'It was, of course, the gods who, feeling that he was being done dirt, had put Pegasus in his way. While he slept, Athene appeared to him in a dream and laid beside him a golden bridle. When he awoke, sure enough there it was. Pegasus submitted like a lamb to the bit being slipped between his teeth, and the rest was easy. Bellerophon settled the Chimaera's business with half a dozen arrows, then made a perfect landing, cut off the beast's head and tail, and flew back in triumph with them to lobates.
'The King was delighted at these proofs that the Chimaera's goose was cooked, but more put out than ever about how to deal with his guest. Still feeling that he ought not to let down Proetus, ue sent Bellerophon on two more missions: first to perform a ' High Noon" act as the lone sheriff against a small army of cattle rustlers, then against the Amazons. But, looping the loop °n Pegasus, Bellerophon played merry hell with both these menaces to the gracious life.
'After that, Iobates took the view that his pa-in-law must have been one over the odds when he wrote the letter, because no one could have done what Bellerophon had done unless he was beloved by the gods; so he called it a day and gave him his daughter in marriage.
'Unfortunately, that is not quite the end of the story. Bellerophon became so Johnny-head-in-air about his exploits that he forgot that the Chimaera would probably have made Toast Melba out of him with its breath, if it hadn't been for Athene's lending him Pegasus. He decided that he was entitled to the entree into Olympus and he attempted to gatecrash without having been put up for the Club. As the oldest member present, Zeus called a committee meeting and they sent a gadfly to sting Pegasus on his plump behind. Naturally he bucked like billy-oh, Bellerophon was tossed off and hit the ground with a thump that left him lame for the rest of his life.'
'I suppose,' Stephanie smiled, 'that's where we get our expression "Pride comes before a fall".'
As they walked back towards the car along the stone-paved streets, Stephanie remarked on one of them being buckled into a hump that rose several feet above the normal level, and asked what could have caused it.
'An earthquake,' Robbie replied at once. 'The crust of the earth must be very thin right along the Gulf of Corinth, and in several other parts of Greece. As you must know, Greece has suffered a lot from earthquakes all through her history, and hardly a year goes by without some village or other being destroyed by one.'
As they drove back through the vineyards of tall-staked vines that produce the currants which have made Corinth famous, he said: 'I think after dinner I'll walk down to the Villa Dione. It will be too early for me to find out what type of machinery the Czechs intend to use, but I'd like to take just a peep through that postern gate I told you about and make certain that they have arrived.'
At the hotel they had a belated siesta, so they did not meet again until shortly before dinner. Over the meal Stephanie endeavoured to persuade him to give up his intention; but he was so keyed up at the prospect of it that he would not listen to her.
About half-past-nine, after they had whiled away an hour with coffee and liqueurs, he smiled good-bye to her and set off on the fifteen-minute walk to the seashore to the west of the town.
As he approached the villa, he saw that there were lights in several of the windows, and, by the light of the moon, which was just rising, that a large caique lay at anchor off the villa's private beach.
Having secured ample evidence that the Czechs were in occupation, he was in half a mind to turn back; but the temptation to sneak into the garden and find out, if he could, where the Czechs had stored their machinery proved too much for him.
Walking swiftly to the door in the wall, he pushed it open and stepped inside.
He had taken no more than a couple of paces when, with a loud shout, a figure leapt at him from out of the darkness. A blow on the side of his face sent him reeling. Next moment there came a chorus of excited cries and a little crowd of shadowy figures came tumbling out through a pair of french windows at the back of the villa.
Recovering his balance, he struck out at his assailant. It was a lucky blow. With a gasp, th,e man went over backward into the thick undergrowth. Spinning round, Robbie sprang back through the still open doorway and took to his heels. But the pack was after him in full cry.
Sprinting for all he was worth, he kept his lead until he was among the buildings on the outskirts of the town. Praying that he might be seen by a policeman, who would come to his rescue, he raced on. But there is no night-life in Corinth, and the side streets were deserted.
His breath was coming painfully, and with every bound he took he was conscious that his pursuers were gaining on him. They were silent now, but the rhythm of their swift footfalls on the pavement held for him a terrible menace. He knew that if they caught him he would be in for a most brutal handling.
Suddenly an outstretched hand fell on his shoulder. Swerving, he jerked it off. But he realized now that at any moment, unless he turned to fight, he might be slugged on the head. He had reached a gap between two houses of the kind often seen in Greek towns. Above a low balustrade there ran an iron railing. Beyond it was a wide pit shrouded in darkness. Down it there would be a few pillars and big slabs of stone half submerged in weeds and tall grass—the remains of some temple or small theatre that was of little importance and not worth excavating further, but was a protected site on which, by an Act of the Greek Government, it was forbidden to build.
Backing up against the parapet, he hit out at the nearest figure to him. Again it was a lucky blow. With a curse, the man went down. But there were half a dozen others and they closed in, raining blows on him. He was taller than any of them and managed to protect his face, but he was struck a dozen times about his arms and body.
Vaguely, by the moonlight, he saw another figure come panting up behind the rest, and heard a shout: 'Leave him to me, boys. I'll soon settle him.' As the others drew back, he found himself face to face with the enormously broad-shouldered figure of Stoll. With a grunt, the barrel-chested Sudentenlander hurled himself at Robbie. Before he had a chance to hit out, Stoll had flung his long arms round him and seized him in a gorilla-like embrace. Pesperately, Robbie strove to break free. His breath was coming in gasps. He felt himself being crushed in that terrible grip. His utmost efforts to break Stoll's hold were of no avail. For a minute or more, they staggered backward and forward, then Stoil forced Robbie back against the parapet. Its brickwork hit him behind the knees and the iron railing bit into his back.
Suddenly, the rusty railing gave. Robbie went backward, carrying Stoli with him. As they plunged the eight feet into the thick grass below, still clasping one another in a fierce embrace, they turned threequarters of a somersault. The Sudetenlander landed on his back with Robbie on top of him. He gave a long, agonized groan and his arms fell away from Robbie. For a moment, Robbie lay panting on his gross body, then he lurched to his feet.
Stoll's companions now lined the parapet, exclaiming excitedly together. But there was no way down into the little ruin and none of them was brave enough to face the drop. Robbie staggered away in the opposite direction. Twice he collided with large blocks of stone half hidden in the grass, and once fell with hands outstretched into a patch of stinging nettles. Oblivious of the pain, he blundered on until he reached the far side of the ruin. Beyond it, there was another street that bordered it on a lower level. Still a prey to terror that he would be caught, he somehow managed to scale the five-foot wall and climb over the parapet. Fear lending him new strength, he began to run again, and broke into a walk only when he was within a hundred yards of his hotel.