IVictoria arrived back at the Tio, rather footsore, to be hailed enthusiastic-ally by Marcus who was sitting out on the grass terrace overlooking theriver and talking to a thin rather shabby middle-aged1 man.
“Come and have a drink with us, Miss Jones. Martini—sidecar? This isMr. Dakin. Miss Jones from England. Now then, my dear, what will youhave?”
Victoria said she would have a sidecar “and some of those lovely nuts?”
she suggested hopefully, remembering that nuts were nutritious3.
“You like nuts. Jesus!” He gave the order in rapid Arabic. Mr. Dakin saidin a sad voice that he would have a lemonade.
“Ah,” cried Marcus, “but that is ridiculous. Ah, here is Mrs. CardewTrench. You know Mr. Dakin? What will you have?”
“Gin and lime,” said Mrs. Cardew Trench4, nodding to Dakin in an off-hand manner. “You look hot,” she added to Victoria.
“I’ve been walking round seeing the sights.”
When the drinks came, Victoria ate a large plateful of pistachio nuts andalso some potato chips.
Presently, a short thickset man came up the steps and the hospitableMarcus hailed him in his turn. He was introduced to Victoria as CaptainCrosbie, and by the way his slightly protuberant5 eyes goggled6 at her, Vic-toria gathered that he was susceptible7 to feminine charm.
“Just come out?” he asked her.
“Yesterday.”
“Thought I hadn’t seen you around.”
“She is very nice and beautiful, is she not?” said Marcus joyfully8. “Ohyes, it is very nice to have Miss Victoria. I will give a party for her—a verynice party.”
“With baby chickens?” said Victoria hopefully.
“Yes, yes—and foie gras—Strasburg foie gras—and perhaps caviare—and then we have a dish with fish—very nice—a fish from the Tigris, butall with sauce and mushrooms. And then there is a turkey stuffed in theway we have it at my home—with rice and raisins9 and spice—and allcooked so! Oh it is very good—but you must eat very much of it—not just atiny spoonful. Or if you like it better you shall have a steak—a really bigsteak and tender—I see to it. We will have a long dinner that goes on forhours. It will be very nice. I do not eat myself—I only drink.”
“That will be lovely,” said Victoria in a faint voice. The description ofthese viands10 made her feel quite giddy with hunger. She wondered if Mar-cus really meant to give this party and if so, how soon it could possiblyhappen.
“Thought you’d gone to Basrah,” said Mrs. Cardew Trench to Crosbie.
“Got back yesterday,” said Crosbie.
He looked up at the balcony.
“Who’s the bandit?” he asked. “Feller in fancy dress in the big hat.”
“That, my dear, is Sir Rupert Crofton Lee,” said Marcus. “Mr. Shriven-ham brought him here from the Embassy last night. He is a very nice man,very distinguished11 traveller. He rides on camels over the Sahara, andclimbs up mountains. It is very uncomfortable and dangerous, that kind oflife. I should not like it myself.”
“Oh he’s that chap, is he?” said Crosbie. “I’ve read his book.”
“I came over on the plane with him,” said Victoria.
Both men, or so it seemed to her, looked at her with interest.
“He’s frightfully stuck up and pleased with himself,” said Victoria withdisparagement.
“Knew his aunt in Simla,” said Mrs. Cardew Trench. “The whole familyis like that. Clever as they make them, but can’t help boasting of it.”
“He’s been sitting out there doing nothing all the morning,” said Victoriawith slight disapproval12.
“It is his stomach,” explained Marcus. “Today he cannot eat anything. Itis sad.”
“I can’t think,” said Mrs. Cardew Trench, “why you’re the size you are,Marcus, when you never eat anything.”
“It is the drink,” said Marcus. He sighed deeply. “I drink far too much.
Tonight my sister and her husband come. I will drink and drink almostuntil morning.” He sighed again, then uttered his usual sudden roar. “Je-sus! Jesus! Bring the same again.”
“Not for me,” said Victoria hastily, and Mr. Dakin refused also, finishingup his lemonade, and ambling13 gently away while Crosbie went up to hisroom.
Mrs. Cardew Trench flicked14 Dakin’s glass with her fingernail. “Lemon-ade as usual?” she said. “Bad sign, that.”
Victoria asked why it was a bad sign.
“When a man only drinks when he’s alone.”
“Yes, my dear,” said Marcus. “That is so.”
“Does he really drink, then?” asked Victoria.
“That’s why he’s never got on,” said Mrs. Cardew Trench. “Just managesto keep his job and that’s all.”
“But he is a very nice man,” said the charitable Marcus.
“Pah,” said Mrs. Cardew Trench. “He’s a wet fish. Potters and dillydalliesabout — no stamina15 — no grip on life. Just one more Englishman who’scome out East and gone to seed.”
Thanking Marcus for the drink and again refusing a second, Victoriawent up to her room, removed her shoes, and lay down on her bed to dosome serious thinking. The three pounds odd to which her capital haddwindled was, she fancied, already due to Marcus for board and lodging16.
Owing to his generous disposition17, and if she could sustain life mainly onalcoholic liquor assisted by nuts, olives and chip potatoes, she might solvethe purely18 alimentary19 problem of the next few days. How long would it bebefore Marcus presented her with her bill, and how long would he allow itto run unpaid20? She had no idea. He was not really, she thought, careless inbusiness matters. She ought, of course, to find somewhere cheaper to live.
But how would she find out where to go? She ought to find herself a job—quickly. But where did one apply for jobs? What kind of a job? Whomcould she ask about looking for one? How terribly handicapping to one’sstyle it was to be dumped down practically penniless in a foreign citywhere one didn’t know the ropes. With just a little knowledge of the ter-rain, Victoria felt confident (as always) that she could hold her own. Whenwould Edward get back from Basrah? Perhaps (horror) Edward wouldhave forgotten all about her. Why on earth had she come rushing out toBaghdad in this asinine21 way? Who and what was Edward after all? Justanother young man with an engaging grin and an attractive way of sayingthings. And what—what—what was his surname? If she knew that, shemight wire him—no good, she didn’t even know where he was staying.
She didn’t know anything — that was the trouble — that was what wascramping her style.
And there was no one to whom she could go for advice. Not Marcus whowas kind but never listened. Not Mrs. Cardew Trench (who had had suspi-cions from the first). Not Mrs. Hamilton Clipp who had vanished toKirkuk. Not Dr. Rathbone.
She must get some money—or get a job—any job. Look after children,stick stamps on in an office, serve in a restaurant…Otherwise they wouldsend her to a Consul22 and she would be repatriated23 to En gland2 and neversee Edward again….
At this point, worn out with emotion, Victoria fell asleep.
II
She awoke some hours later and deciding that she might as well behanged for a sheep as a lamb, went down to the restaurant and workedher way solidly through the entire menu—a generous one. When she hadfinished, she felt slightly like a boa constrictor, but definitely heartened.
“It’s no good worrying anymore,” thought Victoria. “I’ll leave it all till to-morrow. Something may turn up, or I may think of something, or Edwardmay come back.”
Before going to bed she strolled out onto the terrace by the river. Sincein the feelings of those living in Baghdad it was arctic winter nobody elsewas out there except one of the waiters, who was leaning over a railingstaring down into the water, and he sprang away guiltily when Victoriaappeared and hurried back into the hotel by the service door.
Victoria, to whom, coming from England, it appeared to be an ordinarysummer night with a slight nip in the air, was enchanted24 by the Tigrisseen in the moonlight with the farther bank looking mysterious and East-ern with its fringes of palms.
“Well, anyway, I’ve got here,” said Victoria, cheering up a good deal,“and I’ll manage somehow. Something is bound to turn up.”
With this Micawber-like pronouncement, she went up to bed, and thewaiter slipped quietly out again and resumed his task of attaching a knot-ted rope so that it hung down to the river’s edge.
Presently another figure came out of the shadows and joined him. Mr.
Dakin said in a low voice:
“All in order?”
“Yes, sir, nothing suspicious to report.”
Having completed the task to his satisfaction, Mr. Dakin retreated intothe shadows, exchanged his waiters’ white coat for his own nondescriptblue pinstripe and ambled25 gently along the terrace until he stood outlinedagainst the water’s edge just where the steps led up from the street below.
“Getting pretty chilly26 in the evenings now,” said Crosbie, strolling outfrom the bar and down to join him. “Suppose you don’t feel it so much,coming from Tehran.”
They stood there for a moment or two smoking. Unless they raised theirvoices, nobody could overhear them. Crosbie said quietly:
“Who’s the girl?”
“Niece apparently27 of the archaeologist, Pauncefoot Jones.”
“Oh well—that should be all right. But coming on the same plane asCrofton Lee—”
“It’s certainly as well,” said Dakin, “to take nothing for granted.”
The men smoked in silence for a few moments.
Crosbie said: “You really think it’s advisable to shift the thing from theEmbassy to here?”
“I think so, yes.”
“In spite of the whole thing being taped down to the smallest detail.”
“It was taped down to the smallest detail in Basrah — and that wentwrong.”
“Oh, I know. Salah Hassan was poisoned, by the way.”
“Yes—he would be. Were there any signs of an approach to the Consu-late?”
“I suspect there may have been. Bit of a shindy there, Chap drew a re-volver.” He paused and added, “Richard Baker28 grabbed him and disarmedhim.”
“Richard Baker,” said Dakin thoughtfully.
“Know him? He’s—”
“Yes, I know him.”
There was a pause and then Dakin said:
“Improvisation29. That’s what I’m banking30 on. If we have, as you say, goteverything taped—and our plans are known, then it’s easy for the otherside to have got us taped, too. I very much doubt if Carmichael would evenso much as get near the Embassy—and even if he reached it—” He shookhis head.
“Here, only you and I and Crofton Lee are wise to what’s going on.”
“They’ll know Crofton Lee moved here from the Embassy.”
“Oh of course. That was inevitable31. But don’t you see, Crosbie, thatwhatever show they put up against our improvisation has got to be impro-vised, too. It’s got to be hastily thought of and hastily arranged. It’s got tocome, so to speak, from the outside. There’s no question here of someoneestablished in the Tio six months ago waiting. The Tio’s never been in thepicture until now. There’s never been any idea or suggestion of using theTio as the rendezvous32.”
He looked at his watch. “I’ll go up now and see Crofton Lee.”
Dakin’s raised hand had no need to tap on Sir Rupert’s door. It openedsilently to let him in.
The traveller had only one small reading lamp alight and had placed hischair beside it. As he sat down again, he gently slipped a small automaticpistol onto the table within reach of his hand.
He said: “What about it, Dakin? Do you think he’ll come?”
“I think so, yes, Sir Rupert.” Then he said, “You’ve never met him haveyou?”
The other shook his head.
“No. I’m looking forward to meeting him tonight. That young man,Dakin, must have got guts33.”
“Oh yes,” said Mr. Dakin in his flat voice. “He’s got guts.”
He sounded a little surprised at the fact needing to be stated.
“I don’t mean only courage,” said the other. “Lots of courage in the war—magnificent. I mean—”
“Imagination?” suggested Dakin.
“Yes. To have the guts to believe something that isn’t in the least degreeprobable. To risk your life finding out that a ridiculous story isn’t ridicu-lous at all. That takes something that the modern young man usuallyhasn’t got. I hope he’ll come.”
“I think he’ll come,” said Mr. Dakin.
Sir Rupert glanced at him sharply.
“You’ve got it all sewn up?”
“Crosbie’s on the balcony, and I shall be watching the stairs. When Car-michael reaches you, tap on the wall and I’ll come in.”
Crofton Lee nodded.
Dakin went softly out of the room. He went to the left and onto the bal-cony and walked to the extreme corner. Here, too, a knotted rope droppedover the edge and came to earth in the shade of a eucalyptus34 tree andsome judas bushes.
Mr. Dakin went back past Crofton Lee’s door and into his own room bey-ond. His room had a second door in it leading onto the passage behind therooms and it opened within a few feet of the head of the stairs. With thisdoor unobtrusively ajar, Mr. Dakin settled down to his vigil.
It was about four hours later that a gufa, that primitive35 craft of theTigris, dropped gently downstream and came to shore on the mudflat be-neath the Tio Hotel. A few moments later a slim figure swarmed36 up therope and crouched37 amongst the judas trees.
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1
middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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gland
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| n.腺体，(机)密封压盖，填料盖 | |
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nutritious
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| adj.有营养的，营养价值高的 | |
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trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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protuberant
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| adj.突出的，隆起的 | |
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goggled
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| adj.戴护目镜的v.睁大眼睛瞪视， （惊讶的）转动眼珠( goggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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susceptible
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| adj.过敏的，敏感的；易动感情的，易受感动的 | |
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joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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raisins
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| n.葡萄干( raisin的名词复数 ) | |
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10
viands
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| n.食品，食物 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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12
disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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ambling
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| v.（马）缓行( amble的现在分词 )；从容地走，漫步 | |
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14
flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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15
stamina
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| n.体力；精力；耐力 | |
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16
lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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18
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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alimentary
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| adj.饮食的，营养的 | |
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unpaid
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| adj.未付款的，无报酬的 | |
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asinine
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| adj.愚蠢的 | |
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consul
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| n.领事；执政官 | |
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repatriated
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| v.把（某人）遣送回国，遣返( repatriate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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ambled
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| v.（马）缓行( amble的过去式和过去分词 )；从容地走，漫步 | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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improvisation
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| n.即席演奏(或演唱)；即兴创作 | |
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banking
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| n.银行业，银行学，金融业 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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32
rendezvous
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| n.约会，约会地点，汇合点；vi.汇合，集合；vt.使汇合，使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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33
guts
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| v.狼吞虎咽，贪婪地吃，飞碟游戏（比赛双方每组5人，相距15码，互相掷接飞碟）；毁坏（建筑物等）的内部( gut的第三人称单数 )；取出…的内脏n.勇气( gut的名词复数 )；内脏；消化道的下段；肠 | |
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eucalyptus
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| n.桉树，桉属植物 | |
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35
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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36
swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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