Shelled by an Unseen Foe | Page 4

behold his only son once more
had placed the boy in a position of the gravest danger; indeed, in the
path of almost certain death. What the effect of this knowledge would
be on his health, Zaidos trembled to consider. But he was powerless to
avoid the shock to his father, and once more shrugging his shoulders he
stepped into line.
After a tedious delay, during which the men and boys who were
unaccustomed to any sort of drill shifted uneasily from foot to foot,
shuffled, twisted, and fretted generally, while Zaidos alone stood easily
at attention, the order was given for the squad to go into another room.
Here they were registered, examined physically, and equipped with
uniforms. Then they were finally taken to the mess hall and provided
with a wholesome, plain meal which they proceeded to enjoy to the
utmost. Zaidos could not eat. He toyed with the food, his quick brain
ever planning some way by which he could get to his father. The more
he thought of it the more it seemed to be his duty to do so at any cost.
But he seemed surrounded by barriers. He could not see a way clear. So
he resigned himself for the present, and marched to the dormitory
where his squad was quartered. It had been a trying and exhausting day
for everyone and his peasant companions, accustomed to bed-time at
sunset, soon threw themselves down and slept.
The sleeping quarters were on the ground floor. Zaidos found his pallet
behind a great door opening on the street. It was open a trifle, but a
heavy chain secured it from opening any further. Zaidos stuck his head
out. There was enough space for that. It was the blackest night he had
ever seen, if one could be said to see anything as dark.
A sentry padded up and down in the blackness. Zaidos smiled. The man
could certainly not see five feet ahead of him. All the city lights were
out for safety's sake. As he approached, Zaidos drew back, and lay
staring at the ceiling.
A stifled sob startled him. He turned. On the next pallet a young fellow
lay face downward, and muffled his weeping in the coarse blanket. For
an hour Zaidos listened. The shaken breathing and occasional sobs

continued. Zaidos could stand it no longer. He reached over and let a
friendly clasp fall on the heaving shoulder.
"What is it?" he whispered in his best Greek.
The young fellow turned to him eagerly, glad of sympathy. In a rush of
words that made it hard for Zaidos to understand, he whispered his
story. There was a wife and a little, little baby, "Oh, so little!" far up on
the mountain-side; they would starve; surely, surely they would starve!
They did not know what had become of him. Zaidos tried in vain to
calm the man. He could not do so and finally dropped into a restless
sleep with the man's stifled sobs ringing in his ears.
Zaidos had to concede that the man's fate was a hard one. He was only
nineteen years of age. The girl-wife was seventeen. As Zaidos dropped
asleep he was reflecting that no doubt nine-tenths of the men sleeping
in that room carried burdens as well as the young mountaineer and
himself.
He was wakened awhile later by a touch on the shoulder nearest the
door. A voice addressed him. For a moment Zaidos was unable to
locate it. Then he discovered that it was coming from the partly open
door. It was the young husband who had sobbed in the dark.
"Waken, friend!" said the low whisper. "Waken! Farewell! I go! There
is a small packet under my pallet. I forgot it. Will you hand it quickly
before the sentry turns?"
"Don't do a fool stunt like that," said Zaidos in English.
The deserter repeated, "Quickly, quickly!" and as Zaidos handed him
the packet he disappeared, the night swallowing him in its blackness.
Zaidos crawled to the door and, flat on the floor, put his head out the
opening into the street. All was quiet. The sentry marched up and down
the long block with the dragging slowness of a weary man. The
mountaineer had escaped!
Somewhere a clock struck eleven booming strokes. Zaidos could not

believe that it was so early, but immediately another faint chime
verified the first. Here and there in the room heavy snoring or muttered
words sounded. There were no guards in the room as the door was
locked.
Eleven o'clock! Five hours before daylight. A daring thought flashed
into Zaidos' head. He knelt and once more leaned through the opening
of the door. He thanked his schoolboy leanness. There was enough
space! He waited until the sentry's heavy footfall dragged to