I was furious, and had some trouble in hiding my discomfiture. It was true, I had acted foolishly; I could not but admit the justice of the logic of this man who was defending his own interests by taking advantage of my weakness. I felt that he would be relentless and that I should have to go very warily.
‘I see’, I replied, trying to keep my smile unchanged, ‘that in your – I mean, our business, there are rules by which one must abide. Thank you for the lesson, and now pay what you owe me, for I must be going; I did not sleep so well as you last night…’
My smile must have been a pretty wry one, for Stavro observed me mockingly, then said in a friendly tone:
‘Don’t be angry; what’s the use? You were wrong to accuse me of double dealing. If I had been a twister I could have got all your cargo yesterday without having to pay a cent. I should simply have played on your fear of the sentinel. As you may suppose, he had been paid to let you come near. Djebeli knows him, and an occasional thaler keeps friendship warm. We could easily have staged a sham seizure of your sacks as you were handing them over to Djebeli. You would have fled, only too thankful to get off so cheaply with nothing but the loss of your hashish. But that would have been a robbery, since you had confidence in me. Only don’t forget that all the lazy dogs who live from smuggling would not hesitate to use such methods, or even to do away with you if they could do it without risk.’
More and more I felt that I was in this fellow’s hands. I felt the complicated netting of this cunning snare into which I had put my head closing round me. I felt like the little fish in the fable which struggled in vain to free itself, and to whom the fisherman consolingly said: ‘No matter what you do, you’ll be fried this evening.’
‘I’m not angry’, I said after a few moments of silence; ‘I have no reason to be, we are talking and you are teaching me many things, and since you are so wise in this game, tell me frankly what should I do?’
I felt ruefully that this question was an admission of weakness and would give him the advantage over me. But since I could not have the upper hand even in appearance, it was better to go to extremes in the other direction, and let him think that I capitulated unconditionally. This would flatter his vanity, and when a man is flattered he can be more easily led to commit blunders. In such conflicts, when all seems lost, the thing is to gain time and lull the enemy into satisfaction over his victory. During this interlude one sometimes manages to hit on a means to turn the tables.
Stavro assumed a thoughtful air, and hummed and hawed like a doctor with a puzzling case, to conceal his satisfaction in having me at his mercy. Then, stroking his moustache, he said:
‘I think, since you ask my advice, that if you have hidden your cargo in the sand somewhere on the coast you had better fetch it as soon as you can, tonight if possible, and take it far away. I know the objections you will raise to that – the time for the formalities to get out of the harbour, etc. Never mind; give me a man who knows where the cases are, and he can take a boutre out to fetch them.’
‘All right; so you are buying the lot?’
‘Of course; why should I take any interest in the affair otherwise?’
‘That’s true… How much will you pay me in advance?’
‘What, you want something on account? Ah, I can see you have no confidence in me.’
‘Which of us two,’ I retorted, ‘lacks confidence? You show me the way, since you are afraid to advance me anything.’
‘After this, what can you expect me to do? Please don’t make any mistake; there’s no question of mistrust; I’m sure you are perfectly loyal. I’m just wondering where I am to get the money. You probably think I am rolling? Well, the thirty pounds I have just paid you for the ten okes delivered last night were lent me by my sister-in-law.’
‘That doesn’t concern me. When a man comes forward as buyer and claims to be the only man with whom to deal, surely he has the money to pay with. Don’t let us waste time haggling – that’s good only for Armenians or Arabs. Come to the point: give me five hundred pounds and I’ll show you where the three hundred and eighty-eight okes are.’
We argued for half an hour without being a whit further on. Sick of the whole business, I was trying to disengage myself with vague promises, which would permit me to leave on good terms with my adversary without committing myself.
‘All right,’ I said, with an air of acknowledging myself beaten once more. ‘But it’s such a fine night, it’s a pity it’s too late, for by the time we’ve found a boat –’
‘A boat?’ interrupted Stavro. ‘But there’s your boat, all ready, complete with sails, oars, a box of biscuits and a little barrel of water.’
And he waved his hand towards the mysterious bark which lay opposite the icon. I began to laugh as I looked at it, and asked:
‘And is it on wheels?’
Without answering he opened the shutters of a wide window, in the embrasure of which, behind the boat, were piled old brooms, brushes and boxes of all sorts. The window opened on to the lagoon and the water came right up to the wall outside it, but like all the other ground-floor windows, it had thick iron bars across it. I looked at Stavro un-comprehendingly.
‘Ah, you are worrying about the iron bars?’ said the Greek, smiling; ‘look how we dispose of them.’
Then I realized that the bars were not embedded in the wall, but turned on a pivot, leaving a wide opening yawning over the water. Two hooks fixed in the roof-beams carried tackle so that by four men (and Stavro equalled any two ordinary men) the boat could be launched in less than a minute. It was all marvellously organized.
‘Do you often use it?’ I asked.
‘Very seldom; only in exceptional circumstances like tonight.’
‘Never mind all that today’ I interrupted; ‘I am like the Jews – I never do business on Saturdays. Be ready tomorrow night and I’ll send you two men to show you the place.’
‘But Saturday finishes at sunset’, joked Stavro.
‘For the Arabs, perhaps, but I am neither Jew nor Arab, and my Saturday goes on till midnight. Anyhow, I am dead tired; I’m sleeping on my feet.’
He accompanied me to the door, still trying to persuade me.
‘Come along, now, think it over. Your lucky star inspired you to bring two of your men with you. We are four. In one minute the boat will be in the water. It is high tide, the moon has just set, it is barely eleven o’clock. In three hours we should be at the hiding-place, for the wind is in the north.’
I admit that I was tempted to yield. The romantic side of the adventure, the impromptu voyage, the secret window, the mysterious black-draped boat – all that might have come out of a story by Alexander Dumas, and interested me intensely. But the faithful Sancho Panza within me warned me of the folly of delivering my secret to this man who burned to learn it. You never know where cupidity will lead. I liked Stavro, and he had declared himself an honourable bandit, a man of his word, but money was after all his chief interest. And he was a man, subject to temptation. If he found himself in possession of such a stock of hashish, representing such a large profit, he might fall. Better not to tempt the devil, I wisely concluded. Besides, I’d just had a marvellous idea.
TWENTY-NINE
The Miraculous Catch
At last the door closed behind me, and I was once more alone in the street with my two men. At the moment of parting, Stavro had wanted to win over my two sailors, who looked upon him with the greatest distrust because they had thought at one moment that I was about to come to blows with the giant, so he presented Abdi with a water pipe made out of a coco-nut, such as the sailors in these parts smoke. Abdi did not smoke, but he was touched and delighted by this present, and he wanted to squat down on the pavement immediately in order to try it. As soon as we were on board he stirred up the ashes of the cook’s fire to find glowing coals, and woke up all the crew. Some of them, rudely recalled from slumber, consigned him to all the devils, but they got no peace until everyone had tried the new pipe. Finally Abdi, having mad
e himself exceedingly sick, was satisfied.
Early next morning I went to the consulate, knowing that Spiro would be there after mass. I went to invite him to accompany me that afternoon on a pearl-fishing expedition, the first in the gulf. I wanted the consul to find the first pearl, to give a sort of official consecration to the enterprise. Spiro was wild with enthusiasm. The consul was at the ten-o’clock mass, but he was sure he would be delighted to come.
‘Can I ask some’ friends?’ he asked.
‘Friends might be rather in the way,’ I replied; ‘I want to do things very discreetly; there’s no use advertising to all and sundry that there are pearls in the Gulf of Suez. I intend to ask for the monopoly of mother-of-pearl fishing, and such a revelation might make the Government ask too big a price.’
‘You are right, that is most important,’ said Spiro, lowering his voice, and looking round furtively, as if someone were listening at the keyhole.
‘But I have an intimate friend who is a police captain, and he would simply love to come. I have spoken to him about you and he is dying to know you. He is also a friend of the Assistant-manager of Customs, the young man whom the inspector at Kosseir recommended to you, and who would be very pleased to come too.’
‘All right,’ I answered, ‘you can bring those two friends, but no more. ‘Needless to say,’ I added, ‘I ask you to say nothing about the expedition to anybody.’
‘Have no fear on that score…’ and as I went out Spiro accompanied me, walking on tiptoe, and speaking in a whisper, to show that he knew how to keep a secret.
It was agreed that he would telephone me at Port Tewfik to let me know the consul’s answer and at what hour we could leave. He also promised to arrange with another of his intimate friends, who was in the harbour service, so that my boutre could leave the roads without any formalities.
On my way to the station in the Rue Colmar I passed before Stavro’s shop, for in ordinary life he was a greengrocer. I went in on the pretext of buying vegetables, but really to see him. I saw him in the shadows of the back shop, looking at me with alarmed eyes. He seemed to find that my visit was rather compromising, but he must have realized that I had a good reason for coming, for he vanished into a sort of kitchen, beckoning me after him. I disappeared in my turn behind the piles of tomatoes, leaving Ali Omar to make the purchases.
‘Here is why I have come,’ I began without introduction; ‘your friend Spiro and probably the French consul are coming for a sail in my boutre. I am to take them over towards the mountains of Ataqa. I couldn’t refuse, besides, I think it adds to my prestige to be seen with Government officials as much as possible. But I am rather at a loss, for how can I ask such an illustrious company to get into my pirogue? I need a boat which holds five or six in which to take them out to my ship. I should take this boat with me, in case my guests wanted to go ashore at the foot of the mountains.’
‘It is indeed a good idea to take them for a sail. I’ll send Djebeli to find you the sort of boat you need. To save time, perhaps you will send one of your men to fetch him; he is probably in the Arab café beside the level crossing. But I beg of you, don’t come back here. In spite of all these innocent-looking vegetables, I am well known as something quite different from a greengrocer, and the Government officials would think it most peculiar to see us so friendly two days after your arrival, and suspicion would fall on you.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll be like Spiro henceforth; I shan’t see you in the street.’
Ali Omar soon found Djebeli and told him Stavro wanted him, then we went back to the boutre.
My idea was to offer my guests any pearls we might find in the oysters we fished, as a graceful way of thanking them for saving me from undergoing the tiresome formalities of leaving the roads. But I was rather afraid we mightn’t find any, as generally happens when one counts on something in advance. But since I wanted to give them a present, why not give chance a hand by putting the pearls I had among the oysters? The chief value of these pearls in their eyes would be that they had been found in their presence, so it was preferable to put them into oysters beforehand, to make the illusion complete. This trickery was justified, I thought. I sent two men to the inner harbour of Suez, for the sides of the quays were covered with bils-bils at low tide. There were assuredly no pearls in them, but the shells were enormous. They were soon back with a big basket of these bivalves. I let them open in the sun, then I slipped in the pearls. In this way I was sure, even if the expedition was unsuccessful, that my guests would not be disappointed.
At eleven o’clock I saw an orderly from the consulate making signs to me from the quay. Spiro had sent him to tell me that the consul could not come. He was very sorry, and asked if I could put off the excursion until another day. I replied that we could easily make another excursion, but that I expected Spiro and his friends at two o’clock. I was rather relieved that the consul would not be with us. I had felt rather a cad mixing this charming fellow up in such an affair. He had struck me as so absolutely honourable, and he had received me so frankly and trustfully that my little comedy seemed rather cheap. But what was I to do? It was the only way out of a difficult situation. That’s the worst of the sort of adventure into which I had entered. I was often obliged to do things which my conscience found just a trifle shabby. The risks were nothing, but these compromises with my principles were very disagreeable.
To be sure, there was still Spiro, but somehow I didn’t seem to have the same compunction about him. Perhaps because he had the soul of a child, and I felt I was going to amuse him. Anyhow, whatever the reason, I did not have the same scruples about him as about du Gardier.
The boat I had ordered arrived, rowed by two Arabs. I had bought beer, cakes, champagne and ice, for I did things on a grand scale, since I had thirty pounds in my pocket. At last my guests appeared. Spiro was walking ahead in the shade of a parasol. He wore a black jacket, tennis trousers and a straw hat. He had a flower in his button-hole and a smile visible two hundred yards away. After him came the two young effendis of the police and the customs. They had with them two servants laden with packages of food. I insisted on these men remaining ashore, for they would have been very much in my way. Naturally, I pretended it was because of the secrecy it was necessary to observe. Spiro immediately looked like an Egyptian Guy Fawkes.
Presently we were all installed on board the Fat-el-Rahman, which trailed behind her the boat in which the two Arab rowers were already asleep. I had put up an awning, and we spread on the after-deck a fine Persian carpet Spiro had had the good idea of bringing. We skimmed lightly over the calm waters of the roads with all sails set. I had the pleasure of meeting the customs boat going out to visit a big steamer just come up from the south. The crew recognized the languid gentlemen reclining on my deck, and saluted us respectfully. I chuckled inwardly.
We had soon left the bustle of the roads behind us. Spiro was in poetic mood, and compared the swollen sails to butterflies’ wings, the sea to heaps of precious gems of sapphire and emerald; admired the grace of the gulls’ flight, and so on. The others had brought a portable gramophone, for it would be impossible to admire the beauties of nature except to the accompaniment of potted music. They played Arab songs and tried to astonish my men, whom they took to be absolute savages. They were delighted with the Arcadian simplicity of their dress, consisting of a simple twist of material round the loins, and they exclaimed admiringly over the smooth texture of their skins. Then we lay drinking beer and smoking gold-tipped cigarettes while Firan and two Dankalis acted the clown, dancing the most grotesque dances of their country for our amusement. I had not told any of them the real object of this excursion, but they had seen me put the pearls in the bil-bils and they guessed that some good farce was being prepared, so they did what they could to add to the gay atmosphere of the outing.
The reader has of course guessed what I meant to do. I wanted to go to the beach where my cases were buried and see if they were still safe. If so, I should try either
to change them to another hiding-place or to take them on board. I skirted the coast, pretending to be searching for a suitable place to begin pearl fishing; we were already out of sight of Suez. At last the beach came in sight. My heart beat fit to burst as I took my telescope and swept it over the sands. All my men shared my emotion and all instinctively tried to hide it by singing more loudly than ever. I took the boutre in as far as I dared, and anchored in shallow water. I then noticed two men hiding under a rock. They got up as we approached. They were only a few yards from where our cargo was buried. Ali Omar nudged me and pointed out to sea, and I saw a sail making for the point where we were. I easily recognized the boutre that had so worried me the day of my arrival. I wondered if the two men were waiting for it. Decidedly, I must get my cases away. But first of all I must get rid of these two men. Already the very official-looking tarbooshes worn by my two guests had their effect, and the men were cautiously edging away towards the back of the dunes.
‘Look at those two Arabs’, I said to Spiro; ‘I don’t want them to go and spread the news that we are fishing for pearls.’
‘Don’t worry, my friend will say a few words to them, and I guarantee they won’t linger.’
But the unknown pair seemed to have good eyesight, and to have already recognized those on board, for they now broke into a run, and fled northwards.
‘If you are not afraid of the sun,’ I then said to my guests, ‘we’ll begin fishing on the reefs behind this promontory. I have already found interesting shells there and perhaps we shall be lucky again. You can go and watch the divers at work and see the whole process.’
Spiro and his two friends installed themselves in the stem of the boat I had borrowed, not forgetting their precious sunshade. We glided towards the reef, followed by the two Dankalis in the pirogue. They had their mourailla with them, through which they inspected the bed of the sea, and also a harba with which to harpoon dangerous beasts, and placed on their nose the kartoum, a pair of horn tweezers which they generally wore as a sort of pendant round their necks. Of course I had hidden in the houri the bil-bils containing the pearls, for use in case we didn’t find any. Once we were round the point we could see nothing but the top of the Fat-el-Rahman’s mast rising above the spit of land. The divers intoned the bismillah commending their souls to God, then took immense breaths and dived.
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