The Rape of Venice (49 page)

The best road led south-westward through Singhbhum to Saranda and Jharsuguda. Enquiries in the villages through which they passed confirmed that Malderini had taken that way and, as Rai-ul-daula had supposed, was halting only to purchase food and have meals cooked; so, in this first stage, he had gained a further three days on them. But that did not now unduly trouble Roger as, in the long journey back to Europe, his enemy might meet with many unavoidable delays which would bring them up with him.

From Jharsuguda the main artery for traffic ran due west through the heart of the Maratha country to the city of Raipur, then on to Nagpur, the great metropolis of central
India. Day after day the palanquins lumbered on, sometimes through dense jungle and at others through low pastures along the banks of rivers. Frequently, among the bearers who trotted them from village to village, there were men who had helped carry Malderini's palanquins, and after reaching Raipur they learned that he had dropped to a slower pace, halting to sleep at nights; but by then he was a fortnight ahead of them.

On most nights they camped beside a river, so that after the long day Roger could refresh himself with a dip but he, soon decided to give up shaving. Now and then, Mahmud Ali shot a buck, but generally they did not dare to venture far from their camp for fear of wild animals, and sometimes they had to build a ring of fires as protection against them.

Their pace varied greatly. There were days when over flat country they covered as much as forty miles between dawn and dusk but, on others, hills and rough going slowed them down to fifteen and, at times, they lost the greater part of a day owing to the armed retainers of local potentates insisting on taking them before their masters. Sometimes they were received with veiled hostility, and forced to pay a tribute before being allowed to proceed; at others, they were treated with great politeness and, to avoid giving offence, Roger had to allow himself to be entertained for the night. None of these petty Princes could understand his anxiety to push on, and it was only by the exercise of great tact that he could resume his journey after a break of anything from twelve to eighteen hours.

In no way could he have better seen the teeming life of India and the splendid evidence of its ancient civilisation. Behind the walls of each city, narrow streets seethed with jostling multitudes. Richly curtained palanquins borne by slaves lumbered their way through crowds of hucksters, beggars, shouting naked children, and soberly robed women carrying water jars on their heads. At every street corner there was a juggler, holy man, snake charmer or brothel tout. In the villages the evidences of poverty were shocking to behold. Goats and cattle shared the flimsy habitations, and rickety, scrofulous youngsters fought over pieces of water-melon. By contrast, every twenty miles or so, they came upon temples carved with superb artistry and served by dignified, shaven priests, or fairy-like palaces with fountains playing in their courts, carefully
tended gardens, and domes and turrets that stood out as though carved from ivory against the azure sky.

It was after leaving Nagpur that they lost track of Malderini, but that did not greatly worry Roger, as it could now hardly be doubted that the Venetian was heading for a western port on his way back to Venice; so they pushed on through the great state of Badndara to Badnera, and thence to another great city, Malkapur.

There, Roger decided to sell the palanquins and horses and take to the great water highway formed by the rivers Sonala and Tapti, which flowed right down to the Indian Ocean. The transfer to a big gaily-painted barge with sixteen rowers proved advantageous in more ways than one. Overland they had averaged only a little more than twenty miles a day, whereas by water they were doing nearer thirty. At nights Roger had the barge moored well out from the river banks which kept them much freer from the myriads of flies, mosquitoes and other pests that had plagued them unmercifully during the past seven weeks. The heat, too, with the advance of summer had become almost unbearable, and on the water he felt it slightly less. All the same, it was heartfelt relief that he breathed in the sea breeze at Surat when they arrived there on May 26th.

Having financed the return to Bahna of the invaluable Mahmud Ali and his cook, and made them both handsome presents, Roger went in search of a ship. His enquiries led him to an Arab vessel that was loading for Berbera and due to sail in three days' time. He made an arrangement with her captain for himself and a servant. In the latter capacity he engaged, on the recommendation of a banker with whom he had changed money, a merry-looking rascal named Hassan Abu ben Oman.

It was, too, on the banker's advice that he decided to make himself less conspicuous on the next stages of his journey by wearing Arab garments. The Sheiks of the Red Sea lands, and the Turkish government in Egypt, were not openly hostile to Europeans, but in strictly Mohammedan countries there was always a risk that some fanatical mullah might raise a mob against an obvious Christian; so the change was a sound precaution. His ten months in the tropics had made him very bronzed and, during the past seven weeks, he had grown a good beard so, when he had dyed it black and put on robes and turban, he was able to pass easily as a fair-skinned Arab.

While in Zanzibar he had picked up a smattering of Arabic, and as soon as they sailed he began to practise speaking it
regularly with his new servant. From Surat they had a most fortunate passage and docked at Berbera in the Gulf of Aden on June 12th.

There he was held up for only two days before Hassan Abu found for them another ship which was about to sail up the Red Sea for Suez; but, in this part of Roger's journey, luck was against him. The vessel was not only dirty and uncomfortable, but proved much slower than the one in which he had spent fourteen days between Surat and Berbera. Worse still, four days north of the straits of Bab-el-Mandeb she became becalmed for a whole week.

The heat was intolerable. It had been bad enough during the middle of the day when crossing central India but, hot as that had been, it was no more than a gentle warmth compared to this. The sails hung slack, the sun blazed down, thinning the stagnant air into a degree at which it lacked all reviving properties when breathed in and, instead, felt like a draught of molten copper. The deck was so hot that even the hardened feet of the Arab sailors would have blistered had they crossed it, and the only moving things in the vessel for hours on end were the hordes of flies, which enjoyed a happy immunity because their victims were too exhausted by the heat to drive them off.

At last a light breeze enabled the ship to make headway again, but their progress continued to be slow, and the heat so sweltering that Roger reckoned he must have lost a stone in weight during the best part of the month it took him to journey up the Red Sea.

After a night in Suez, Hassan Abu secured camels for them and they joined the daily caravan that was about to set out for Cairo. Again, it proved a slow and uncomfortable method of travelling, so, after an hour or so, Roger suggested to Hassan that they should let their ungainly beasts trot and press on alone. But the young Arab would not hear of it, insisting that, if they left the protection provided by the caravan, desert robbers would certainly capture and hold them to ransom if not kill them. In consequence, the journey took them three gruelling days and it was not until July 10th that they reached Cairo.

On arriving in that fabulous city, Roger was torn between the desire to remain there a while, so that he could see some of its marvels, and the urge to settle his account with Malderini. It was now over three months since Clarissa had died, so his
mind was no longer numb with the ache of losing her; but he still wore the rope of her hair round his neck and had vowed not to take it off until he had killed the fiend who, by his abominable rites, had brought about her death.

The question was decided for him by a most unpleasant bout of stomach upset that laid him out entirely for twenty-four hours. After it he was so exhausted that he felt it would be foolish not to allow himself a few days to recover. During them, by carefully observing and following the behaviour of the Mohammedans, he was able to mingle unsuspected with the crowds of worshippers in several of the great mosques and so see their beautiful interiors. He also made an excursion out to the Pyramids and another down the Nile to Memphis, the ancient capital of the Pharaohs.

As the Delta was highly populated, there was little fear of two travellers being attacked by robbers while riding through it; and, having had more than enough of the discomfort of travelling by camel, Roger bought two horses on which, on the 16th, they set out for Alexandria. Two nights later they reached that splendid city by the sea, and next morning, having at last exhausted the gold that Rai-ul-daula had pressed upon him, he went to a Greek banker named Sarodopulous to change one of his bills on London.

A clerk took the bill into an inner office and the banker himself came out holding it. He was a handsome middle-aged man, with a greying beard. Giving Roger a suspicious glance he asked him how it had come into his possession.

‘It was issued to me by Messrs. Hoare's bank in London against my own account,' Roger replied. Then, knowing that most educated Greeks were multi-lingual, he added in English, ‘I may not look it at the moment, but I am an Englishman.'

‘Forgive me, Sir,' Sarodopulous bowed, ‘but until you spoke I would not have known it. And it is unusual for Arabs to present bills drawn on London. I thought perhaps …'

‘No,' Roger smiled, ‘it's not stolen. I am wearing these clothes only because I have travelled up from Berbera. Now that I am once more in a cosmopolitan city, I must get myself something more in keeping with my nationality.'

‘Perhaps I can be of service to you?' offered the Greek.

Roger thanked him, and went on to compliment the banker on the exceptionally fluent way in which he spoke English.

‘For that there is a simple explanation.' Sarodopulous showed two rows of fine white teeth in a quick laugh. ‘My wife
is English.' Then, after a moment's hesitation, he added, There is nothing she enjoys more than conversing with her countrymen, and I should be honoured if you would care to dine with us.'

Having gladly accepted, that afternoon Roger presented himself at a large white villa, set among palm trees and having a fine view over the lovely bay. Mrs. Emily Sarodopulous proved to be a woman of about forty who evidently had been very good-looking, but she was now enormously fat. Judging by the richness of the dinner she provided, and the way she tucked into it herself, the reason for her bulk was not far to seek; but she had retained an active mind and a passionate attachment to the country of her birth.

Roger soon learned that she was a Suffolk woman, and the daughter of a sea-captain. Some twenty years earlier her father had taken her with him on a voyage and their ship had been wrecked off the coast of Libya. Sarodopulous's firm had been the agents for the ship's owners and, while taking care of her survivors, the young Alexandrian Greek had fallen in love with the pretty English castaway. Their attitude to one another showed that neither had ever regretted it.

As Roger was ten months behind with events in Europe, he naturally plied his host and hostess with many eager questions; and, owing to Sarodopulous's banking connections all over the Mediterranean, he could not have found a better man in Alexandria to bring him up to date.

In October the Archduke Charles had severely defeated the French armies on the Rhine, and this had enabled him to send strong reinforcements down to Italy in the hope of relieving General Würmser, who was besieged in. Mantua by General Buonaparte. But the new Austrian Commander-in-Chief, General Alvintzy, had not proved equal to the task.

Early in November Buonaparte, by a series of swift unexpected moves, had tempted Alvintzy into giving battle in an unfavourable position. Würmser, in a sortie from Mantua, and General Davidovich, with a third Austrian army, had both attempted to come to the assistance of their Commander-in-Chief, but the youthful Corsican had outgeneralled all three old men. There had been three days of desperate fighting at the bridge and across the dykes at Arcola, resulting in a great French victory.

In the depths of winter, Alvintzy had made another bid to relieve Mantua by a strong feint across the lower Adige and
attacking with his main force farther north-west at Rivoli. This led to complete disaster for the Austrians. Having utterly shattered their main army on January 13th, Buonaparte did a lightning swing which compelled the surrender of the lesser. On February 2nd, Würmser surrendered Mantau with a further 18,000 men, 315 cannon and an immense quantity of munitions.

Meanwhile, stung into open hostility by the outrageous demands of France's atheist Government, the Pope had sent his army marching northwards. Having dealt with the Austrians, Buonaparte turned upon it. At the sight of the French bayonets, the Papal forces fled. On February 19th, His Holiness had been forced to buy peace by the payment of a heavy indemnity and the giving up of many of his finest art treasures.

During these months, too, the French agents had been looting all the great cities of Italy of pictures, statues, manuscripts and plate, and sending hundreds of wagonloads of them back to Paris; so that after the surrender of the Pope, Buonaparte had been able to write to the Directory that his victories would yield to France ‘almost every fine thing in Italy, except a few objects at Turin and Naples'.

After Alvintzy's defeat at Rivoli, the Archduke Charles had taken over from him, but even his ability and prestige could not restore Austria's fortunes. Hoche's final pacification of La Vendée the preceding autumn had enabled large reinforcements to be sent to Buonaparte, so he now commanded an army of 70,000 men, led by many of the brilliant soldiers who were to be his future Marshals—among them Berthier, Masséna, Augereau, Sérurier, Lannes, Marmont and Bernadotte. With the confidence imbued by the many victories in which they had participated under their young commander, they swept irresistibly forward, driving the Austrians before them out of the Venetian lands and right round the head of the Adriatic.