Svindine N. The treasure of the white army

lying on a clean bed. Just as I was getting ready to call for help and ask
for something to drink, a young man came into the room with two pitchers,
one of cold water and the other of white wine. He spoke to me in Greek,
which I could not understand. Nor could he comprehend any of the languages I
tried out on him. Then he began to count with his fingers. When he saw that
I still did not understand, he lowered the lamp and raised it again, holding
up seven fingers. I understood that he was telling me that I would have to
wait until seven o'clock. He was not wearing a watch but when I pointed to
his wrist, he held up his fingers to indicate that it was 11 A.M. I pointed
to the wound on my head and groaned. He left and came back after a few
minutes with an old, toothless crone dressed all in black. When she saw my
wound, she began to scold the young man. Then they both left. I thought I
wouldn't see them again.
After a half hour they returned. She was carrying a bowl of hot water
and a big wad of absorbent cotton. He had some cold meat, goat cheese, and
bread and fruit. The woman gestured for me to turn over. Then she washed my
wound with water and bathed it with an evil-smelling liquid which, to my
surprise, eased the pain. Then she set a plate full of food in front of me.
They both wished me kalispera, "good night," and left.
My appetite had come back and I ate heartily. I was still trying to
understand what in the world was going on. At last, even in my state, I
dismissed the idea that it had anything to do with the treasure. The only
person in Greece who knew anything about it was my Russian friend, whom I
trusted absolutely. I decided to put it out of my mind and try to get some
sleep.
When I woke up the next morning, two men were standing over me, staring
at me with curiosity but with no apparent hostility. "Good morning," one of
them said in fairlv good French. "How did you sleep?"
"How could I sleep well when here I am kidnapped and tied without
knowing why? What's going on?"
The one who spoke French translated for his companion, who was clearly
his superior. They were both well dressed in European style. The more
important man wore an expensive suit and a gold watch. He wanted to know who
I was, what I had been doing on the boat, and how long and how well I knew
the captain. I asked if they were from the police and they answered, "We are
as far from the police as the moon is from the earth."
They were gangsters. The captain and I had agreed on what my story
should be if anyone wanted to know what I was doing on board his boat. So I
told them that I was a former officer of the Russian White Army and that
therefore I couldn't safely enter any communist countries. But I had had my
heart set on going to Bulgaria to see my only sister, who had married a
Bulgarian. This seemed to satisfy them. I hoped the captain had stuck to our
story.
They wanted to know if I knew why the captain went back and forth to
Bulgaria. I said I didn't and that if they knew the captain, they also knew
that he was not the kind of man one questioned too closely. Without another
word they turned to leave, and the interpreter said, "Monsieur is satisfied
with your answers. You will learn his decision this evening."
I looked out through the barred window. The building was about two
hundred yards from the sea and in the distance I could see a tiny island. I
was almost certainly on one of those tiny islands in the Sporades and
therefore far from any of the main routes. The time passed slowly as I
waited to learn what "Monsieur" had decided. It was quite late when the
interpreter finally returned. He handed me an envelope.
"Monsieur regrets," he said, "that you have been so badly treated. Here
is a thousand dollars. He wants you to accept it to make up for the unjust
treatment you have received. Tomorrow, a doctor will come to take care of
you. In the meanwhile, the old woman who took care of you last night will
look after you. In a couple of days you can leave here with the captain,
provided he agrees to make retribution for the harm he has done us. If he
refuses, we will take you to any port that you choose. There is only one
condition: you must swear to tell no one what has happened. It is to your
advantage to accept this condition, because the police are after both the
captain and us and I promise you they will give you nothing but trouble if
they find out about all this."
I swore I would speak to no one. Immediately after-ward, the old woman
and the young man came with fresh bandages and food. They also had a large
jug of cool white wine. The old lady was so gentle with me that after she
had cleaned my wound, I kissed her on both cheeks. She placed her hand
softly on my head and said something that I would have given anything to
understand. When they left, I ate, then drank the whole jug of wine and
threw myself on the bed quite drunk. The next morning the young man woke me
and escorted me to another building. It had the same plain exterior but was
very luxurious inside. He took me to a bathroom, where I was overjoyed to
find my baggage, my papers and my books. I shaved, bathed, and changed my
clothes.
When I came out, he was waiting for me. "In a few days," he said, "you
will be far from here, and I believe your friend the captain will be the one
to take you. He is being quite reasonable and there is peace between us
now." I was delighted. He led me into a drawing room, beautifully furnished
in the Middle Eastern style, and offered me some strong Turkish coffee. Just
then a small man, also dressed in the European style, appeared in the
doorway and announced in perfect German that he was a doctor. He examined my
wound and pronounced it not serious. The swelling was already going down. He
reban-daged it, and advised me to keep it covered for three days and after
that to let nature take its course.
These gangsters were treating me so graciously that I was beginning to
feel at home. I was almost ready to forgive them for my injury and the
brutal way they had treated me. It must be a matter of two rival gangs
involved in the same illicit traffic. All I hoped was that my part in their
adventures would soon be over.
I saw the captain again about noon. The door opened suddenly and there
he was -- covered with bruises and almost his entire head in bandages. He
threw his arms around me and kissed me on both cheeks. "My friend," he said,
"I am so glad to see you. I hope you are feeling better. Forgive me for this
frightful experience. I had no idea. One day they will pay for it. Someone --
it had to be someone in my crew -- betrayed me. I'll find out who it was and
then he had better watch out."
The young man came to lead us to another room, where we were served an
excellent lunch. The captain told me that he had lost two men. The cook had
been killed and a sailor had been fatally wounded. The attackers had also
had two killed, both by the captain himself. The boat had suffered some
damage but would be able to embark in a couple of days. I thought it best
not to ask what had been the cause of the trouble. Once before, I had asked
him what I had imagined was a harmless question and he had changed from a
friendly companion into a cold, terrifying stranger.
That evening, the chief, who was leaving the next day, gave a banquet
to celebrate his reconciliation with the captain. We ate bounteously and
drank gallons of wine until four o'clock in the morning. Everybody got
drunk, including me. The men drew their pistols and started firing into the
ceiling. At the end the chief brought two pretty dancers who had entertained
during the evening to the captain and me. Unfortunately, I was so drunk that
I fell asleep as soon as I hit the bed.
That afternoon the captain and I walked around the island. I tried to
find out where we might be by referring to Lemnos. He pretended not to
understand. Honor among thieves. He would not betray his own enemies.
The next day, the captain was as anxious as I to leave. Since there was
no wind, he started up the engine, and soon we were far from the island. The
two missing crew members had somehow been replaced. The captain was in a bad
mood. and I understood he was brooding about the traitor who had given away
his course and the enormous sum he must have had to pay to ransom himself,
his crew and his boat.
He got his revenge on the traitor that night. After dinner we were
playing checkers when he announced suddenly that he was going to retire. I
was exhausted and only too willing. I fell asleep immediately, and was
awakened by such terrible and bloodcurdling screams that I covered my ears.
I was sure the captain was extracting a confession from the suspect.
The next morning he asked me if I had slept well. answered, "Never
better." But about noon I noticed that the old helmsman was missing. The
captain himself was at the rudder. Three days later he let me off at the
same port| from which I had embarked, and before I left he gave me back the
money I had paid him. "You were almost killed and it was all my fault," he
said. "Take this money and don't give me any argument. Just keep all this to
yourself."
When I saw my old Russian friend again, I had to tell him all about my
trip. He was terribly upset that he had put me in such danger. "Not at all,"
I told him. "I had to see if it was still there."
I spent a week with him and his wife, and though they wanted me to stay
longer I decided I had to get away from Greece. I wanted to go home. All
that was left for me now was to dream about the treasure of the White Army
buried in an obscure Bulgarian forest.
Only I know where.