The Gabriel Hounds (17 page)

We waited in silence. The Arab had gone, the other two did not come out from the grove. There must indeed be another way into the palace. The distance was clear, the colours bright, but it still looked a very long way away. I thought with weariness, and then with irritation, of the long trek back down the gorge of the Nahr el-Sal’q.

I said suddenly: ‘I quite honestly don’t want to go back there. Can’t we scrub it?’

‘Decided you’d rather try the pilgrims’ way into the High Lebanon?’

‘No, but couldn’t you somehow convey me across the Eiger after all? It looked terribly easy.’

‘Did it?’ He grinned. No further comment.

‘You couldn’t?’

‘No, love, I could not. What’s more I wouldn’t, even if I could. It’s obviously the will of Allah that you should go back to Dar Ibrahim, and for once the will of Allah is perfectly timed. By which I mean that it
coincides with mine. You’re going back – and I’m coming with you.’

‘You are? You mean you’re going to show John Lethman that letter now, and get him to let you in?’

‘No. John Lethman has nothing to do with it. You’re going to let me in yourself.’

I sat up abruptly. ‘If you mean what I think you mean—’

‘Probably. There’s a back door, a postern.’

‘So?’ I asked sharply.

‘I’ve been thinking …’ He spoke slowly, his eyes still on the distant sprawl of the palace. ‘The place where we met this morning, the ford … that was out of sight of the palace?’

‘Yes. But Charles—’

‘And you said that when you first saw me coming down the slope below the village, you thought I was your driver?’

‘Yes, but Charles—’

‘Now, they’ve seen your driver, but they’ve never seen me, and anyway they wouldn’t be expecting me any more than you were. If they were looking out at all this morning, all they would see was you going down to the stream to meet your driver, who was walking down from the village. Fair enough?’

‘Yes, but Charles, you can’t! Are you really thinking—?’

‘Of course I am. Now shut up and listen. I want to get into this place for myself and see exactly what’s going on, and I want to get in now, not wait on Lethman’s problematic good will. All right, it looks
as if this flooding of the river has provided a heaven-sent chance; the will of Allah, plain and clear. Your part of it’s perfectly simple and straightforward. You go back there now to the palace, ring for old Jassim again, and tell him what’s more or less the truth. Tell him you couldn’t cross the stream, and neither could your driver, but that you both went up the Nahr el-Sal’q as far as you could, to see if there was a place to cross. You got right up to the source, and there wasn’t any place you could cross, even with the driver’s help.’ He grinned. ‘Couldn’t be truer so far. So you told your driver to go back to Beirut, and call for you again tomorrow when the stream had had a chance to go down. You also gave your driver a message for your cousin Charles, to say you were staying here another night, and that you’d join him tomorrow at the Phoenicia.’

‘But, Charles—’

‘They can hardly refuse to take you in. In fact, it sounded to me as if your Mr. Lethman was quite glad of your company. Who could blame him? If you had to live in a place like that you’d welcome the Abominable Snowman.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome. So, you get back into the palace. You told me they said you could explore anywhere you liked except the Prince’s rooms. Well, do just that. You’ll have hours of day-light this time. See if you can find this back door; you said it went from your end of the palace anyway.’

‘It must do. I told you about the man walking
through the Seraglio Garden last night. Whoever it was, I’ll swear he didn’t come past my room to the main door, so he must have got in and out another way. But – you’re serious? You’re really planning to break in?’

‘Why not? If you can find the door, see it’s unlocked after dark tonight, and Mohammed will come to the mountain.’

‘And if I can’t find it?’

‘Then we’ll have to think of some other way. No windows at all looking back on the plateau – no, I can see that from here; there aren’t. Well, but you said there was an arcade of sorts on the north side facing the village, and a path underneath?’

‘There is, but the windows are all barred. Don’t forget it was a harem.’

‘You said the place was falling to bits; aren’t any of the grilles broken? Or could they be broken?’

‘Yes, I think so. But they’re right up high in the wall, and—’

‘Well, I can climb,’ said Charles. ‘If the wall’s in bad repair there’ll be plenty of footholds. I’ve always wanted to climb into a harem.’

‘I’ll bet. But why not try the direct approach first? With me, I mean, at the main gate?’

‘Because if it doesn’t work you mightn’t get in either, and then there’d be no chance even of a break-in. And I’d sooner by-pass Lethman in any case.’

I started to ask why, saw my cousin’s face, and decided to save time and energy. I know Charles. I
asked instead: ‘Well, once you’re in, what then? What if you’re caught?’

‘All that’ll happen is a bit of a row, or at worst a turn-up with John Lethman, and I’ll risk that. It won’t worry me, and at least I’ll get to see Aunt H, if only to have her tear a strip off me.’

I regarded him. ‘This I just don’t get. I mean, curiosity is one thing, but this sudden outburst of devotion … No, Charles, it simply isn’t on. It’s all very fine and large, but you just can’t do this sort of thing.’

‘Can’t I? Look at it this way. You’ve got to go back tonight. You don’t want to. Wouldn’t you rather I was there too?’

‘Under the circumstances,’ I said, ‘I’d be glad of the Abominable Snowman.’

‘Thank you. Well then, sweet Christabel—’

Of course I protested further, and of course he won in the end, as he always had. Besides, his last argument was the most cogent of the lot. However ‘romantic’ my last night at Dar Ibrahim had been, I had no desire to repeat it alone.

‘Then that’s settled.’ He got decisively to his feet. ‘I’ll climb back across now, and in due course, if they’re interested, they’ll see me going back towards the village. Now, you said you’d finished supper by about ten, and Aunt H didn’t send for you until about twelve. Just in case she decides to receive you again, we’d better say that I’ll be at the back of the place any time from ten-thirty on. If you can’t get the postern unlocked, I’ll give a couple of barks like a hill fox under
the wall, and if it’s all clear for me to climb up, hang a towel out, or something light-coloured that I can see. Soap-opera stuff, I know, but simple ideas usually work out best. In fact, if it’s climbable, I’d prefer the window, if the hounds get the run of the place at night.’

‘Lord, yes, I’d forgotten that … I don’t know if I could do anything about them. If he does take me up to see Aunt H again, there’s a chance he may shut them up, but otherwise—’

‘Have to chance it, don’t worry. It’s a big place. Let’s get back, shall we?’

‘What about the faun?’

‘I dare say I could buy his silence, wouldn’t you say?’

‘I’m darned sure you could,’ I said.

‘And there’s no one in the village going to be able to cross the Narh el-Sal’q to report that a white Porsche has been standing in the village street all day. Incidentally, I’ll wait for a bit till I’ve made sure they’ve let you back into the palace. If they don’t, come down again to the ford, and we’ll think again. But I’m certain they will.’

‘It’s all very well for you. I don’t want to have to spend another night without even a nightie.’

‘That’s not my fault, that’s the will of Allah. I’ll bring you a toothbrush tonight, but I’m damned if I’ll climb back across the cascade carrying a nightie. You could always borrow a
djibbah
from Great-Aunt Harriet.’

And on this note of unfeeling comfort he led the way back towards the cascade and the gully.

But who shall teach thee what the night-comer is?

The Koran:
Sura LXXXVI

I
T
all went exactly as Charles would have wished. It seemed almost too easy. Jassim may have imagined it was Nasirulla who was ringing for entry, for he opened the gate immediately, and when he saw who it was, let me in with not much more than a bit of sulky muttering, and in a moment or two I was explaining the circumstances to John Lethman.

If he was put out he concealed it very well. ‘How stupid of me not to have expected this, especially when Nasirulla didn’t turn up. It’s happened before after heavy rain when the snows are still melting. Of course you must stay. Did you really go the whole way up the river to try and find a way across?’

‘Yes, right up to the source, at least I suppose it’s the source, it’s a sort of cascade coming out of the cliff. The driver thought there might be a way over if he helped me, but it would have taken a rock-climber, and I jolly well wasn’t going to risk it. So he gave up, and I came back.’

‘He’s gone back to Beirut?’

I nodded. ‘He said there’d be no chance of its going down before tomorrow. So I gave him a message for my cousin Charles not to come up here, because Great-Aunt Harriet wasn’t well enough to see him.’ I added: ‘That’s how I put it, anyway. I’ll explain better when I see him myself. Are you going to tell her I’ve come back?’

He hesitated, then turned up a hand, smiling. ‘I’m not sure. Let’s defer the decision until she wakes up, shall we?’

‘You play by ear, do you?’

‘Exactly that. Come back to your garden, Miss Mansel. You’re just in time for lunch.’

Whether Jassim had managed to convey the news to Halide, or whether she would normally have shared the meal with John Lethman herself, I had no way of telling. Only a few minutes after he had shown me back to the room in the Seraglio Court, the girl arrived with a tray set for two, which she thumped down with patent resentment on the table, and then stood smouldering at me and directing a rapid stream of Arabic at John Lethman which sounded like nothing more nor less than the spitting of an angry cat.

He took it calmly, only once interrupting with slight irritation, and finally, with a glance at his watch, making some statement that seemed to satisfy her. At any rate it silenced her and sent her away, with another look at me and a flouncing swirl of black skirts. No pretty silks this morning, I noticed, and no paint; just a working dress of rusty black, and none too clean
at that. I thought with half-irritated amusement that if it was competition she was worrying about, she need hardly count me; I hadn’t seen hot water or a hairbrush for more than twenty-four hours, and must look the worse for my long, hot trek up the Nahr el-Sal’q and back; but it wasn’t exactly possible to explain that I wasn’t entering the competition anyway.

Lethman was looking embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry about that. Have a drink.’

He brought a glass of wine and handed it to me. As I took it our hands touched. His was reddish-brown, mine pale brown; but both what you would call white. Perhaps she had reason after all.

‘Poor Halide,’ I said, and sipped the wine. It was the same cool golden stuff of yesterday. I added quickly: ‘It isn’t fair when she has so much to do. Would she be offended if I left her something? I didn’t this morning because I wasn’t quite sure.’

‘Offended?’ There was the slightest edge on his voice. ‘You can’t offend an Arab with money.’

‘How very sensible,’ I said, and helped myself from a dish of
kefta
, savoury meat balls on a mound of rice. ‘This waterfall I saw at the top of the Narh el-Sal’q, does it have any part in the Adonis cult you were telling me about?’

‘Not really, though there’s a minor site near by which was supposed to be a subsidiary of the temple of Venus at Afka. You wouldn’t see it unless you climbed up out of the gorge … no? Well, it’s hardly worth a special trip …’

The rest of the luncheon passed pleasantly, and it
was easy enough to keep him on impersonal subjects. This much to my relief. I didn’t want to strain my talent for deception too far, and my recent meeting with Charles was just a little too vivid in my mind. Any further discussion of family affairs was better avoided, and I wasn’t anxious to press for another interview with Great-Aunt Harriet. And here it seemed probable that John Lethman’s interests coincided with my own.

As soon as lunch was over he got to his feet. If I didn’t mind …? He had things he must see to … If I would excuse him now …? I reassured him quickly, almost too eagerly. The garden was drowsy with the afternoon’s heat, and I would sit there, I told him, and doze over a book. And if I might do a bit of exploring later on? Not the Prince’s Court, of course, but elsewhere? So fascinating … a chance I might never have again … and of course I wouldn’t dream of disturbing Great-Aunt Harriet … no earthly need for her even to
know
…

We parted on a mutual note of restrained relief. After he had gone, taking the tray with him, I collected some cushions off the window-seat and took them out into the garden, where I settled myself at the edge of the pool in the shade of a tamarisk tree.

It was very quiet. The trees hung still, the water was a flat, flashing glass, the flowers drooped in the heat. Near me on the stone a lizard slept motionless, not even moving when a quail shuffled past to settle in the dust, wings outspread. On the broken bridge the peacock displayed half-heartedly to a mate who wasn’t even watching. Somewhere among the blazing magenta
flowers of the bougainvillaea which covered the arcade a bird sang, and I recognised last night’s king, the nightingale. Somehow, he didn’t sound the same as he had with the trappings of storm and starlight. Some finches and a turtle-dove started up in opposition, and the nightingale, with a trill that sounded like a yawn, gave up. I didn’t blame him. I slept.

It was about an hour later that I woke, and the sleepy heat seemed to have overtaken the whole place. Now, there was no sound at all. When I got up from my cushions the lizard flicked out of sight, but the quail never moved its head from under its wing. I set out to explore.

There is little point in describing here in detail my wanderings of that afternoon. It wasn’t likely that any outer gate would open straight into the women’s quarters, but the ‘postern’ had been at the back, and since the Seraglio Court, with its rooms and enormous garden, stretched the full width of the palace at the rear, my search had obviously to start there. Now, the postern had apparently been hidden in the trees at the south-eastern corner. When I looked out of my bedroom window I could just see the tops of those trees where they projected beyond the corner. They were level with my window-sill. The Seraglio, was in fact, a storey and a half above the level of the plateau. The postern must open on some corridor below it, or at the foot of a flight of steps.