Courts of Idleness (17 page)

I loosened the strap, dived for the saddle, was flung on to the animal’s neck, and was hurled backwards again in something under one second.

As I lugged at the cord attached to the brute’s nose, I could hear Adèle sobbing with laughter. Solemnly I turned and regarded her.

“That’s right,” I said. “You have a good laugh. I’m not sensitive. But, if you do fall off, don’t forget we’re done. I’ll never be able to get the swine to kneel down again. I’ve forgotten the password.”

“I’m sorry,” she wailed. “I’m sorry. But if you could have seen–” The merry voice trailed off into another gust of laughter. Helplessly I laughed with her.

We were nearing Mena, when the sound of voices made us look round. The three Staff officers, followed by their orderlies, were fifty paces behind us and coming up. We were just about to pass between two sand-hills, and if they were to keep on the level, they must ride close to us as they went by.

The General was talking to the Major upon his right. The latter was regarding us fixedly. It
was
Berry.

“Yes, I can see it isn’t hers now; but the camel my wife rides is very like that one on the right, and she said she might be taking the Professor out here this afternoon. He’s rather an authority on excavation, you know.”

With the tail of my eye I saw Adèle start violently at his words. I urged my mount to her side.

“Carry it off,” I growled, “carry it off. They’ll be by in a moment. Berry’s there, but don’t notice him.”

She nodded.

I heard a horse snort, and the General laughed.

“Ah, Pleydell, your pony camel-shy? Now, this old fellow of mine is a wonder. Never turns a hair. I believe you could run him in double harness with a camel and he wouldn’t object. Any camel in the world, that is, except one. And that’s the one I was speaking of – my wife’s. D’you know, there’s a sort of feeling between those two animals. Whenever he comes anywhere near it, the brute produces its water bottle and gurgles at him. And he won’t have it at any price. Squeals and kicks, and he’s away if he’s half a chance.”

“’Straordinary thing, sir,” said Berry gravely.

They were only twenty paces behind us now, and the General pushed his mount into a trot to pass. As I have said, it was a narrow place. He made to overtake us on the right, and as he drew abreast of Adèle, her camel deliberately turned, opened its mouth, revealing a kind of bladder, and gave vent to a most offensive gurgle. The result was appalling. In less time than it takes to record the disaster, the General’s horse squealed, lashed out like a wild animal, swung round, and streaked into the desert.

To say that the sudden swerve unsettled the General would be to understate what occurred. After travelling for about two hundred yards, seemingly crouched upon the near shoulder of his mount, that gallant officer appeared to succumb to the inevitable, for he slid slowly round its neck and took a first-class toss about fifty yards later.

The awful silence was broken by the ADC.

“Hurray! He’s off,” observed that gentleman, with an indecent relish. Then he winked at Berry and galloped in the direction of his fallen chief, with the two orderlies thundering behind him. It was with relief that I noticed that the distant huddle of khaki and red was sitting up and looking about him.

Adèle and I pushed on.

“Can you beat it?” said Berry. A glance showed me that he was riding as close behind us as his horse would permit. “Can you beat it? First they pinch his wife’s camels, and then they subscribe to one of the most unwarrantable outrages upon his person that I have ever witnessed. Most serious. Larceny of two live camels and grievous bodily harm by means of a trick. They won’t be out for years. When charged, they made no reply. A long list of previous convictions against the male prisoner was proved by his brother-in-law, for whom great sympathy was felt. Police officers from New York identified his accomplice as Slipaway Doll, a notorious female crook, who was wanted for a daring jewel robbery in Philadelphia.”

I looked over my shoulder.

“Go away,” I said. “We found the camels straying, and are now in the act of restoring them to their rightful owners.”

Berry continued to soliloquize.

“It is understood that a further indictment for perjury will be preferred, in view of the hideous lies with which the accused sought to palliate their abominable behaviour. The thanks of the community as a whole are due to Major Pleydell, but for whose prompt action and fearless sense of duty these desperate characters might still be at large. Seriously, if I wasn’t here, you’d be for it, you two. I don’t know what on earth you’ve been doing, but judging from Adèle’s headgear, I associate you with that Handley-Page we were looking at. I must hear all about it at dinner. And now listen. It’s a great deal more than you deserve, but my car’s at Mena, as well as the General’s. I’ll ride on and tell the driver to expect you and to take you to Cairo just as quick as he can. Hand the camels over to one of those guide fellows on the right, and sprint for Mena House for all you’re worth.”

The next moment he was gone in a flurry of sand.

By this time we were under the shade of the Great Pyramid, and the ground was hard. I slid off somehow, and Adèle took a flying leap into my arms, as the natives to whom I had beckoned came running up. As we ran down the slope to Mena House, Berry met and passed us at the canter. By way of greeting he just raised his eyes to heaven.

A moment later we were in the car and stealing along the long straight road that leads to Giseh.

Carefully I wrapped the rugs about Adèle lest she should take cold.

Berry helped himself to another glass of port.

“The point,” he said, “is this. Am I a
deus ex machina
or not?”

“That,” said I, “was your role this afternoon. But I wish you’d tell me what you told the General.”

“Suffice it that I beguiled him.”

I sighed.

“When you are secretive,” I said, “I become uneasy. Any unusual action on your part is a sure sign of mischief. To take am extreme example, if you took to drinking water, I should leave the country.”

My brother-in-law smiled.

“Since you press me,” he said, with a yawn, “I told him the truth.”

“You didn’t?”

He nodded.

“Names and all. Said you’d pinched the camels and ridden them, knowing them to have been stolen. I added that you suffered from delusions, and that this afternoon you thought you were Abraham. Adèle was acting under your coercion. He was rather wild at first, but he’s mad on Bridge, and when I told him you were one of the best players in the United Kingdom, he got quite chirpy. You’re going to make a four at the Turf Club tomorrow evening.”

“I might have known,” said I wearily. “You know I hate cards, and that I play Bridge about twice a year.”

“Never mind,” said Berry, piercing a cigar. “If you revoke more than once, put the blame on me, and say that I made a mistake, and it’s Grab you’re such a nut at – or draughts. If he tries to assault you, pretend that you think you’re John Bunyan in a fit of religious terror. Has any gentleman got a lucifer match?”

The train which was to bear us to Port Said, en route for England, was due to leave Cairo in less than a minute, and Jonah, Berry, and I were about to follow the girls into the corridor carriage, when a shriek from Adèle attracted our attention. We rushed down the corridor, to see the far door of the compartment open and Adèle swinging herself down on to the metals. Jill pointed excitedly to a native who was running as hard as he could with a green dressing case in his hand.

As I passed Adèle I heard a whistle.

“Go back!” she cried. “You’ll lose the train.”

“And leave you behind? Not likely.”

A moment later the thief dropped his booty – for I was overtaking him fast – and started to leg it harder than ever. Recognizing the hopelessness of trying to catch him, now that he had shed his encumbrance, I contented myself with picking up the dressing case, and turned to see the train gliding out of the station. Framed in the doorway of the compartment we had left were as much of Berry, Jonah, Daphne and Jill as its dimensions would admit. All four were waving and crying what I took to be instructions and advice. Thirty paces away stood Adèle – all among the points – waving frantically in response.

As the train roared into the distance, I began to pick my way across the rails to where my companion was standing. She spread out her hands with a little gesture of dismay.

“I’m so dreadfully sorry,” she cried. “I’ve made you miss your train, and—”

“He made us miss our train,” I corrected, nodding in the direction of the runaway thief. “It wasn’t your fault. I only wish I could have caught the brute.”

“I can never thank you enough. But whatever shall we do?”

It was certainly awkward.

It was now half-past four. Another train would not leave for Port Said until ten the next morning and the boat by which we were sailing was expected to leave at noon on that day. Incidentally, with the exception of the contents of the dressing case, neither of us had anything at all but the clothes we were wearing.

It is, however, the acute crisis which provokes the brain-wave.

As we left the line for the platform, I caught Adèle by the arm.

“Adèle, will you waste your sweetness on the desert air a second time? In other words, if Geoffrey can fly us to Port Said, are you on?”

“But of course!”

The little group of curious officials who were stolidly regarding our approach were galvanized into action by my peremptory demand for a telephone, and I was conducted to the RTO’s office without delay. As soon as the connection had been made, and I recognized Geoffrey’s voice:

“I say, old fellow,” said I, “have you got another pair of slacks you don’t want?”

“What – again?” he cried. “Besides, I thought you’d gone.”

I explained. When I had finished:

“There’s a Handley-Page going to Ismailia in half an hour,” he said. “I’m not taking her really, but I will. Can you do it? She’ll have to dress in my hut.”

“Is Ismailia any good?” I queried.

“The train you missed’ll call there about nine.”

“Prepare the slacks,” said I. “We will be with you in fifteen minutes.”

We were. And in another twenty we were off the ground and heading north-east.

Fifty minutes later we sighted Lake Timsah, and when we landed in a spacious aerodrome at Ismailia, it was barely an hour since we had left Cairo.

Fortunately our arrival occasioned no excitement, and, with the exception of a mechanic or two, nobody appeared as we taxied towards the hangars.

Geoffrey pointed to a shed in the distance.

“That’s where they keep the cars and tenders,” he said. “Just stroll over there, and I’ll find the EO and get him to send you into the town right away.”

He was as good as his word.

As we reached the garage, I heard a mechanic speaking upon the telephone.

“Very good, sir. To the station at once. Yes, quite ready. Goodbye, sir.”

The next moment he was starting up a great touring car.

As we took our seats, Geoffrey came running up.

“Aren’t you coming?” said Adèle.

He shook his head.

“Might see you later at the Club, unless you take an earlier train to Port Said. The one your party’s on won’t fetch up there till about eleven. If you do, just leave the coats at the Club. I’ll have to dine in the mess here tonight, anyway. If I don’t see you again…” He put out his hand.

Adèle caught that and the other in her own.

“I can’t ever thank you enough,” she said. “Come to America one day, and I’ll try and show you I’m grateful. When I think of your beautiful trousers, I feel so guilty. Two pairs!”

“Cheap at the price,” said Geoffrey gallantly. “And so long as I have a pair to my back, they’re always at your service.”

“Goodbye, St Martin.”

“So long, Geoffrey,” said I. “You know what I think of you. Come home soon.”

Geoffrey nodded to the chauffeur, and the car slid past a sentry and on to the white-brown track. We turned and waved till we could see him no longer.

We stopped at the Club. Here I learned that the station was five minutes’ walk, and that a train left for Port Said in a quarter of an hour.

After a hurried consultation we dismissed the car, and, as we emerged from the garden entrance, no one would have recognized the smart American girl and her companion as the two muffled aviators who had entered the Club from the street five minutes before.

To catch the down train was easy enough.

At eleven o’clock Adèle and I were still seated upon the verandah of the Casino Palace Hotel, Port Said, taking our ease. We had dined excellently, if a little late, and were feeling as fresh as paint. Except for a distant waiter and a party of French people at the other end of the verandah, we were alone.

“They’ll be here any time now,” said I, looking at my watch. “Keep calm.”

Adèle gurgled delightedly.

“Berry’ll have a fit when he sees us,” she said. “I wouldn’t miss his face for a thousand dollars.”

“Which reminds me,” said I. “You and I have an account to square.”

My companion stopped laughing and sat very still. I turned to glance at her. She was leaning back in her bent-cane chair, looking straight ahead into the darkness over the sea, whose great rollers we could hear tumbling lazily towards us but a hundred paces away. As I looked, a puff of wind ruffled its way through her soft, dark hair. The light was dim, and I could not be sure whether that same faint ghost of a smile that once before had mocked me was haunting her red mouth. I continued:

“You were to give me anything, you remember, if I got you back to Cairo that evening by half-past six.”

“In reason,” whispered Adèle.

“Would you rather knit me a body-belt in the Guards’ colours, or let me see your ears?”

The ghost became a reality.

“Which you like,” said Adèle.

“What’s the American for ‘darling’?” I said. “I want to address you.”

As she paid her debt, the rattle of more than one approaching
arabiya
made itself heard. We settled ourselves nonchalantly, and began to discuss the situation in Poland.