Paul caught Owen’s eye and mock wiped his brow.
‘Now where the hell’s the Consul-General’s Lady got to?’ he said, and slipped away.
The band had reached the dam now and, undaunted by the competition, were giving a last mighty blow.
‘Owen,’ said McPhee, ‘have you remembered?’
‘Remembered?’
‘The indecency. The licentiousness.’
‘Well—’
‘Only Her Ladyship is just arriving.’
‘I think she’s too early. It hasn’t begun yet.’
There was a sudden, deafening blare of trumpets. The flotilla beyond the dam began to move. The Kadi was coming!
The din was deafening. Rockets lit the sky in a continuous explosion. Tars clashed, darabukhas drummed. The pipers beside the dam pumped frantically.
From beneath the bows of the Kadi’s barge a small boat shot out and headed for the dam.
The Kadi stood up to read his proclamation, inaudible in the uproar.
And then suddenly you could hear him. The tumult was cut off. The small boat was approaching the dam. The Kadi paused.
The small boat hit the wall and stuck for a moment. There was a concerned gasp from the crowd. But then the specially pointed bows were thrusting forward, the earth on either side falling away, and a great wave of water rushing forward into the canal.
It hit the Bride and dissolved her in an instant. On the banks people began capering in ecstasy.
In a moment the canal was full and the water pouring on downstream. The Kadi’s barge hit the remains of the earth dam, seemed to stick for a second and then surged triumphantly through.
The Khedive’s barge burst through after it, and then a whole line of boats began to come through the gap, their occupants dancing, waving excitedly to the crowds, letting off fireworks and banging every utensil in sight.
On the banks now there was continuous uproar. Musicians were beating the darabukhas frantically. The pipes were piping fit to burst. Almost at once, everyone was dancing.
Over to his right Owen caught sight of Selim at the head of a long line, snaking, or, possibly, lizarding in and out of the cake and sweetmeat stalls. All at once he darted into the crowd and reemerged with a buxom lady, his hands on her hips, at first, and then elsewhere.
‘Owen,’ said McPhee agitatedly, ‘do you think this is entirely suitable?’
On the banks people were stripping off their clothes and diving into the water. Women were brazenly showing off their faces and—was not that an indecent arm? Veils, decency, all was discarded. Well, yes, in some cases, all.
‘Owen,’ began McPhee.
But Zeinab came dancing up and plucked the Mamur Zapt away.
‘Owen,’ tried McPhee again, following them, ‘do you think this is entirely suitable?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Owen over Zeinab’s shoulder. ‘Entirely.’
‘I do feel Her Ladyship—’
But Her Ladyship herself came dancing by at that moment with the surprised but ever-adaptable Paul held firmly in her grasp.
‘Dead?’ said a familiar voice.
‘Well, what do you think?’ said Paul, disengaging himself from Her Ladyship and passing her on deftly to the man from the Khedive’s Office. He came and stood beside Owen, who had lost Zeinab for the moment. She had seen Labiba and Mahmoud talking together very seriously and had decided to help her in going in for the kill.
The two men stood for a moment looking down at the Canal bobbing with boats and swimmers and including now in its embraces Selim, entirely divested of his uniform and hot in pursuit of a lady similarly unencumbered.
‘Lizard Man meets Nile Maiden,’ said Paul affectionately.
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