The Quest of Julian Day (33 page)

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Authors: Dennis Wheatley

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BOOK: The Quest of Julian Day
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‘It will take us an hour and a quarter to ride back,' I said, ‘so we won't make it much before six. I doubt if the party will remain ashore for more than three hours so we'll only just do it by leaving now, as it is.'

‘Are you afraid that the boat will sail without us?'

‘Oh, no,' I smiled. ‘However late we are it won't do that. They may think we've got lost and send out a search-party from the village, but it would be as much as the Purser's job is worth to leave two of his passengers marooned in a place like Tel-el-Amarna.'

‘Well, then,' she pouted. ‘What are you worrying about? The ride has tired me. You are unkind and have no consideration. I must rest a little before I mount that silly animal again.'

‘It isn't that I want to hurry you in the least,' I assured her. ‘But if the ship is due to sail at six and has to wait for us, think of the tittle-tattle it's bound to cause among the passengers.'

‘If it is that you are frightened of, you'd better go back alone,' she shrugged. ‘I can find my way without you.'

‘As though I care what those stuffy people say about me! They are only a stupid rabble. But I waste my breath in arguing with you. It is obvious that you must be tired of my company since you are in such a hurry to get back on board.'

‘Now, really!' I protested. ‘That's utter nonsense and you know it.'

‘Well then, forget the stupid ship and let me rest for a little while. My poor legs are absolutely giving under me. Come and sit down here.'

I will confess that I did not really need very much persuasion. She looked such a forlorn little figure standing there in the silent, deserted valley and her face was quite adorable under her dark, curling hair. What did it matter if the ship's departure were to be delayed for a little and we were to provide a crowd of people in whom we had not the least interest with matter for a mild scandal?

‘As long as you're game to stay here, I am,' I smiled as she sat down in front of a big boulder. ‘But I don't think your back can be very comfortable against that rock. Wouldn't it be nicer for you it you leaned against my shoulder?'

Suiting the action to the word I put my arm round her and she nestled her head down on my chest.

‘No biting this time,' I said softly.

She laughed. ‘You must take your chance of that.'

I took it, with results extremely satisfactory to all concerned, and we snuggled down together warmly embraced in the loose, soft sand.

How long we remained like that I don't really know; however long it was the time was all too short, because Oonas and I were no novices at the delightful game we were playing and, within limits, she let me love her to my heart's content. It is a game that cannot be played indefinitely when there is a limit, though; and it was she who broke the party up by saying:

‘We've lots of time before us, darling, and I'm afraid I'm a little too sophisticated to be quite contented with a bed of sand. I think we ought to get back to the village and that wretched ship.'

We kissed again and, standing up, shook the sand out of our clothes, mounted our donkeys and rode back down the valley. The time had passed quickly as it always does on such occasions and although we hurried our donkeys as much as we could, before we got back the sun was beginning to set.

I knew that by this time the Purser must be cursing us wholeheartedly and visualised the gossip-avid passengers lining the rail as they watched for our return; but there was one thing I had not bargained for. When we reached the palm-fringed bank above the place where we had come ashore the ship was no longer there.

16
Old Nick's Own Daughter

I knew well enough that we were shockingly late and had no valid excuse to offer; although with Oonas' shapely arms round my neck I would not have been human if I had insisted on breaking up our party at the tomb earlier. But that was not the point. For all the Purser and that facetious fool Mahmoud could know we might be lost somewhere out in the desert, with night approaching. They were responsible for us and it was positively disgraceful that they should have gone off like this. I could only imagine that it was sheer slackness and that they believed we had come aboard with the other passengers. Fuming with rage I considered the position. The ship was due to anchor that evening at Beni Mohammed and although I had no map with me to check the distance I was under the impression that it was a good thirty miles upstream. How to get back on board that night presented the devil of a problem.

‘We're in a proper mess!' I exclaimed as we brought our perspiring donkeys to a halt on the outskirts of the village.

To my surprise Oonas suddenly laughed.

I turned in my saddle and looked at her. ‘It's all very well, but being stranded here is no joke. If this were a bigger place we could hire a motor-boat and catch them up, but you can see for yourself that there are only a couple of sailing-craft down by the river. We could get across in one of those and the railway's probably not more than two or three miles inland from the other bank; that's about our only hope.'

She shook her head. ‘No good, my dear. All we could do on donkeys would be to reach some local halt and trains only stop at such places once a day, at most.'

‘In that case we won't be able to get back to the ship until
tomorrow at the earliest. I'm afraid your reputation will be in ribbons by that time.'

‘How nice of you to be so worried for me; but you have no need to be. I do not care two hoots what those people think.'

Her indifference to possible scandal certainly made things easier for me but, all the same, I was far from being happy about the turn things had taken. I make no pretence whatever to being a saint and, seeing the way things were shaping between us, I was perfectly capable of having deliberately planned that we should miss the ship but, now that it had happened fortuitously, I had a curious feeling of responsibility for her. I think she almost read my thoughts, as she went on with a wicked little smile:

It doesn't seem to have occurred to you that most men would consider themselves extremely lucky at having to spend a night on shore alone with me. This little adventure might prove rather fun, you know.'

Not wishing to appear a prude. I hid these strange reactions, which puzzled even myself, by protesting quickly: ‘My dear, it's the sort of thing I would have given my eyes for if we hadn't landed up in this miserable little dorp. I'm sure you don't like fleas and lice any more than I do. What I'm really worrying about is where we can spend the night.'

She shrugged and cast a glance at the village, which consisted of no more than a score of native hutments:

‘Allah will provide.'

A crowd of men and boys were already hurrying towards us and Oonas questioned them as they came running up. The ship had waited for an hour past its proper time of departure but when we had failed to return the Purser had left a message with the local Sheik to say that if we were not back by sundown a party was to be sent out to find us. He had asked him to express his regret at having to leave us behind and say that he dared not delay the sailing of the ship any longer; otherwise she would not be able to get into her proper anchorage at Beni Mohammed before dark. That was a reason for his sailing I had not thought of and, of course, it
was
the passengers' responsibility to get back at the proper time after each excursion.

The Sheik, an old man with a friendly twinkle in his rheumy eyes, came hobbling up with the aid of a long stick, and I
asked Oonas to enquire from him about the possibility of trains; but it seemed that her gloomy forebodings were justified. The nearest halt on the far side of the river was a place called Deir Mowas but trains only stopped at it three times a week. A south-bound train was due the following morning but until then we were stuck.

He had, however, one cheering piece of news for us. Oonas' maid had left the ship just before it sailed and was now in the village with her mistress' luggage. We asked the Sheik what accommodation there was to be had and the none-too-clean old man placed his house at our disposal with the lordly courtesy of one offering a palace.

Dismounting from our donkeys we followed him along the bank and through the mud-walled village, accompanied by the entire population of screaming children and ragged
fellaheen
, while black-clad, veiled women peered curiously at us from the low doorways of the houses. Oonas' maid met us in a sort of lane, which could certainly not be dignified by the name of street but seemed the only thoroughfare between two groups of hovels. She was a quiet, colourless female—probably Syrian—and, although I had seen her about, I had hardly noticed her during the time on the ship, yet she evidently had her wits about her as, in addition to bringing off Oonas' luggage, she had made my steward put a few things in a bag for me when she had learnt that the ship was sailing with out us.

The Sheik's house, when we reached it, proved to be a single-storeyed building and, as far as I could judge, it only contained two rooms. The outer one was full of women but the Shiek drove them out with kicks and curses while we sat down on the rush mats which covered the floor. The place stank abominably of goats and was littered with filth of every description. What the inner room was like I did not see but I was already convinced that to spend a night anywhere in that hovel would be absolute torture.

Coffee was served to us and while we drank it Oonas and the Sheik carried on a leisurely conversation. I did not pay much attention but presently I caught the word ‘tents' and almost immediately afterwards Oonas turned to me.

‘We're in luck,' she said. ‘Since last winter he has been storing some tents for a party of excavators and they have not
returned here yet. It was a little difficult to avoid offending the old man by saying we would rather not sleep in his house but I insisted that, rather than inconvenience him, the tents should be set up outside the village for us.'

‘Thank God!' I murmured. ‘What a marvellous break. My ankles are beginning to itch already where the inhabitants are biting me and I was trying to resign myself to being eaten alive here.'

‘I'm afraid you'll have to put up with that for a bit,' she shrugged. ‘He is having his fatted calf cooked and we shall mortally offend him if we don't remain here to eat it.'

It was abominably hot in the low, fusty room as there was a fire on the floor near the doorway and no other ventilation for the smoke, which made our eyes smart horribly. The Sheik left us to give orders about erecting the tents and for three-quarters of an hour we had to put up with the heat and stench as well as we could while the meal was being prepared.

When it arrived the ‘fatted calf' turned out to be a large dish of pigeons. There were no plates, knives or forks and the big, round platter was just set down in the centre of the room, while Oonas, the Sheik, his eldest son—a wall-eyed man of about forty whom he had introduced to us—and myself squatted round it. The dish was served by the simple expedient of the Sheik's placing his hand in the centre of it and presenting us with a pigeon apiece, which we proceeded to tear limb from limb with our teeth and fingers.

I was a little leary of the flat slab of bread which was handed round for us to tear pieces off as I had so often seen similar loaves being prepared in the dirt outside native huts where they were smothered with flies and where all the filth near by got blown onto them; but I avoided eating the crust and found the inside unexpectedly good, although unleavened bread is terribly filling and, after a few mouthfuls, I had to give it up for fear I should not be able to do justice to the rest of the food provided for us. As it was, one pigeon would have been ample for my requirements but three apiece were pressed upon us and I knew enough of native customs to realise that our host would consider himself insulted if we did not gorge ourselves to the limit.

The pigeons were followed by a dish of tiny hens' eggs and
sweet corn which we sopped up with the unleavened bread, all dipping into the dish as hard as we could go; then came goat's-milk cheese and a sticky, undefinable sort of sweetmeat. More coffee was served, after which Oonas belched politely and bowing to the Sheik said, ‘
Mahbruk
!' meaning, ‘Congratulations on the excellent meal you have provided.' As she did so she nudged me slightly so I promptly followed suit and our hosts demonstrated their satisfaction in a similar manner.

The old boy then clapped his hands loudly and that seemed to be the signal for which the entire population of the village had been waiting. In a second the room was filled by natives of all ages scrambling for the remains of the feast, with excited cries and hectic laughter, while our host led us outside.

The fresh night air was like perfumed wine after the noxious odours in the Sheik's living-room and I sucked in great, deep breaths of it as we followed the old man along the bank to a spot about forty yards above the river, where the tents had been pitched among a grove of palms.

There were two of them; an ordinary, bell-shaped, Army tent and a spacious-looking marquee. I assumed at once that the former was for me and I was immediately relieved of an uneasiness which had been growing in me for the past hour. As I was not supposed to know Arabic I had been unable to inform the Sheik that Oonas and I were not related; so I had feared that if she too had failed to inform him of that fact the sleeping arrangements made for us might prove extremely embarrassing.

In normal surroundings I would have felt that Oonas was perfectly capable of taking care of herself and therefore fair game if I could get her; but being thrown together for the night like this was quite a different matter so I had made up my mind that I ought to do the decent thing and suppress any impulse to take advantage of the situation. I'm not saying that my resolution would have held if it had been suggested that we shared a tent and she had showed no objection, but now it seemed that the cup of temptation was to be removed some thirty feet and two thicknesses of canvas from me. Of course, there was always the chance that Oonas might find it necessary to come and borrow some matches from me during the night but, even at
the risk of disappointing her, I had no intention of thinking of an excuse for paying her a visit.

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