The Moonspinners by Mary Stewart Page A

is? Mark wishes me to go, but he is too ill, and when he has the fever, he tries to leave the hut, to look himself for his brother.’
    â€˜Oh, yes, I see that all right. Thank you for telling me all this. And now, surely, you’ll let me help?’
    â€˜What can you do? You cannot go down now to the village, and buy food or blankets, and then come back here. The whole village would know of it within the hour, and there would be a straight path back there, to Mark. And you cannot go to the boat; it will be dark soon, and I have told you, you could not find the way.’
    â€˜No, but you could.’
    He stared.
    I said: ‘Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? You go, and I’ll stay with him.’
    You would have thought I had offered to jump straight off the side of the White Mountains. ‘ You? ’
    â€˜What else is there to do? Someone has to stay with him. Someone has to get supplies. I can’t get supplies, therefore I stay with him. It’s as simple as that.’
    â€˜But – I shall be gone a long time, perhaps many hours.’
    I smiled. ‘That’s where the luck comes in. The hotel doesn’t expect me until tomorrow. Nobody in Agios Georgios knows I’ve arrived. Whatever time I get there, nobody’s going to ask questions.’
    He scooped up a handful of the dry juniper needles, and let them run softly through his fingers. He watched them, not looking at me as he spoke. ‘If they come back, these murderers, to look for Mark, you will be alone here.’
    I swallowed, and said with what I hoped sounded like resolute calm: ‘Well, you’ll wait till it gets dusk, won’t you, before you go? If they haven’t been back and found the hut before dark, they’re not likely to find it afterwards.’
    â€˜That is true.’
    â€˜You know,’ I said, ‘this isn’t silly heroics, or anything. I don’t want to stay here, believe me. But I simply don’t see what else there is to do.’
    â€˜You could do what Mark told you, and go down to your hotel and forget us. You will have a comfortable bed, and a safe one.’
    â€˜And how well do you think I should sleep?’
    He lifted his shoulders, with a little twist of the lips. Then he gave a quick glance at the western sky. ‘Very well. At first dark, I shall go.’ A look at me. ‘We shall not tell Mark, until I have gone.’
    â€˜Better not. He’d only worry about me, wouldn’t he?’
    He smiled. ‘He does not like to be helpless, that one. He is the kind that tries to carry the world.’
    â€˜He must be half out of his mind about Colin. If he could only sleep, then you might even be able to go, and get back again, without his knowing.’
    â€˜That would be best of all.’ He got to his feet. ‘You will stay up here, then, until I give you a signal? I shall see to him before I leave him. There will be nothing for you to do except see that he does not wake with fever, and try to crawl out of the hut, to look for his brother.’
    â€˜I can manage that,’ I said.
    He stood looking down at me with that unreadable, almost surly expression. ‘I think,’ he said slowly, ‘that you would manage anything.’ Then suddenly, he smiled, a genuine smile of friendliness and amusement. ‘Even Mark,’ he added.

4
    Mark how she wreaths each horn with mist, you late and labouring moon.
    WILDE : Panthea
    Lambis left at dusk. Soon after the sun had vanished below the sea, darkness fell. I had been watching from the ledge, and, in the two long hours before sunset, I had seen no sign of movement on the mountainside, except for Lambis’ short trips from the hut to get water from the pool.
    Now, as the edges of sea and landscape became dim, I saw him again, small below me, appearing at the door of the hut. This time he came out a short way, then stopped, looked up in my direction, and lifted a