He smiled and took a sip of his coffee. “It tastes good anyway. Aren’t you having any?”
She shook her head. “My aunt will have supper waiting for me when I return.”
She wore a faded print dress which had obviously been washed and mended many times and an ancient Norfolk jacket, two sizes too big for her and belted round her slender waist.
Lomax ran a finger lightly down one of the lapels. “Harris tweed. Nothing very Greek about that garment. Where did you pick it up?”
She flushed and he was at once sorry knowing that in some way his words had touched her pride. “New clothes are one thing it is impossible to obtain here,” she said. “I was given this coat by a friend, Mr. Van Horn.”
“You know Oliver Van Horn?” Lomax said in surprise.
“Everyone on Kyros knows Mr. Van Horn,” she said. “He’s a fine man.”
“Is he still living hi his villa out on the point?” Alexias demanded.
She nodded. “The Germans don’t bother him. Since old Doctor Douplos died, Mr. Van Horn has taken his place. He’s the only doctor available to the islanders.”
“I’d forgotten he studied medicine as a young man,” Lomax said. “Something else he has hi common with. Maugham. I’d give a lot to meet him.”
“Who knows, perhaps you will.” Alexias cut himself a large slice of cheese. “Katina, I’ve decided to go into town with you. Will it be safe?”
She nodded. “There should be plenty of people in the streets on a warm night like this.”
Alexias turned to Lomax. “I’ll be back first thing in the morning. I should have got things moving by then. You and Boyd can sleep here in the loft.”
“Ill go and harness the mare,” Katina interrupted. “If I’m not back soon Aunt Sarah will begin to worry.”
The door closed behind her and Lomax pulled on his tunic and reached for the night glasses. “She’s got a point there. I’ll give her a hand and then have a look round.”
Alexias poured himself another coffee and moved to the fire, steam rising from his sheepskin coat. “I’ll be ready to leave in five minutes. Just give me time to dry ùout a little.”
Boyd was still making inroads into the bread and cheese as Lomax went through the kitchen and moved out on to the porch. He crossed the yard to the barn and paused in the entrance.
An old oil lamp swung from a beam that seemed to be the mainstay of the building and in its light Katina Pavlo was harnessing the mare. A board creaked under his foot as he went forward and she turned at once, reaching for the shotgun that leaned against the end of the stall.
She relaxed visibly. “Oh, it’s you, Captain Lomax.”
“So your uncle told you my name,” he said.
She nodded. “You are younger than I had imagined. Much younger.”
He frowned slightly. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Even on Kyros we have heard of the Nightcomer,” she explained. “And of the things you have done in Crete. Last month all they could talk about in the cafe’s was of how you had kidnapped the German general on Rhodes and smuggled him out of Egypt. Even the Germans find difficulty in keeping such things secret.”
“Tales grow in the telling,” he said. “Remember that.”
She slipped the bridle over the mare’s head and fastened the strap quickly. “Your Greek is very good-too good for an islander.”
He grinned. “I spent five years in Athens as a boy. My father was an official at the British Embassy there.”
“I see.”
She started to lead the mare from her stall and Lomax moved forward quickly. “Can I help?”
She nodded. “The cart’s over there hi the corner. If you could bring it here.”
It was a light, two-wheeled affair and he tilted it forward as she backed the mare between the long curving shafts. He strapped the harness expertly into place on one side and she did the same at the other.
When they had finished, she smiled across at him. “You’ve done that before.”
He nodded. “My grandfather was a farmer. That’s all I wanted to be when I was a boy.”