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We had a Count Velo, a Count Sesso, a Count Trento all very amiable companions. They invited us to accompany them to the casino, where Madame C shone by her charms and her coquettish manners. After we had spent two hours in that place, P C invited all his new friends to supper, and it was a scene of gaiety and profusion.
She started on, but Zaidos put out his hand and detained her. "Just a moment, please," he said, smiling at her in his sunny way. "Is there a fellow here called Velo Kupenol? Tall fellow, thin, and looks a little like me perhaps?" "Perhaps not again," said the nurse, frowning a little. "Yes, your friend is here.
Velo was silent, and Zaidos returned to his cot, once more conscious of his fatigue and lameness. But Velo, turning to the wall, pressed his face to the hard mattress, and let the deadly hate he bore his cousin fill his very being. He pressed his hand on the stolen papers hidden in his kit. Zaidos must die. Zaidos must die! All his evil blood boiled in him.
"Get it over soon soon!" whispered the impatient Evil in his soul. Velo put a hand on his breast where the papers were hidden. Zaidos stooped and tightened the strap of his puttee. Velo watched him sneeringly. Zaidos was so maddeningly unconcerned. Velo wondered if he could be near anyone who hated him as he hated Zaidos and not feel and fear it.
There was a thread of hope for the man. Zaidos smiled. Velo knew he would get up The revolver sounded like a cannon. Zaidos, unhurt, got to his feet. He pressed a hand to his side. Velo watched him with fascinated eyes. Zaidos looked down. There was a cut across the service blouse between his sleeve and body, right under his left arm.
"Now then, get ashore with your wife, Velo," said Barry laughingly to the faithful Samoan; "perhaps Mrs. Tracey may come and see you and Paní this evening." "Of course I shall, Velo," said Mrs. Tracey, whose dark eyes were dancing with pleasure; "Toea and I mean to sleep ashore to-night with the Tebuan people, and come on board early in the morning. And I have some presents for little Paní."
While Zaidos, aided by Velo, continued his heart-rending task among the dead and wounded on that bloody field, now applying the tourniquet to some emptying artery, now administering, drop by drop, the stimulant needed to hold life in some poor fellow, hurrying back with others on their stretcher, or giving way to the fearless and pitiful priests who moved among the dying while all these things happened, it would be well to pause and reflect on the wise preparation which had made it possible for Zaidos to do well his allotted task.
The third letter was written in modern Greek, using the familiar "thee" and "thou" of intimate speech. My old Nurse Maratha: The war kept me from thee, when at last I could get away. I would have come to Saloniki if I could but I had an errand that took me straight to England. Velo is dead, Maratha. He was shot in the big battle. You must have been praying when he died, if I know thee still.
"But if he is my cousin, I must say he is one of the most stubborn fellows I have ever known." "Is that so?" thought Zaidos, keeping his eyes shut tight. He thought there would be no more talk about him, but the doctor went on, "He doesn't look it." "No," said Velo, "but he is. I thought I would never be able to rescue him from that sinking transport.
Finally the aching grew so intense that it drove him to an upright position, although for a moment things whirled, and he was forced to close his eyes. When he looked he saw Velo, the anguish and pallor and amazement of death written on his face, lying doubled against Zaidos' knee.
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