25

THE EVE of that first of May I shall never forget as long as I live. The cable railway was ready; the pylons, cable and pulleys gleamed in the morning sun. Huge pine trunks lay heaped at the top of the mountain, and workmen stood there waiting for the signal to attach them to the cable and send them down to the sea.

A large Greek flag was flapping at the top of the pole up at the point of departure on the mountainside and a similar one down below by the sea. In front of the but Zorba had set up a small barrel of wine. Next to it was a workman roasting a good fat sheep on a spit. After the benediction ceremony and the inauguration, the guests were to have wine and wish us success.

Zorba had taken the parrot's cage, too, and placed it on a high rock near the first pylon.

"It's as if I could see his mistress," he murmured, looking fondly at the bird. He took a handful of peanuts from his pocket and gave them to the parrot.

Zorba was wearing his best clothes: unbuttoned white shirt, green jacket, grey trousers and good elastic-sided shoes. Moreover, he had waxed his moustache, which was beginning to lose its dye.

Like a great noble doing the honors to his peers, he hastened to welcome the village worthies as they arrived, and explained to them what a cable railway was, and what a benefit it would be to the countryside, and that the Holy Virgin-in her infinite grace-had helped him with her wisdom in the perfect execution of this project.

"It is a great piece of engineering," he said. "You've got to find the exact slope, and that takes some working out! I racked my brains for months, but to no purpose. It's obvious that for great works like this the mind of man is inadequate; we need God's aid… Well, the Holy Virgin saw me hard at it, and she had pity on me: 'Poor Zorba,' she said, 'he's not a bad fellow, he's doing all that for the good of the village, I think I'll go and give him a hand.' And then, O miracle of God!…"

Zorba stopped to cross himself three times in succession.

"O miracle! One night in my sleep a woman in black came to me-it was the Holy Virgin. In her hand she held a small model line, no bigger than that. 'Zorba,' she said, 'I've brought you your plans; they come from heaven. Here is the slope you need, and here is my blessing!' And she disappeared! I woke up with a start, ran to the place where I was testing at the time and what did I see? The wire was set at the right angle, all by itself. And it smelled of benjamin, too, which proved that the hand of the Holy Virgin had touched it!"

Kondomanolio was opening his mouth to ask a question when five monks mounted on mules appeared along the stony mountain pathway. A sixth, carrying a large wooden cross on his shoulders, ran shouting in front of them. We strained to know what he was shouting but we could not make it out.

We could hear chanting. The monks were waving their arms in the air, crossing themselves, and the hooves of their mules struck sparks from the stones.

The monk who was on foot came up to us, his face streaming with sweat. He raised the cross on high.

"Christians! A miracle!" he cried. "Christians! A miracle! The fathers are bringing the Most Holy Virgin herself! On your knees and worship her!"

The villagers, notables and workmen ran up excitedly, surrounded the monk and crossed themselves. I stood apart. Zorba glanced at me, his eyes twinkling.

"You go closer, too, boss," he said. "Go and hear about the Most Holy Virgin's miracle!"

The monk, breathless and in haste, began his story.

"Down on your knees, Christians, and listen to the divine miracle! Listen, Christians! The devil had seized upon the soul of the accursed Zaharia and two days ago led him to sprinkle the holy monastery with paraffin. We noticed the fire at midnight. We got out of bed in all haste; the priory, the galleries and the cells were all in flames. We rang the monastery bell and cried: 'Help! Help! Holy Virgin of Revenge!' And we rushed to the fire with pitchers and buckets of water! By early morning the flames were out, praise be to her Holy Grace!

"We went to the chapel and sank to our knees before her miraculous icon, crying: 'Holy Virgin of Revenge! Take up your lance and strike the culprit!' Then we gathered together in the courtyard and noticed that Zaharia, our Judas, was absent. 'He is the one who set us on fire! He must be the one!' we cried and rushed after him. We searched the whole day long but found nothing; then the whole night, but still nothing. But today at dawn, we went once more to the chapel and what did we see, brothers? A terrible miracle! Zaharia was lying dead at the foot of the sacred icon and the virgin's lance had a large spot of blood on its point!"

"Kyrie eleison! Kyrie eleison!" murmured the villagers in terror.

"That's not all," added the monk, swallowing his spittle. "When we bent down to lift up the accursed Zaharia we stood aghast: for the Virgin had shaved off his hair, moustache and beard-like a Catholic priest!"

Controlling my laughter with the greatest difficulty, I turned to Zorba.

"Scoundrel!" I said in a low voice.

But he was watching the monk, his eyes wide open in surprise, and was crossing himself with deep emotion all the time, to show his utter amazement.

"You are great, O Lord! You are great, O Lord! And your works are wonderful!" he murmured.

At this moment the other monks arrived and dismounted. The hospitaller held the icon in his arms; he climbed up a rock, and all rushed and scrambled to prostrate themselves before the miraculous Virgin. Last came the fat Demetrios, carrying a plate, making the collection and sprinkling the peasants' hard heads with rose water. Three monks stood round him chanting hymns, with their hands folded together over their stomachs, their faces covered with great beads of sweat.

"We are going to take her in procession round the villages of Crete," said the fat Demetrios, "so that the believers can kneel to Her Holiness and bring their offerings. We need money, lots of money, to restore the holy monastery…"

"The fat hogs!" grumbled Zorba. "They're even going to make something out of this!"

He went up to the abbot.

"Holy father, everything is ready for the ceremony. May the Holy Virgin bless our work!"

The sun was already high, it was very hot, and there was not a breath of wind. The monks placed themselves round the pylon bearing the flag. They wiped their foreheads with their broad sleeves and began chanting the prayer for "the foundations of buildings."

"Lord, O Lord, found this contrivance on solid rock that neither wind nor water may shake it…" They dipped the aspergillum in the copper bowl and sprinkled objects and people-the pylon, the cable, the pulleys, Zorba and me, and, finally, the peasants, workmen and the sea itself.

Then, with great care, as if they were handling a sick woman, they lifted the icon, set it close to the parrot, and surrounded it. On the other side were the elders, in the center Zorba. I myself had withdrawn slightly towards the sea and was waiting.

The line was to be given a trial with three trees: a holy trinity. Nevertheless a fourth was added as a sign of recognition towards the Holy Virgin of Revenge.

Monks, villagers, and workmen crossed themselves.

"In the name of the Holy Trinity and the Holy Virgin!" they murmured.

In a single bound Zorba was at the first pylon, pulled the cord and down came the flag. It was the signal for which the men at the top of the mountain had been waiting. All the spectators stepped back and looked towards the summit.

"In the name of the Father!" cried the abbot.

Impossible to describe what happened then. The catastrophe burst upon us like a thunderbolt. We had scarcely time to run away. The entire structure swayed. The pine tree, which the workmen had attached to the cable, assumed a demoniac impetus. Sparks flew, large splinters of wood shot through the air, and when the tree arrived at the bottom a few seconds later it was no more than a charred log.