'That's settled then. I take it we shan't be going across the gulf to see the ruins at Pleuron until Monday; so I could give you your first lesson tomorrow morning.'
Her suggestion jerked his thoughts on to a very different track. On Monday he had to be in Patras to see the Bratislava dock, and find out all he could about the people who came ashore from her. Then the group that was landed might not remain in Patras, hut set off inland. Should they do that, unless he was to fall down on the job he had set himself he must follow them in order to learn where the villa was that they were to occupy while they did their prospecting. After that, events might prevent his returning to Patras, and it would look very queer to Stephanie if, having talked to her so much about his book and stressed his desire to visit the ruins of Pleuron, he should leave Patras without doing so.
After a moment, he said: 'No, I'm afraid tomorrow's no good. You see, I've got to be here to transact some more business on
Monday; so tomorrow may be our only chance of going to Calydon and Pleuron.'
'What time do you with us to start?' she asked.
'That depends on the times the ferry goes; but I should like to leave fairly early, so as not to have to rush things on the other side.'
'In that case,' said Stephanie, seizing on the excuse to escape any more of the arduous dancing she had brought on herself, 'I think we ought to go back to the hotel soon, so that we can get some sleep.'
'Oh not yet!' he protested. 'It's only just on midnight, and I'm enjoying myself so much.'
'I'm glad.' She gave him a little smile, but added firmly: 'You forget, though, that I have to do the driving, and that the roads over there are certain to be awful.'
Immediately contrite, Robbie began to apologize for his thoughtlessness, but with a flutter of her fingers she checked him and went on: 'I think, too, you would be wise to order a picnic lunch. That is, unless you like goat's meat, sour cream and resinated wine, because there is not usually much else to be had in Greece once you get off the beaten track.'
He grinned at her. 'What a splendid secretary you make. I shall have to raise your wages.'
'I haven't had any yet,' she countered, with a laugh. 'But don't worry. I'm rather enjoying my job of looking after you.'
They finished their second bottle of the Achaia champagne, then the waiter got them a taxi. During the short run back to the hotel, Robbie was sorely tempted to take and squeeze the small, firm hand that he had recently held while dancing. But he did not dare. This new relationship was the sort of thing he had dreamed of, but feared to be far beyond his powers ever to establish. Suddenly, almost overnight, he was experiencing unalloyed delights which, every moment he was in Stephanie's company, made him feel in the seventh heaven. To have taken the risk of doing the slightest thing that might lead to this sweet-scented, glamorous being ceasing to smile upon him would have been sheer madness.
At the hotel, the night porter produced the time-table for the ferry service, and they decided to take one leaving at nine-forty-five. Robbie gave orders for a picnic basket and for the car to be brought round at nine o'clock, then they went up to their rooms.
Next morning, they set off in good time and drove the few miles to the little harbour of Rion, at the narrow entrance of the great Corinthian gulf. Opposite it, only two kilometres away, lay another small harbour, Andirrion, to which they were going. As it was a Sunday, instead of the odd, dusty lorry and herds of sheep and goats which would normally have made up the ferry's freight, it was empty except for a battered Ford and two cyclists.
On their way over, Robbie pointed out to Stephanie the roofs of a small township about three miles away. 'You Greeks,' he said, 'call that little town Navpaktos, but in the history books of every language it is known as Lepanto. I was telling you on Friday how, at the battle of Salamis, the West was saved from coming under the heel of Persia. In the bay there, some two thousand years later, another great naval battle was fought that again saved the West from becoming enslaved to Asia. A fleet of two hundred Turkish galleys was destroyed there by the combined forces of Venice, Spain, Genoa and the Knights of Malta, under Don John of Austria. If he hadn't won, it's quite on the cards that, today we would all be Mohammedans.'
'It didn't save the Greeks from having those horrid Turks on their necks for a long time afterwards, though,' Stephanie remarked.
'No,' Robbie agreed. 'You had to put up a terrific fight before you won your independence. On our way to Pleuron, we shall be going through Missolonghi and, as I expect you know, that was one of the stoutest centres of resistance. Rather than surrender to an army of thirty thousand Turks, who had been besieging it for weeks, the Greek leader, Khristos Kapsalis, blew up the magazine and killed three thousand of his own people. Nine or ten thousand others were captured and sold as slaves, but he got away to the hills.'
Stephanie nodded. 'It's much more famous on account of Lord Byron. For a man of that kind to have roughed it serving with the patriot guerilla bands, until he became so weak from fever that he died, fills me with real admiration.'
After landing, they headed west and, near the township of Krioneri, got out to see the ruins of Calydon. In ancient times it must have been a considerable town, as there were acres of stone foundations, fallen pillar drums and big, up-ended blocks, mostly half overgrown with coarse grass and nettles. Excavations had brought to light part of a temple, but there was little else of interest; so they returned to the town and drove across the moor to Missolonghi.
It differed little from hundreds of other small towns in Greece. There were few modern buildings and much evidence of poverty; but the peasants, dressed in their Sunday best, looked clean and healthy, and waved cheerful greetings. Without stopping in the town, they ran on for another five kilometres, which brought them to Pleuron.
The place had far more to show than Calydon. A great part of its walls were still standing, and many of its thirty-odd towers, and, near the east rampart, a terrace, with ruined shrines along it, There were seven great gateways, a small theatre, a vast cistern over a hundred and fifty yards long. It was there that they decided to eat their picnic lunch. Few travellers visited this remote ruined city, and at that hour not a soul was to be seen in any direction; so few spots could have been pleasanter.
Having gnawed the meat from a wing of chicken and eaten a three-cornered pasty stuffed with liver and rice, Stephanie began to peel an enormous orange and said: 'Come along, Robbie. Tell me what happened here.'
He spat out some of the pips from a big mandarine and admitted: 'I'm sorry, I don't really know. I suppose there were the usual processions and dances and sacrifices.'
'What! No stories of maidens having a thin time of it owing to the attention of winged lions, or of a lady being seduced by a gentleman who had disguised himself as a bunch of grapes?'
'No, I'm afraid not. It's a curious thing but, although Olympus is up in northern Greece, nearly all the adventures of the gods and Heroes seem to have taken place either in the Peloponnesus or overseas. That is, except for the neighbourhood of Athens and, of course, Thebes.'
Tell me about Thebes, then.'
T don't want to bore you,' he forced himself, out of politeness, to say. 'After all, I talked to you about the gods and goddesses during nearly the whole of our drive from Athens.'
*I know.' Stephanie was sitting in a moss-covered niche, between two great stones, and now she lay back in it. 'But I'll have to make a start on this book of yours soon, and the more I know about its background the better. If I fall asleep, you can always give me a gentle prod.'