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CHAPTER　IX。

COLEMAN'S　dragoman　aroused　him　in　the　blue　before　dawn。　The　correspondent　arrayed　himself　in　one　of　his　new　khaki　suits…　riding　breeches　and　a　tunic　well　marked　with　buttoned　pockets…　and　accompanied　by　some　of　his　beautiful　brown　luggage；　they　departed　for　the　station。

The　ride　to　Patras　is　a　terror　under　ordinary　circumstances。　It　begins　in　the　early　morning　and　ends　in　the　twilight。　To　Coleman；　having　just　come　from　Patras　to　Athens；　this　journey　from　Athens　to　Patras　had　all　the　exasperating　elements　of　a　forced　recantation。　Moreover；　he　had　not　come　prepared　to　view　with　awe　the　ancient　city　of　Corinth　nor　to　view　with　admiration　the　limpid　beauties　of　the　gulf　of　that　name　with　its　olive　grove　shore。　He　was　not　stirred　by　Parnassus；　a　far…away　snow…field　high　on　the　black　shoulders　of　the　mountains　across　the　gulf。　No；　he　wished　to　go　to　Nikopolis。　He　passed　over　the　graves　of　an　ancient　race　the　gleam　of　whose　mighty　minds　shot；　hardly　dimmed；　through　the　clouding　ages。　No；　he　wished　to　go　to　Nikopolis。　The　train　went　at　a　snail's　pace；　and　if　Coleman　bad　an　interest　it　was　in　the　people　who　lined　the　route　and　cheered　the　soldiers　on　the　train。　In　Coleman　s　compartment　there　was　a　greasy　person　who　spoke　a　little　English。　He　explained　that　he　was　a　poet；　a　poet　who　now　wrote　of　nothing　but　war。　When　a　man　is　in　pursuit　of　his　love　and　success　is　known　to　be　at　least　remote；　it　often　relieves　his　strain　if　he　is　deeply　bored　from　time　to　time。

The　train　was　really　obliged　to　arrive　finally　at　Patras　even　if　it　was　a　tortoise；　and　when　this　happened；　a　hotel　runner　appeared；　who　lied　for　the　benefit　of　the　hotel　in　saying　that　there　was　no　boat　over　to　Mesalonghi　that　night。　When；　all　too　late；　Coleman　discovered　the　truth　of　the　matter　his　wretched　dragoman　came　in　for　a　period　of　infamy　and　suffering。　However；　while　strolling　in　the　plaza　at　Patras；　amid　newsboys　from　every　side；　by　rumour　and　truth；　Coleman　learned　things　to　his　advantage。　A　Greek　fleet　was　bombarding　Prevasa。　Prevasa　was　near　Nikopolis。　The　opposing　armies　at　Arta　were　　engaged；　principally　in　an　artillery　duel。　Arta　was　on　the　road　from　Nikopolis　into　Greece。　Hearing　this　news　in　the　sunlit　square　made　him　betray　no　weakness；　but　in　the　darkness　of　his　room　at　the　hotel；　he　seemed　to　behold　Marjory　encircled　by　insurmountable　walls　of　flame。　He　could　look　out　of　his　window　into　the　black　night　of　the　north　and　feel　every　ounce　of　a　hideous　circumstance。　It　appalled　him；　here　was　no　power　of　calling　up　a　score　of　reporters　and　sending　them　scampering　to　　accomplish　everything。　He　even　might　as　well　have　been　without　　a　tongue　as　far　as　it　could　serve　him　in　goodly　speech。　He　was　　alone；　confronting　the　black　ominous　Turkish　north　behind　which　　were　the　deadly　flames；　behind　the　flames　was　Marjory。　It　worked　upon　him　until　he　felt　obliged　to　call　in　his　dragoman；　and　then；　　seated　upon　the　edge　of　his　bed　and　waving　his　pipe　eloquently；　he　　described　the　plight　of　some　very　dear　friends　who　were　cut　off　at　Nikopolis　in　Epirus。　Some　of　his　talk　was　almost　wistful　in　its　wish　　for　sympathy　from　his　servant；　but　at　the　end　he　bade　the　dragoman　understand　that　be；　Coleman；　was　going　to　their　rescue；　and　he　defiantly　asked　the　hireling　if　he　was　prepared　to　go　with　him。　But　he　did　not　know　the　Greek　nature。　In　two　minutes　the　　dragoman　was　weeping　tears　of　enthusiasm；　and；　for　these　tears；　Coleman　was　over…grateful；　because　he　had　not　been　told　that　any　of　the　more　crude　forms　of　sentiment　arouse　the　common　Greek　to　the　highest　pitch；　but　sometimes；　when　it　comes　to　what　the　Americans　call　a　〃show　down；〃　when　he　gets　backed　toward　his　last　corner　with　a　solitary　privilege　of　dying　for　these　sentiments；　perhaps　he　does　not　always　exhibit　those　talents　which　are　supposed　to　be　possessed　by　the　bulldog。　He　often　then；　goes　into　the　cafes　and　take's　it　out　in　oration；　like　any　common　Parisian。

In　the　morning　A　steamer　carried　them　across　the　strait　and　landed　them　near　Mesalonghi　at　the　foot　of　the　railroad　that　leads　to　Agrinion。　At　Agrinion　Coleman　at　last　began　to　feel　that　he　was　nearing　his　goal。　There　were　plenty　of　soldiers　in　the　town；　who　received　with　delight　and　applause　this　gentleman　in　the　distinguished…looking　khaki　clothes　with　his　revolver　and　his　field　glasses　and　his　canteen　and；　his　dragoman。　The　dragoman　lied；　of　course；　and　vocifcrated　that　the　gentleman　in　the　distinguished…looking　khaki　clothes　was　an　English　soldier　of　reputation；　who　had；　naturally；　come　to　help　the　cross　in　its　fight　against；　the　crescent。　He　also　said　that　his　master　had　three　superb　horses　coming　from　Athens　in　charge　of　a　groom；　and　was　undoubtedly　going　to　join　the　cavalry。　Whereupon　the　soldiers　wished　to　embrace　and　kiss　the　gentleman　in　the　distinguished…looking　khaki　clothes。

There　was　more　or　less　of　a　scuffle。　Coleman　would　have　taken　to　kicking　and　punching；　but　he　found　that　by　a…　series　of　elusive　movements　he　could　dodge　the　demonstrations　of　affection　without　losing　his　popularity。　Escorted　by　the　soldiers；　citizens；　children　and　dogs；　he　went　to　the　diligence　which　was　to　take　him　and　others　the　next　stage　of　the　journey。　As　the　diligence　proceeded；　Coleman's　mind　suffered　another　little　inroad　of　ill…fate　as　to　the　success　of　his　expedition。　In　the　first　place　it　appeared　foolish　to　expect　that　this　diligence　would　ever　arrive　anywhere。　Moreover；　the　accommodations　were　about　equal　to　what　one　would　endure　if　one　undertook　to　sleep　for　a　night　in　a　tree。　Then　there　was　a　devil…dog；　a　little　black…and…tan　terrier　in　a　blanket　gorgeous　and　belled；　whose　duty　it　was　to　stand　on　the　top　of　the　coach　and　bark　incessantly　to　keep　the　driver　fully　aroused　to　the　enormity　of　his　occupation。　To　have　this　cur　silenced　either　by　strangulation　or　ordinary　clubbing；　Coleman　struggled　with　his　dragoman　as　Jacob　struggled　with　the　angel；　but　in　the　first　place；　the　dragoman　was　a　Greek　whose　tongue　could　go　quite　drunk；　a　Greek　who　became　a　slave　to　the　heralding　and　establishment　of　one　certain　fact；　or　lie；　and　now　he　was　engaged　in　describing　to　every　village　and　to　all　the　country　side　the　prowess　of　the　gentleman　in　the　distinguished…looking　khaki　clothes。　It　was　the　general　absurdity　of　this　advance　to　the　frontier　and　the　fighting；　to　the　crucial　place　where　he　was　resolved　to　make　an　attempt　to　rescue　his　sweetheart　；　it　was　this　ridiculous　aspect　that　caused　to　come　to　Coleman　a　premonition　of　failure。　No　knight　ever　went　out　to　recover　a　lost　love　in　such　a　diligence　and　with　such　a　devil…dog；　tinkling　his　little　bells　and　yelping　insanely　to　keep　the　driver　awake。　After　night…fall　they　arrived　at　a　town　on　the　southern　coast　of　the　Gulf　of　Arta　and　the　goaded　dragoman　was…thrust　forth　from　the　little　inn　into　the　street　to　find　the　first　possible　means　of　getting　on　to　Arta。　He　returned　at　last　to　tremulously　say　that　　there　was　no　single　chance　of　starting　for　Arta　that　night。　Where　　upon　he　was　again　thrust　into　the　street　with　orders；　strict　orders。　In　due　time；　Coleman　spread　his　rugs　upon　the　floor　of　his　little　room　and　thought　himself　almost　asleep；。　when　the　dragoman　entered　with　a　really　intelligent　man　who；　for　some　reason；　had　agreed　to　consort　with　him　in　the　business　of　getting　the　stranger　off　to　Arta。　They　announced　that　there　was　a　brigantine　about　to　sail　with　a　load　of　soldiers　for　a　little　port　near　Arta；　and　if　Coleman　hurried　he　could　catch　it；　permission　from　an　officer　having　already　been　obtained。　He　was　up　at　once；　and　the　dragoman　and　the　unaccountably　intelligent　person　hastily　gathered　his　chattels。　Stepping　out　into　a　black　street　and　moving　to　the　edge　of　black　water　and　embarking　in　a　black　boat　filled　with　soldiers　whose　rifles　dimly　shone；　was　as　impressive　to　Coleman　as　if；　really；　it　had　been　the　first　start。　He　had　endured　many　starts；　it　was　true；　but　the　latest　one　always　touched　him　as　being　conclusive。

There　were　no　lights　on　the　brigantine　and　the　men　swung　precariously　up　her　sides　to　the　deck　which　was　already　occupied　by　a　babbling　multitude。　The　dragoman　judiciously　found　a　place　for　his　master　where　during　the　night　the　latter　had　to　move　quickly　everytime　the　tiller　was　shifted　to　starboard。

The　craft　raised　her　shadowy　sails　and　swung　slowly　off　into　the　deep　gloom。　Forward；　some　of　the　soldiers　began　to　sing　weird　minor　melodies。　Coleman；　enveloped　in　his　rugs；　…smoked　three　or　four　cigars。　He　was　content　and　miserable；　lying　there；　hearing　these　melodies　which　defined　to　him　his　own　affairs。

At　dawn　they　were　at　the　little　port。　First；　in　the　carmine　and　grey　tints　from　a　sleepy　sun；　they　could　see　little　mobs　of　soldiers　working　amid　boxes　of　stores。　And　then　from　the　back　in　some　dun　and　green　hills　sounded　a　deep…throated　thunder　of　artillery　　An　officer　gave　Coleman　and　his　dragoman　positions　in　one　of　the　first　boats；　but　of　course　it　could　not　be　done　without　an　almost　endless　amount　of　palaver。　Eventually　they　landed　with　their　traps。　Coleman　felt　through　the　sole　of　his　boot　his　foot　upon　the　shore。　He　was　within　striking　distance。

But　here　it　was　smitten　into　the　head　of　Coleman's　servant　to　turn　into　the　most　inefficient　dragoman；　probably　in　the　entire　E