all brown and dead below fromthe summer's heat, began to be flushed with lively green, and studdedwith wild campanulas and little blue gentians, throbbing hotly withcolor. Then descending again they passed along the upper slope of thecliffs above the gorge and saw before them the deep, sheltered valleystretching up to Kalavryta, a land of streams and a garden of the Lord.
The sun was already near its setting when they joined the main roadleading up to the monastery from the valley, and they struck into atrain of some half-dozen mules covered and enveloped in loads of reeds,the tops of which brushed rustling along the ground behind like somecourt lady's dress. Two of the monks from the monastery were in chargeof these, and when they saw who it was with Nicholas they stopped andkissed the archbishop's hands. As they moved forward again he said:
"I see you are carrying reeds, my sons. From where did they come, andfor what purpose?"
"From Kalavryta, father," said one. "We have six mules laden with them.The monastery roof needs mending."
"That is good. Observe, Nicholas, how fine these reeds are. They seemto be a heavy load. The monastery roof, they say, wants mending."
The younger of the two monks smiled.
"A great many things want mending, father!" he said. "We are makingpreparations for mending them."
Nicholas, who was in front, checked his mule.
"And have you black corn," he said, "good black corn for the Turk?"
The monk shook his head.
"I do not understand," he said.
Germanos smiled back at Nicholas.
"A roof for the monastery first, Nicholas," he said; "there will betime for the good black corn when the roof is mended. And now, my son,I will ask you to go forward quickly and tell Father Priketes, with mysalutations, that my cousin and I will arrive very soon. We shall stopwith him for a day, or it may be two, for we wish to superintend thismending of the monastery roof, and see that it is well done for theglory of God."
Another half-hour through the gathering dusk brought them in sight ofthe monastery, which from the distance was indistinguishable from theface of the cliff, against which it was built. Chains of light shonefrom the narrow windows, row above row, some from the height of allits twelve stories, twinkling a hundred feet above them, as if fromcottages perched high on the cliff, others larger and nearer from thewindows of the sacristy and library. To the right stood the greatgateway, about which several moving lanterns seemed to show that thenews of their coming had anticipated them, and that due preparationswere being made to receive the archbishop. As they got close theycould see that the monks were pouring out of the arch, and takingtheir places in rows on each side of the terrace leading up to t
"The peace of God be upon this holy house and all within it, and Hisblessing be upon the work"--and his voice dwelt on the word--"upon thework you are doing."
Nicholas was already known to Father Priketes, but the latter looked asif he had seen a ghost when he caught sight of him.
"We heard you were dead," he said.
Nicholas smiled.
"I am delighted to know it, father," he said. "Do not destroy the idea,if you please."
They passed on to Father Priketes's rooms, where they were alone.
"I see your repairs are going on steadily," said Germanos. "We passedsome laden mules on the way. Nicholas wished much to see what you weredoing. He is--how shall I say it?--our overseer; we are the workmen. Hewill tell us when the work must be finished. Let us go at once to thechapel, my brother, and thank St. Luke, your founder, and the BlessedVirgin, that they have brought us here safe. That is the first duty ofthe soldiers of God."
Father Priketes led the way to the chapel, and pushed open the greatbrazen door for Germanos to enter. He knelt in turn before the greataltar, the altar to the Beloved Physician, and before the black reliefof the Virgin, made, as tradition says, by the hands of St. Lukehimself, and said for himself and Nicholas a thanksgiving for theaid of the Saints which had brought them safely to the end of theirjourney. They then supped with Father Priketes, and went back to thechapel.
The place was but dimly lighted with oil lamps, and after locking thedoor behind them--for at present only a few of the monks had beentrusted with the secret of the crypt--the father lighted a lantern andled the way up to the east end. Then after crossing himself he drewfrom underneath the altar a small crowbar, and creeping under with thelantern, he prized away a square paving-stone, which covered a holelarge enough for a single man to creep through. Rough wooden stepshad been erected from the floor of the crypt up to the level of this,and one by one they descended. The crypt was some forty feet long bytwenty broad, and the light of the lantern struck from all the wallsa reflection of steel. Since Germanos's last visit, they had largelyadded to the number of arms, and on a hasty glance Nicholas reckonedthat there could not be less than fifteen hundred guns.
His eyes glistened as he moved the lantern round the walls, and heturned to Father Priketes.
"This will make a hole in the Turks bigger than the hole in your roof,"he said. "You have enough, I think. They will be hungry, these reeds;grind their food for them, and do not let them feel stint of that."
"Already?" asked Father Priketes.
"Already! It is August now, and when our vineyards are green with thefresh leaves in the spring, the juice of the greater vintage shall bespilled. And there will be a mighty gathering; the wine-press will berunning red, and fuller than the vats of Solomon. Where can you stowthe food for all these hungry throats?"
"There is room here, is there not?"
"Surely, room and to spare; but it would not be well to keep it here.Whoever enters here must carry a light; a chance spark, and he may cryto the Virgin in vain."
Father Priketes paused a moment.
"You shall take a walk with me to-morrow and we will see. You aresatisfied at present?"
"I shall never be satisfied," said Nicholas. "I should not be satisfiedif I saw all the armaments of angels in array against the Turk. But itis time to think of other things. Could you raise men at once?"
"Five hundred in one minute from within these walls," said FatherPriketes, "and two thousand more in the time it would take an eager manto climb up here from Kalavryta."
Nicholas looked round again, smiling as a man smiles to look on one heloves.
"This feeds my soul," he said. "And swords too, little sickles for thegathering! Look you, perhaps we shall not meet again till after ourvintage has begun; but remember this: After four months from now, wecannot tell when the day of the beginning of the gathering will come,and so be ready. Whatever the archbishop orders, do it, for he and Iwork together. And, O Father, let no man take thought for himself onthat day. What matters it to whom the honor and the glory go, if onceGreece is free? If you desire such things, I give to you now by bequestall the honor and riches that may come to me. Forgive me for sayingthis, but that is the only loophole where failure may creep into ourcamp, and that I fear more than ten Sultans and their armies. I say thesame thing to all, and I remind myself of it daily. I have been chosento conduct this matter, for the present, in the Morea, and I will givemy life and all I possess to it; and in company with others, of whomthe archbishop is one, and Petros Mavromichales, of Maina, another, Iwill do my best, so help me God, honestly and without a selfish mind.The moment a single dissentient voice is raised, not in the matter ofcouncils or plan of actions, on which we will listen to all that is tobe said, but of command and obedience, I only ask leave to serve inthe ranks. Let us deliberate together by all means till the time comesto act, but when that time comes, and a word of command goes throughthe country, let there be no delay. For all will depend, so I take it,on the speed with which we act when we come to action. This is thebeginning and the end of success, and all that lies between."
"But how is the word of command to come," said Father Priketes, who hadsecretly hoped for a little independent campaign, "if you are not withus? Must I not act on my own judgment?"
"No, a thousand times no," said Nicholas. "What I have seen here showsme that you in Megaspelaion and Patras will be no small portion of ourfirst success. How the war will spread afterwards, God knows; but whenthe first grapes are cut it will be you, so I think, to garner them.This is why you must obey absolutely. Nothing will be left to yourjudgment. A message will come, and you will obey."
"How am I to tell who your messenger is?"
Nicholas smiled.
"Some afternoon, when you are sitting in the spring sunshine, orperhaps some night in this next winter, when you are sleeping, a monkwill come to you and say, 'There is a man here, or a boy it may be, ora girl even, who wishes to see you, and we cannot understand what hemeans.' Then you will delay not, but go and see what it is. You willsay, 'I am Father Priketes; you have a message for me?' And the messagewill be in this form: 'I am bidden to ask you if there is corn to begiven to those who need it?' And you will say, 'Is it black corn theyneed, and are the needy hungry, or are they Turks?' And the messengerwill say, 'Send black corn for the Turks to Kalamata or Kalavryta, orwherever it is, and let two hundred or five hundred or a thousand mencarry it.' Other instructions may come as well, but always in thatform. And as you obey, so may the Lord give you a place among Hissaints in heaven."
Father Priketes was silent for a moment.
"You are right, Nicholas," he said; "and I swear by the picture of themother of God that I will obey in all things. Come, shall we go upagain?"
They climbed up into the chapel, and went out down the vaulted stonepassage to the story below, where another passage, whitewashed andboarded on both sides, led to the monks' library and Father Priketes'sown rooms. Nicholas, who carried in his hand an olive-wood stick,tapped the panelling carelessly as he went along, and once stopped amoment and smiled at Germanos.
"The wall seems to be a little less thick here than at other places,"he said. "Mehemet Salik, however, was too cunning to attend to suchsimple things."
"The Lord be praised for making so many clever men," said Germanos,piously. "To have a fool for an enemy has been the undoing of more goodpeople than Satan himself."
They went on to Father Priketes's room where they had supped before,and Nicholas lit himself a pipe.
"That is quite true," he said. "A fool is always blundering into theweak place by a
"For us," said Priketes, who had, as Nicholas once said, a wonderfulfaculty for seeing that which was obvious.
"As you say, for us," said Nicholas; "and we intend to profit by it.And now, father, with your leave I will go to bed. I have seen all Icame to see, and think I had better push on to-morrow. You will find,no doubt, a prudent place for your granary. It is impossible to betoo prudent now, just as it will be more than possible to be too waryhereafter. When once we get into the open we keep there until all isfinished."
"Where do you go now?" asked Germanos.
"Southwards," said Nicholas. "I must travel as widely as I can inMessenia, and also see my cousin Petrobey. The Maina district will beraised by him. If once the war begins, as I would have it to begin, Ishall be at ease about the rest. Only the beginning must be as suddenas the thunderbolt. Ah, but there is fever in my blood for that!"
Nicholas, as his custom was, rose early next morning and went from thedark-panelled room, where he had slept, down towards the chapel. Thegreat green bronze bell hanging in the wooden balcony outside had justbegun to ring for matins, and the sound, grave and sonorous, floatedout over the valley like a dream. He waited there awhile looking atthe blackened Byzantine paintings which covered the roof, till themonks began trooping up the cobbled passage, and with the first of themhe went inside the chapel. From the centre of the roof hung a greatgilt candelabrum in the form of a crown, and from side to side of thebuilding ran a row of silver lamps--some thirty in number--which hadbeen burning all night, but looked red and dim in the fresh morninglight. Set in the gilt altar-screen were the paintings of the Panagiaand of Christ, and at the south end--more precious to the faithful thanall--the wax relief of the Virgin and Child. The silver panel, behindwhich it is placed, had been opened, and Nicholas, with the others,made his obeisance before it. The head of the Virgin and the head ofthe Child are all that can be seen, and these are black with age; therest is one mass of chased gold. The crown which the Child wears isstudded with rubies and emeralds grown dim; His mother's crown is lessmagnificent; and on the silver rail in front of it hang the offeringsof those to whom, in the days of faith, its contemplation had broughthealing of many diseases. Over the gate to the altar hung two stoles ofred velvet, in which the priest who said the mass would robe himself.A border of gold holly leaves ran down them on each side, and down themiddle they were embroidered with floreated and cusped ornaments inred and gold, in the centre of each of which was worked the figure ofChrist. On the north wall, by the easternmost of the monks' stalls,hung the picture of the daughter of the Emperor Palaeologus. She isdressed in a red cloak with golden eagles embroidered over it; her hairis golden auburn, and she raises a face charmingly childlike and naive,and holds up hands of prayer to the gracious figure of the Virgin whostands beside her.
Priketes and Germanos were the last to enter, and when the shortprayers were said, Nicholas went out with them, and they walked upand down the terrace awhile talking. Some of the elder monks, withtheir purple cassocks trimmed with fur wrapped closely round them,sat outside the iron-sheeted gate, under the fresco of Adam and Evebeing driven out from Paradise, which fills the triangular space aboveit, watching them with eager attention, for it had become known whoNicholas was and what his errand. On their right rose the enormousmass of the monastery, crowned by an overhanging cliff of gray rock,which the smoke from the chimney had stained in places to a richvandyke-brown, in the hollow of which, as in the hollow of a shelteringhand, the great pile of buildings stood, seeming rather to have beenthe core round which the rock rose than to have been built into it. Infront the ground fell rapidly away into the valley, but was terraced upinto little gardens, full of cypresses and poplars or figs and planetrees; under these stood many little wooden arbors, trellised over withvines, where the brethren spent their tranquil days; and a hundredriotous streams--some conducted down wooden shoots, some straying overthe paths--rattled headlong to join the river below. Further down, thehill-side was covered with low-growing scrub, and on the opposite sideof the valley, the village of Zachlorou hung on by teeth and nails tothe climbing moor. A company of swallows cut curves and circles in thethin morning air, their black backs showing metallic, like oxidizedsteel in the sunlight, and a great flight of white pigeons clatteredout of the rock above and settled in a cloud by the fountain. In one ofthese little arbors Germanos and Nicholas drank their coffee and smokeda pipe of the monastery tobacco until the latter's horse was broughtround. Then, rising,
"We shall meet again," he said, "when the vintage is ripe, or, ifwe meet not, we shall both be laborers in the treading; you here, Iperhaps in the south. So now, father, give me your blessing, for I mustgo on my way."