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Updated: June 17, 2025
"What happened to those Bulgarians?" demanded Hallen. Coburn told him precisely what he'd seen when he arrived in Náousa after an eight-mile hike through mountains. Then he went back and told Hallen precisely what he'd seen up on the cliffside. "His cameras were some sort of weapon. He played it on the marching column, it took effect and they went to sleep," he finished.
He seemed calm; his face bore a slow sardonic smile; he was unarmed, drawn back against the concavity of the wall, watching me with his steady, keen eyes. Behind him through the low window, I saw the white ground now far below us; we were rising swiftly. "So you brought my Lady Elza back to me, Jac Hallen?" He got no further, for with a leap I was upon him.
Allen, as he handed the old man a little package he had taken from his haversack. Dad took it, smelled it through the paper; then a pleased smile spread over his face. "Smells like grains o' gold, Mr. Hallen. Thank ye. As fer me health, never was no better sence I been here. A man can't git sick a livin' out in this yere country all his life.
"We may be official guests, or we may be crazy. It's a toss-up which status sticks." He opened the door and looked carefully inside before he entered. Hallen was there. There was a lean, hard-bitten colonel of the American liaison force in Greece. There was a Greek general, pudgy and genial, standing with his back to a window and his hands clasped behind him.
"I was worried about you." The roaring of motors outside the hospital interrupted them. More and more vehicles arrived, until a deep purring filled the air. A Greek doctor with a worried expression hurried somewhere. Soldiers appeared, hard-bitten, tough, professional Greek soldiers. Hallen came out of a hospital room.
He was not tall, but very strong, and well built. Grot. p. 478. Menagiana. Hist. du Socinianisme, c. 42. p. 831. Observat. Hallen. 15. t. 7. p. 341. It is a prayer addressed to Jesus Christ, and suited to the condition of a dying person who builds his hope on the Mediator. M. Le Clerc has recited it at large in the Sentimens de quelques Theologiens de Hollande, 17 Lettre, p. 397. Memoirs, p. 431.
Ordinarily she would have jumped up, exclaiming angrily in Greek, and then she would have pursued the fly vengefully with a folded newspaper until she killed it. But now she ignored it. Hallen came in, stamping. Coburn closed the door behind him. He felt queer at the pit of his stomach. For Helena to let a fly stay on her neck suggested that her skin was ... somehow not like its usual self.
"What have you to gain by playing for time?" I demanded. He stared. "You would question me, Jac Hallen? How absurd!" He looked at Elza, as though to share with her his amazement at my temerity. Wolfgar said suddenly to Tarrano: "You will gain nothing." Tarrano's face went impassive. I understood him better now; that cold, inscrutable look often concealed his strongest emotions.
"It is very beautiful, eh, Jac Hallen?" "Beautiful yes. You've been here before, Wolfgar?" He nodded. "Oh yes. Soon we will reach the Great City. That too is strange and beautiful." Elza saw us together and joined us. The Great City presently came into distant view. Wolfgar, with that gentle voice and smile characteristic of him began to describe to us what we should see.
As though by intuition now, she seemed to realize that they were not far from the Great City. Her thoughts leaped to me Jac Hallen there in Maida's palace. Tarrano's grim, sinister purpose was as yet unknown to her. But she guessed that in it, danger impended for me for all of us in the Great City. "Jac! Danger! Jac! Danger!"
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