Page:The vintage; a romance of the Greek war of independence (IA vintageromanceof00bensrich).pdf/174

 fool stuffed the last one I ate with garlic! Sucking-pig stuffed with garlic! A man without a palate, little Mitsos!"

Yanni burst out laughing at this, and Petrobey turned to him with good humor shining in his great rosy face, which he tried most unsuccessfully to school into severity.

"Yanni, too," he went on, "that lumpy son of mine, does not know quail from woodcock, and lights his pipe before he has finished his wine. Come, boys, dinner first; we will talk afterwards. Bring the mastic, son of a locust," he bawled into the kitchen.

During dinner Petrobey hardly spoke, because speech spoils food. He ate sparingly and slowly, dwelling on each mouthful as on a mathematical problem. His face grew anxious as the time for sucking-pig approached, and his deep-gray eyes bore an expression of profound thought as he laid down his knife and fork, after putting the first piece of crackling into his mouth. Then his face cleared again, and he drank a little water briskly, for, except rarely, he did not touch wine.

"Hardly crisp enough," le said, curling his long gray mustache up from his lips. "Hardly crisp enough, but creditable. What say you, Mitsos?"

The latter exhibited a phenomenal appetite after his journey from Marathonisi, and Yanni looked on in admiration, which eventually expressed itself Homerically:

"You are a good man," he said, "because you eat well."

After dinner they sat out in the sun under the shelter of the southern veranda, and here Mitsos learned what he had to do.

"Your uncle Nicholas," said Petrobey, "has told me that I can trust you completely; and I have many things to tell you, any of which, if you chose to give