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the lost road-第57章

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leave from a man…of…war; transport; or hospital ship; was raked
by our cameras。  There were four windowsone for each of us
and his work table。  It was not easy to work。  What was the use?
The pictures and stories outside the windows fascinated us; but
when we sketched them or wrote about them; they only proved
us inadequate。  All day long the pinnaces; cutters; gigs; steam
launches shoved and bumped against the stone steps; marines
came ashore for the mail; stewards for fruit and fish; Red Cross
nurses to shop; tiny midshipmen to visit the movies; and the
sailors and officers of the Russian; French; British; Italian;
and Greek war…ships to stretch their legs in the park of the Tour
Blanche; or to cramp them under a cafe table。  Sometimes the
ambulances blocked the quay and the wounded and frost…bitten
were lifted into the motor…boats; and sometimes a squad of marines
lined the landing stage; and as a coffin under a French or English
flag was borne up the stone steps stood at salute。  So crowded
was the harbor that the oars of the boatmen interlocked。

Close to the stone quay; stretched along the three…mile circle;
were the fishing smacks; beyond them; so near that the anchor
chains fouled; were the passenger ships with gigantic Greek flags
painted on their sides; and beyond them transports from Marseilles;
Malta; and Suvla Bay; black colliers; white hospital ships; burning
green electric lights; red…bellied tramps and freighters; and; hemming
them in; the grim; mouse…colored destroyers; submarines; cruisers;
dreadnaughts。  At times; like a wall; the cold fog rose between us
and the harbor; and again the curtain would suddenly be ripped
asunder; and the sun would flash on the brass work of the fleet;
on the white wings of the aeroplanes; on the snow…draped
shoulders of Mount Olympus。  We often speculated as to how
in the early days the gods and goddesses; dressed as they were;
or as they were not; survived the snows of Mount Olympus。  Or
was it only their resort for the summer?

It got about that we had a vast room to ourselves; where one
might obtain a drink; or a sofa for the night; or even money to
cable for money。  So; we had many strange visitors; some half
starved; half frozen; with terrible tales of the Albanian trail;
of the Austrian prisoners fallen by the wayside; of the mountain
passes heaped with dead; of the doctors and nurses wading
waist…high in snow…drifts and for food killing the ponies。  Some
of our visitors wanted to get their names in the American papers
so that the folks at home would know they were still alive;
others wanted us to keep their names out of the papers; hoping
the police would think them dead; another; convinced it was of
pressing news value; desired us to advertise the fact that he had
invented a poisonous gas for use in the trenches。  With difficulty
we prevented him from casting it adrift in our room。  Or; he had
for sale a second…hand motor…cycle; or he would accept a position
as barkeeper; or for five francs would sell a state secret that; once
made public; in a month would end the war。  It seemed cheap at
the price。

Each of us had his 〃scouts〃 to bring him the bazaar rumor; the
Turkish bath rumor; the cafe rumor。  Some of our scouts journeyed
as far afield as Monastir and Doiran; returning to drip snow on
the floor; and to tell us tales; one…half of which we refused to
believe; and the other half the censor refused to pass。  With each
other's visitors it was etiquette not to interfere。  It would have
been like tapping a private wire。  When we found John sketching
a giant stranger in a cap and coat of wolf skin we did not seek
to know if he were an Albanian brigand; or a Servian prince
incognito; and when a dark Levantine sat close to the Kid;
whispering; and the Kid banged on his typewriter; we did not
listen。

So; when I came in one afternoon and found a strange American
youth writing at John's table; and no one introduced us; I took
it for granted he had sold the Artist an 〃exclusive〃 story; and
asked no questions。  But I could not help hearing what they said。
Even though I tried to drown their voices by beating on the Kid's
typewriter。  I was taking my third lesson; and I had printed; 〃I
Amm 5w writjng This; 5wjth my own lilly w?ite handS;〃 when I
heard the Kid saying:

〃You can beat the game this way。  Let John buy you a ticket to the
Piraeus。  If you go from one Greek port to another you don't need
a vise。  But; if you book from here to Italy; you must get a permit
from the Italian consul; and our consul; and the police。  The plot
is to get out of the war zone; isn't it? Well; then; my dope is to get
out quick; and map the rest of your trip when you're safe in Athens。〃

It was no business of mine; but I had to look up。  The stranger
was now pacing the floor。  I noticed that while his face was
almost black with tan; his upper lip was quite white。  I noticed
also that he had his hands in the pockets of one of John's blue
serge suits; and that the pink silk shirt he wore was one that
once had belonged to the Kid。  Except for the pink shirt; in the
appearance of the young man there was nothing unusual。  He was
of a familiar type。  He looked like a young business man from our
Middle West; matter…of…fact and unimaginative; but capable and
self…reliant。  If he had had a fountain pen in his upper waistcoat
pocket; I would have guessed he was an insurance agent; or the
publicity man for a new automobile。  John picked up his hat;
and said; 〃That's good advice。  Give me your steamer ticket; Fred;
and I'll have them change it。〃  He went out; but he did not ask
Fred to go with him。

Uncle Jim rose; and murmured something about the Cafe Roma;
and tea。  But neither did he invite Fred to go with him。  Instead;
he told him to make himself at home; and if he wanted anything
the waiter would bring it from the cafe downstairs。  Then the Kid;
as though he also was uncomfortable at being left alone with us;
hurried to the door。  〃Going to get you a suit…case;〃 he explained。
〃Back in five minutes。〃

The stranger made no answer。  Probably he did not hear him。  Not a
hundred feet from our windows three Greek steamers were huddled
together; and the eyes of the American were fixed on them。  The
one for which John had gone to buy him a new ticket lay nearest。
She was to sail in two hours。  Impatiently; in short quick steps;
the stranger paced the length of the room; but when he turned and
so could see the harbor; he walked slowly; devouring it with his
eyes。  For some time; in silence; he repeated this manoeuvre; and
then the complaints of the typewriter disturbed him。  He halted
and observed my struggles。  Under his scornful eye; in my
embarrassment I frequently hit the right letter。  〃You a
newspaper man; too?〃 he asked。  I boasted I was; but
begged not to be judged by my typewriting。

〃I got some great stories to write when I get back to God's country;〃
he announced。  〃I was a reporter for two years in Kansas City before
the war; and now I'm going back to lecture and write。  I got enough
material to keep me at work for five years。  All kinds of stuff
specials; fiction; stories; personal e
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