“How horrible!” said Lucy-Ann. “Have you been on Oupos?”
“Yes, once,” said Lucian. “I saw the holes for the dungeons too. Nearly fell down one myself.”
“What do you mean — holes for the dungeons?” asked Philip.
“Well — the yard of the old castle was pitted with holes — deep, very deep holes,” explained Lucian. “And when a prisoner was landed on the island he was dragged to the great yard and popped down the nearest hole. He fell down, down into the dungeons below, and joined the other prisoners there.”
“How awful! Couldn’t he get out again?” asked Jack, in horror.
“No. The only way out was up the steep, deep holes,” said Lucian. “No one could climb up those.”
“But how were the prisoners fed?” asked Philip.
“Easy,” said Lucian. “The guards just went to the holes each day and tipped food down.”
“I don’t know whether to believe that or not,” said Jack.
“I tell you, I’ve been on the island and seen the holes,” insisted Lucian. “Of course, the dungeons aren’t used now — the yard is all overgrown, and you can hardly see the dungeon holes. That’s how I nearly fell down one.”
“Would you have been there till you were old?” asked Lucy-Ann.
“Of course not. My uncle would have got a rope and hauled me up,” said Lucian. “I should probably have broken my leg though.”
“Tell us some more tales about these old islands,” said Jack. “I wouldn’t mind visiting one or two!”
“Well, I daresay we could, if I asked my uncle,” said Lucian surprisingly.
“What do you mean? What’s your uncle got to do with it?” demanded Philip. “You talk as if he owned the islands.”
“He does own quite a few,” said Lucian. “Didn’t I tell you? It’s a craze of his, I think. He buys this one and that one, explores it thoroughly — and then maybe he gets tired of it and sells it again.”
The four children looked at Lucian to see if he was telling the truth. It seemed extraordinary to them that anyone should buy and sell islands as if they were cakes or something.
“But — what does he do it for?” asked Jack. “I mean — is he interested in old things — is he looking for antiques or something?”
“He’s very interested in history,” said Lucian. “Yes, and in old things generally. You should see his house in Athens. He’s got the most marvellous collection of things from these old islands. He’s crazy about them.”
The children thought about Lucian’s uncle. They couldn’t tell if he was crazy or not. He seemed an ordinary, rather cross grown-up to them, hard to size up because he always wore dark glasses, and they couldn’t see his eyes.
“You don’t know what people are thinking if you can’t see their eyes,” Lucy-Ann said, and it was true.
“I expect I get my liking for history from my uncle,” said Lucian. “I’m always top in that. Bottom in everything else, of course. And I loathe games.”
“Yes, you’ve told us that before,” said Jack.
“But only about fifteen times,” put in Dinah.
“Oh, I say!” said Lucian. “Sorry! It’s just that I do detest them so much.”
“Sixteen times,” said Lucy-Ann.
“Goosey-Lucy,” remarked Kiki, very aptly the children thought. They grinned at one another. Lucian was a goose, a silly, credulous, aggravating, tiresome goose, a nit-wit and a rabbit — but he was quite harmless and caused them a lot of amusement.
“To come back to your uncle,” said Jack. “Do you honestly mean he owns some of these exciting islands?”
“Oh yes. He doesn’t own Oupos now. But he owns the one we’ll soon be passing. That’ll be Helios. He’s about finished with it now, though. He sent his men there to dig and explore, but they didn’t find much.”
“What did they find?” asked Lucy-Ann, with interest.
“Let me see — they found three magnificent vases, but that was about all,” said Lucian. “They were cracked, of course — they nearly always are, it seems to me. He found a pair of daggers too — frightfully old I think those were. And he got a lot of rubbish too — you know, bits of broken crockery, pieces of jewellery not worth anything — oh yes, and he got a little carving of a goose. He gave it to me.”
“Goosey-Lucy,” put in Kiki again. She appeared to be listening hard to all this rigmarole of Lucian’s.
“Shut up, Kiki. Don’t interrupt,” said Jack.
“Go on, Lucy — I mean Lucian.”
“Oh, I say! Don’t you start calling me that, Jack,” said Lucian, looking hurt.
“Don’t be an ass. Get on with your story,” said Jack. He had no patience with Lucian when he began getting hurt, which happened quite a lot.
“Do you know any more stories about the islands?” asked Lucy-Ann, seeing that Lucian still looked upset.
“Well — there’s the story of the Andra treasure-ships,” said Lucian. “That’s supposed to be absolutely true. I’ve heard my uncle tell it many a time.”
“Go on — tell us,” said Philip, scratching Micky’s back for him, as he lay cuddled in the boy’s arms, fast asleep.
“Well, it happened hundreds of years ago,” began Lucian. “I can’t remember the exact date. There was a king called Panlostes who had a kingdom on one of these islands, a large one. I expect you know that most of them had rulers of their own. Well, Panlostes had a son.”
“What was he called?” asked Lucy-Ann.
“I don’t know,” said Lucian. “Anyway this son had an accident when he was small, and he lost one eye and hurt his foot so that he limped. He wanted to marry the daughter of a king on the mainland of Greece, a girl called Andra.”
“But she wouldn’t have him because he was one-eyed and limped, I suppose,” said Jack. “And there was someone else she liked and wanted to marry.”
“Well — if you know the story . . .” began Lucian, half annoyed.
“I don’t. But I know lots like it!” said Jack. “Go on.”
“Andra’s father said the girl should marry the one-eyed prince, if King Panlostes would send him gold and arms and treasure worth half his kingdom,” went on Lucian, warming up again. “So the King got ready a fleet of ships and stuffed them with riches of all kinds, and one morning they set sail from the island to go to the mainland.”
Lucy-Ann gazed out over the dark-blue sea, imagining the fleet of small ships, their sails filled with the wind, their holds packed with rich treasure. She heard the sharp commands, the creaking of the old wooden ships, the billowing, flapping noise of the sails. Lucian took another breath and continued.
“Well — the girl Andra sent word to the man she really wanted to marry to tell him about the ships. And he got ready some ships himself and set out to intercept the treasure-fleet.”
“Did he find them?” asked Lucy-Ann.
“Yes, he did. But when he attacked them and finally defeated the fleet — he found no treasure!”
“Gracious! Where had it gone?” asked Dinah. “Had they dumped it into the sea, or something?”
“No. The captain of the fleet had never meant to deliver the treasure safely. He had made up his mind to take it to an island he knew of, land it there, hide it safely and come back for it when he could. He meant to tell both the Kings that he had been attacked and robbed on the way to the mainland.”
“And he was attacked — but he had hidden the treasure!” said Jack. “What happened next?”
“The captain was killed and so were half the men. The rest of them made off in their ships and scattered far and wide. Search was made for the hidden treasure, but it couldn’t be found.”
“Golly — was nothing more ever heard of it?” said Philip.
“Oh yes. Some of the men thought they remembered where the island was where they had landed the treasure one night. They made up an expedition secretly and went to look for it. They quarreled and fought — and in the end only two or three men were left. One of them had made a rough map.”
“A map of the island? Was it ever found?” asked Dinah, in excitement.
“Yes. Years later. A Greek merchantman got hold of it somehow and pored over the old map till he had made some sense out of it. He made up his mind that it could refer to only five out of all the islands in the Aegean Sea — and there are heaps and heaps, you know. So he began to explore them one by one.”
“Did he find the right one?” asked Lucy-Ann, her eyes shining. “This is a lovely story I think.”
“Yes — the old story says he did find the island — and found out where the treasure was too. But before he could do anything about it, he died.”