They shrieked, and stared, horror-stricken, at a clump of bushes. I looked in the same direction, and perceived half a dozen gun-barrels gleaming among the leaves. Then eight ruffians appeared; and I saw that the only difference between devils and brigands is that devils are less black than is said, and brigands much dirtier than is supposed. They took all our money and jewelery, and then allowed Dimitri to depart—I guessed why—and led the two ladies and myself down the hill, and up a winding path on to a high plateau, where Hadgi Stavros and his band were now encamped.
The King of the Mountains was sitting, cross-legged, on a square carpet beneath a pine-tree, a little way from his noisy, crowded camp. Four secretaries were writing on their knees to his dictation. He was undoubtedly a man of majestic appearance. He had a fine figure—tall, supple, and marvelously preserved—and calm, noble features. The only indications of old age were his long white hair and long white moustaches. His dress was very simple—a jacket of black cloth, immense blue cotton trousers, large boots of Russian leather, and a loose red cap. A jeweled belt was the only costly thing he wore.
He raised his head at our approach.
“You are very welcome,” he said with great gravity. “Please sit down while I finish dictating my letters.”
His servant brought us refreshments, consisting of coffee, Turkish delight, and preserved fruit. Having put us at our ease, the king went on with his correspondence.
“This,” he said, “is to Messrs. Barley and Co., 31 Cavendish Square, London.”
“Excuse me, sire,” said his secretary, bending over and whispering in his ear.
“What does it matter?” said the king in a haughty tone. “I’ve done nothing wrong. Let all the world come and listen if they want to. Now, take this down.”
And he dictated the following letter:
“Gentlemen,—I observe by your note of April 5 that I now have L22,750 on current account. Please invest half of this sum in 3 per cent. Consols and half in bearer bonds before the coupons are detached. I shall be obliged if you will sell my shares in the Bank of England, and put the proceeds in London omnibuses. That will be a safe investment and, I think, a profitable one. Your obedient servant,
“Hadgi Stavros.
“P. S. Oblige
me by sending a hundred guineas to Messrs. Ralli
Brothers as my subscription
towards the Hellenic School at
Liverpool.”
Mrs. Simons, who, like her daughter, did not speak Greek, leaned towards me.
“Mr. Schultz, is he dictating the terms of our ransom?” she asked.
“No, madam,” I replied. “He is writing to his bankers.”
Mrs. Simons turned to the box of Turkish delight. I found more pleasure in listening to the king’s business correspondence. It was extraordinarily interesting.