Chapter 12

Sarah went down to the big marquee. She found her three fellow travelers there. They were sittingat table eating. The guide was explaining that there was another party here.

‘They came two days ago. Go day after tomorrow. Americans. The mother, very fat, verydifficult get here! Carried in chair by bearers—they say very hard work—they get very hot—yes.’

Sarah gave a sudden spurt¹ of laughter. Of course, take it properly, the whole thing was funny!

The fat dragoman looked at her gratefully. He was not finding his task too easy. LadyWestholme had contradicted him out of Baedeker three times that day and had now found faultwith the type of bed provided. He was grateful to the one member of his party who seemed to beunaccountably in a good temper.

‘Ha!’ said Lady Westholme. ‘I think these people were at the Solomon. I recognized the oldmother as we arrived here. I think I saw you talking to her at the hotel, Miss King.’

Sarah blushed guiltily, hoping Lady Westholme had not overheard much of that conversation.

‘Really, what possessed² me!’ she thought to herself in an agony.

In the meantime Lady Westholme had made a pronouncement. ‘Not interesting people at all.

Very provincial,’ she said.

Miss Pierce made eager sycophantish noises and Lady Westholme embarked³ on a history ofvarious interesting and prominent Americans whom she had met recently.

The weather being so unusually hot for the time of year, an early start was arranged for themorrow.

The four assembled for breakfast at six o’clock. There were no signs of any of the Boyntonfamily. After Lady Westholme had commented unfavourably on the absence of fruit, theyconsumed tea, tinned milk, and fried eggs in a generous allowance of fat flanked by extremely saltbacon.

Then they started forth⁴, Lady Westholme and Dr Gerard discussing with animation⁵ on the partof the former the exact value of vitamins in diet and the proper nutrition of the working classes.

Then there was a sudden hail from the camp and they halted to allow another person to join theparty. It was Mr Jefferson Cope who hurried after them, his pleasant face flushed with the exertionof running.

‘Why, if you don’t mind, I’d like to join your party this morning. Good morning, Miss King.

Quite a surprise meeting you and Dr Gerard here. What do you think of it?’

He made a gesture indicating the fantastic red rocks that stretched in every direction.

‘I think it’s rather wonderful and just a little horrible,’ said Sarah. ‘I always thought of it asromantic and dream-like—the “rose-red city”. But it’s much more real than that—it’s as real as—as raw beef.’

‘And very much the colour of it,’ agreed Mr Cope.

‘But it’s marvelous, too,’ admitted Sarah.

The party began to climb. Two Bedouin guides accompanied them. Tall men, with an easycarriage, they swung upward unconcernedly in their hobnailed boots completely foot-sure on theslippery slope. Difficulties soon began. Sarah had a good head for heights and so had Dr Gerard.

But both Mr Cope and Lady Westholme were far from happy, and the unfortunate Miss Pierce hadto be almost carried over the precipitous places, her eyes shut, her face green, while her voice roseceaselessly in a perpetual wail⁶.

‘I never could look down places. Never—from a child!’

Once she declared her intention of going back, but on turning to face the descent, her skinassumed an even greener tinge⁷, and she reluctantly decided⁸ that to go on was the only thing to bedone.

Dr Gerard was kind and reassuring⁹. He went up behind her, holding a stick between her and thesheer drop like a balustrade and she confessed that the illusion of a rail did much to conquer thefeeling of vertigo¹⁰.

Sarah, panting a little, asked the dragoman, Mahmoud, who, in spite of his ample proportions,showed no signs of distress¹¹:

‘Don’t you ever have trouble getting people up here? Elderly ones, I mean.’

‘Always—always we have trouble,’ agreed Mahmoud serenely¹².

‘Do you always try and take them?’

Mahmoud shrugged¹³ his thick shoulders.

‘They like to come. They have paid money to see these things. They wish to see them. TheBedouin guides are very clever—very sure-footed—always they manage.’

They arrived at last at the summit. Sarah drew a deep breath.

All around and below stretched the blood- red rocks — a strange and unbelievable countryunparalleled anywhere. Here in the exquisite¹⁴ pure morning air they stood like gods, surveying abaser world—a world of flaring¹⁵ violence.

Here was, as the guide told them, the ‘Place of Sacrifice’—the ‘High Place’. He showed themthe trough cut in the flat rock at their feet.

Sarah strayed away from the rest, from the glib¹⁶ phrases that flowed so readily from thedragoman’s tongue. She sat on a rock, pushed her hands through her thick black hair, and gazeddown on the world at her feet. Presently she was aware of someone standing¹⁷ by her side. DrGerard’s voice said:

‘You appreciate the appositeness of the devil’s temptation in the New Testament¹⁸. Satan tookOur Lord up to the summit of a mountain and showed Him the world. “All these things will I givethee, if thou wilt¹⁹ fall down and worship me.” How much greater the temptation up on high to be aGod of Material Power.’

Sarah assented²⁰, but her thoughts were so clearly elsewhere that Gerard observed her in somesurprise.

‘You are pondering something very deeply,’ he said.

‘Yes, I am.’ She turned a perplexed²¹ face to him.

‘It’s a wonderful idea—to have a place of sacrifice up here. I think sometimes, don’t you, that asacrifice is necessary… I mean, one can have too much regard for life. Death isn’t really soimportant as we make out.’

‘If you feel that, Miss King, you should not have adopted our profession. To us, Death is andmust always be—the Enemy.’

Sarah shivered.

‘Yes, I suppose you’re right. And yet, so often death might solve a problem. It might mean,even, fuller life…’

‘It is expedient²² for us that one man should die for the people!’ quoted Gerard gravely.

Sarah turned a startled face on him.

‘I didn’t mean—’ She broke off. Jefferson Cope was approaching them.

‘Now this is really a most remarkable²³ spot,’ he declared. ‘Most remarkable, and I’m only toopleased not to have missed it. I don’t mind confessing that though Mrs Boynton is certainly a mostremarkable woman — I greatly admire her pluck in being determined²⁴ to come here — it doescertainly complicate²⁵ matters travelling with her. Her health is poor, and I suppose it naturallymakes her a little inconsiderate of other people’s feelings, but it does not seem to occur to her thather family might like occasionally to go on excursions without her. She’s just so used to themclustering round her that I suppose she doesn’t think—’

Mr Cope broke off. His nice kindly²⁶ face looked a little disturbed and uncomfortable.

‘You know,’ he said, ‘I heard a piece of information about Mrs Boynton that disturbed megreatly.’

Sarah was lost in her own thoughts again—Mr Cope’s voice just flowed pleasantly in her earslike the agreeable murmur²⁷ of a remote stream, but Dr Gerard said:

‘Indeed? What was it?’

‘My informant was a lady I came across in the hotel at Tiberias. It concerned a servant girl whohad been in Mrs Boynton’s employ. The girl, I gather, was—had—’

Mr Cope paused, glanced delicately at Sarah and lowered his voice. ‘She was going to have achild. The old lady, it seemed, discovered this, but was apparently²⁸ quite kind to the girl. Then afew weeks before the child was born she turned her out of the house.’

Dr Gerard’s eyebrows²⁹ went up.

‘Ah,’ he said reflectively.

‘My informant seemed very positive of her facts. I don’t know whether you agree with me, butthat seems to me a very cruel and heartless thing to do. I cannot understand—’

Dr Gerard interrupted him.

‘You should try to. That incident, I have no doubt, gave Mrs Boynton a good deal of quietenjoyment.’

Mr Cope turned a shocked face on him.

‘No, sir,’ he said with emphasis. ‘That I cannot believe. Such an idea is quite inconceivable.’

Softly Dr Gerard quoted:

‘So I returned and did consider all the oppressions done beneath the sun. And there wasweeping and wailing³⁰ from those that were oppressed and had no comfort; for with theiroppressors there was power, so that no one came to comfort them. Then I did praise the deadwhich are already dead, yea, more than the living which linger still in life; yea, he that is not isbetter than dead or living; for he doth not know of the evil that is wrought³¹ for ever on earth…’

He broke off and said:

‘My dear sir, I have made a life’s study of the strange things that go on in the human mind. It isno good turning one’s face only to the fairer side of life. Below the decencies and conventions ofeveryday life, there lies a vast reservoir of strange things. There is such a thing, for instance, asdelight in cruelty for its own sake. But when you have found that, there is something deeper still.

The desire, profound and pitiful, to be appreciated. If that is thwarted³², if through an unpleasingpersonality a human being is unable to get the response it needs, it turns to other methods—it mustbe felt—it must count—and so to innumerable strange perversions³³. The habit of cruelty, like anyother habit, can be cultivated, can take hold of one—’

Mr Cope coughed. ‘I think, Dr Gerard, that you are slightly exaggerating. Really, the air up hereis too wonderful…’

He edged away. Gerard smiled a little. He looked again at Sarah. She was frowning—her facewas set in a youthful sternness. She looked, he thought, like a young judge delivering sentence…He turned as Miss Pierce tripped unsteadily towards him.

‘We are going down now,’ she fluttered. ‘Oh dear! I am sure I shall never manage it, but theguide says the way down is quite a different route and much easier. I do hope so, because from achild I never have been able to look down from heights…’

The descent was down the course of a waterfall. Although there were loose stones which were apossible source of danger to ankles, it presented no dizzy vistas³⁴.

The party arrived back at the camp weary but in good spirits and with an excellent appetite for alate lunch. It was past two o’clock.

The Boynton family was sitting round the big table in the marquee. They were just finishingtheir meal.

Lady Westholme addressed a gracious sentence to them in her most condescending³⁵ manner.

‘Really a most interesting morning,’ she said. ‘Petra is a wonderful spot.’

Carol, to whom the words seemed addressed, shot a quick look at her mother and murmured:

‘Oh, yes—yes, it is,’ and relapsed into silence.

Lady Westholme, feeling she had done her duty, addressed herself to her food.

As they ate, the four discussed plans for the afternoon.

‘I think I shall rest most of the afternoon,’ said Miss Pierce. ‘It is important, I think, not to dotoo much.’

‘I shall go for a walk and explore,’ said Sarah. ‘What about you, Dr Gerard?’

‘I will go with you.’

Mrs Boynton dropped a spoon with a ringing clatter³⁶ and everyone jumped.

‘I think,’ said Lady Westholme, ‘that I shall follow your example, Miss Pierce. Perhaps half anhour with a book, then I shall lie down and take an hour’s rest at least. After that, perhaps, a shortstroll.’

Slowly, with the help of Lennox, old Mrs Boynton struggled to her feet. She stood for amoment and then spoke³⁷.

‘You’d better all go for a walk this afternoon,’ she said with unexpected amiability³⁸.

It was, perhaps, slightly ludicrous to see the startled faces of her family.

‘But, Mother, what about you?’

‘I don’t need any of you. I like sitting alone with my book. Jinny had better not go. She’ll liedown and have a sleep.’

‘Mother, I’m not tired. I want to go with the others.’

‘You are tired. You’ve got a headache! You must be careful of yourself. Go and lie down andsleep. I know what’s best for you.’

‘I—I—’

Her head thrown back, the girl stared rebelliously³⁹. Then her eyes dropped—faltered…‘Silly child,’ said Mrs Boynton. ‘Go to your tent.’

She stumped⁴⁰ out of the marquee–the others followed.

‘Dear me,’ said Miss Pierce. ‘What very peculiar⁴¹ people. Such a very odd colour—the mother.

Quite purple. Heart, I should imagine. The heat must be very trying to her.’

Sarah thought: ‘She’s letting them go free this afternoon. She knows Raymond wants to be withme. Why? Is it a trap?’

After lunch, when she had gone to her tent and had changed into a fresh linen⁴² dress, the thoughtstill worried her. Since last night her feeling towards Raymond had swelled⁴³ into a passion ofprotective tenderness. This, then, was love—this agony on another’s behalf—this desire to avert,at all costs, pain from the beloved…Yes, she loved Raymond Boynton. It was St George and theDragon reversed. It was she who was the rescuer and Raymond who was the chained victim.

And Mrs Boynton was the Dragon. A dragon whose sudden amiability was, to Sarah’ssuspicious mind, definitely sinister⁴⁴.

It was about a quarter-past three when Sarah strolled down to the marquee.

Lady Westholme was sitting on a chair. Despite the heat of the day she was still wearing herserviceable Harris tweed skirt. On her lap was the report of a Royal Commission. Dr Gerard wastalking to Miss Pierce, who was standing by her tent holding a book entitled The Love Quest anddescribed on its wrapper as a thrilling tale of passion and misunderstanding.

‘I don’t think it’s wise to lie down too soon after lunch,’ explained Miss Pierce. ‘One’sdigestion, you know. Quite cool and pleasant in the shadow of the marquee. Oh dear, do you thinkthat old lady is wise to sit in the sun up there?’

They all looked at the ridge⁴⁵ in front of them. Mrs Boynton was sitting as she had sat last night, amotionless Buddha⁴⁶ in the door of her cave. There was no other human creature in sight. All thecamp personnel were asleep. A short distance away, following the line of the valley, a little groupof people walked together.

‘For once,’ said Dr Gerard, ‘the good Mamma permits them to enjoy themselves without her. Anew devilment on her part, perhaps?’

‘Do you know,’ said Sarah, ‘that’s just what I thought.’

‘What suspicious minds we have. Come, let us join the truants⁴⁷.’

Leaving Miss Pierce to her exciting reading, they set off. Once round the bend of the valley,they caught up the other party who were walking slowly. For once, the Boyntons looked happyand carefree.

Lennox and Nadine, Carol and Raymond, Mr Cope with a broad smile on his face and the lastarrivals, Gerard and Sarah, were soon all laughing and talking together.

A sudden wild hilarity⁴⁸ was born. In everyone’s mind was the feeling that this was a snatchedpleasure—a stolen joy to enjoy to the full. Sarah and Raymond did not draw apart. Instead, Sarahwalked with Carol and Lennox. Dr Gerard chatted to Raymond close behind them. Nadine andJefferson Cope walked a little apart.

It was the Frenchman who broke up the party. His words had been coming spasmodically forsome time. Suddenly he stopped.

‘A thousand excuses. I fear I must go back.’

Sarah looked at him. ‘Anything the matter?’

He nodded. ‘Yes, fever. It’s been coming on ever since lunch.’

Sarah scrutinized⁴⁹ him. ‘Malaria?’

‘Yes. I’ll go back and take quinine. Hope this won’t be a bad attack. It is a legacy⁵⁰ from a visit tothe Congo.’

‘Shall I come with you?’ asked Sarah.

‘No, no. I have my case of drugs with me. A confounded nuisance. Go on, all of you.’

He walked quickly back in the direction of the camp.

Sarah looked undecidedly after him for a minute, then she met Raymond’s eyes, smiled at him,and the Frenchman was forgotten.

For a time the six of them, Carol, herself, Lennox, Mr Cope, Nadine and Raymond, kepttogether.

Then, somehow or other, she and Raymond had drifted apart. They walked on, climbing uprocks, turning ledges⁵¹, and rested at last in a shady spot.

There was a silence—then Raymond said:

‘What’s your name? It’s King, I know. But your other name.’

‘Sarah.’

‘Sarah. May I call you that?’

‘Of course.’

‘Sarah, will you tell me something about yourself?’

Leaning back against the rocks, she talked, telling him of her life at home in Yorkshire, of herdogs and the aunt who had brought her up.

Then, in his turn, Raymond told her a little, disjointedly, of his own life.

After that there was a long silence. Their hands strayed together. They sat, like children, hand inhand, strangely content.

Then, as the sun grew lower, Raymond stirred.

‘I’m going back now,’ he said. ‘No, not with you. I want to go back by myself. There’ssomething I have to say and do. Once that’s done, once I’ve proved to myself that I’m not acoward—then—then—I shan’t be ashamed to come to you and ask you to help me. I shall needhelp, you know, I shall probably have to borrow money from you.’

Sarah smiled.

‘I’m glad you’re a realist. You can count on me.’

‘But first I’ve got to do this alone.’

‘Do what?’

The young boyish face grew suddenly stern. Raymond Boynton said: ‘I’ve got to prove mycourage. It’s now or never.’

Then, abruptly⁵², he turned and strode away.

Sarah leant back against the rock and watched his receding⁵³ figure. Something in his words hadvaguely alarmed her. He had seemed so intense—so terribly in earnest and strung up. For amoment she wished she had gone with him…

But she rebuked⁵⁴ herself sternly for that wish. Raymond had desired to stand alone, to test hisnew-found courage. That was his right.

But she prayed with all her heart that that courage would not fail…The sun was setting when Sarah came once more in sight of the camp. As she came nearer inthe dim light she could make out the grim figure of Mrs Boynton still sitting in the mouth of thecave. Sarah shivered a little at the sight of that grim, motionless figure…She hurried past on the path below and came into the lighted marquee.

Lady Westholme was sitting knitting a navy-blue jumper, a skein of wool hung round her neck.

Miss Pierce was embroidering⁵⁵ a table-mat with anaemic blue forget-me-nots, and being instructedon the proper reform of the Divorce Laws.

The servants came in and out preparing for the evening meal. The Boyntons were at the far endof the marquee in deck-chairs reading. Mahmoud appeared, fat and dignified⁵⁶, and was plaintivelyreproachful. Very nice after-tea ramble⁵⁷ had been arranged to take place, but everyone absent fromcamp… The programme was now entirely⁵⁸ thrown out… Very instructive visit to Nabataenarchitecture.

Sarah said hastily that they had all enjoyed themselves very much.

She went off to her tent to wash for supper. On the way back she paused by Dr Gerard’s tent,calling in a low voice: ‘Dr Gerard.’

There was no answer. She lifted the flap and looked in. The doctor was lying motionless on hisbed. Sarah withdrew noiselessly, hoping he was asleep.

A servant came to her and pointed⁵⁹ to the marquee. Evidently supper was ready. She strolleddown again. Everyone else was assembled there round the table with the exception of Dr Gerardand Mrs Boynton. A servant was dispatched to tell the old lady dinner was ready. Then there was asudden commotion⁶⁰ outside. Two frightened servants rushed in and spoke excitedly to thedragoman in Arabic.

Mahmoud looked round him in a flustered⁶¹ manner and went outside. On an impulse Sarahjoined him.

‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.

Mahmoud replied: ‘The old lady. Abdul says she is ill—cannot move.’

‘I’ll come and see.’

Sarah quickened her step. Following Mahmoud, she climbed the rock and walked along untilshe came to the squat⁶² figure in the chair, touched the puffy hand, felt for the pulse, bent⁶³ over her…When she straightened herself she was paler.

She retraced⁶⁴ her steps back to the marquee. In the doorway⁶⁵ she paused a minute looking at thegroup at the far end of the table. Her voice when she spoke sounded to herself brusque andunnatural.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. She forced herself to address the head of the family, Lennox. ‘Yourmother is dead, Mr Boynton.’

And curiously, as though from a great distance, she watched the faces of five people to whomthat announcement meant freedom…

 

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