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hard, guttural tongue that is always associated in my mind with flies and s
and. 'We go a different way. Is much better.' Yousif swung the Land-Rover ro
und, circling the gravel rise and approaching the palace from the rear throu
gh a litter of barastis, all apparently deserted. We stopped finally at a sm
all door with an iron-barred grille set in an otherwise blank wall.
Khalid's three men closed round me as I got out, and when I told Yousif I w
anted to be taken straight to Gorde. he said, 'You go with them now, sahib.
Sheikh Khalid's orders.' And he drove off, leaving me there.
Eyes peered at us through the grille. The door opened and I was hustled t
hrough the dark passages of the palace and up to my turret room. There my
three guards left me. and standing at the embrasure I looked down on wha t was
obviously a very explosive situation. The crowd was being harangued by a man
on a rooftop opposite, and another was shouting to them from th e back of a
camel. The whole square was packed solid. Every man and boy i n the oasis must
have been gathered there, and many of them were armed.
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Camels were being brought into the square and men were mounting on the out
skirts of the crowd. And all the time the agitators shouting and the crowd
roaring and the tension mounting. The air was thick with menace, and then
somebody fired a rifle.
The bullet smacked into the mud wall not far from my embrasure. It was all t
hat was needed to set that crowd alight. Other guns were fired, little spark s
of flame, a noise like fire-crackers, and a great shout; the crowd became
fluid, flowing like water, moving with the sudden purpose of a river in spat
e. Men leaped to their camels, mounting on the arch of their lowered necks,
driving them with the flood tide down the slope to the dark fringe of the da
te gardens.
In a moment the square was deserted, and with the murmur of the crowd dyin g
to silence, the dark walls of my room closed in on me. I had a sudden, o
verwhelming need then to find Gorde and the others, and I picked up my bri
efcase and felt my way down the black curve of the stairs. A light showed
faint in the passage at the bottom. A figure stirred in the shadows. Thick
Arabic words and the thrust of a gun muzzle in my stomach halted me. It w as
one of Khalid's men, and he was nervous, his finger on the trigger.
There was nothing for it but to retreat to my room again. In the mood prevai
ling in the oasis it was some comfort to know that I had a guard. I lay down
and tried to get some rest. The sound of the crowd was still faintly audibl e.
It came to me through the embrasure, soft as a breeze whispering through the
palm trees. And then it died and there was an unnatural quiet.
It didn't last long, for the shouting started again. Shots, too. It was a lo
ng way away. I got up and went to the embrasure, peering out at the empty sq
uare and the dark line of the palms shadowed by the moon. A glow lit the nig
ht sky to the east. It grew and blossomed. Then suddenly an explosion, a gre
at waft of flame and smoke beyond the date gardens. And after that silence,
the flame abruptly gone and the palms a dark shadow-line again in the moon's
light.
Voices called within the palace, the sound muffled by the thickness of mud w
alls, and then for a while it was quiet. But soon the crowd was ebbing back
into the square, flowing into it in little groups, silent now and strangely
subdued. I was sure that it was Gorde's plane I'd seen go up in smoke and fl
ame, and I stayed by the embrasure, watching the tide of humanity as it fill
ed the square, wondering what they'd do now - hoping to God their passions w
ere spent.
Bare feet sounded on the stairs. I turned, uncertain what to expect, my mo uth
suddenly dry. The beam of a torch probed the room, blinding me as it f astened
on my face. But it was only my three guards back again, jabbering
Arabic at me and gesturing for me to accompany them. I was hurried along d ark
passages, past gaping doorways where men sat huddled in dim-lit rooms, arguing
fiercely. The whole palace was in a ferment.
We came finally to a low-ceilinged room lit by a pressure lamp, and in its
harsh glare I saw Khalid sitting surrounded by robed figures. They were mos
tly young men and they had their guns resting across their knees or leaning
close at hand against the walls. He rose to greet me, his face unsmiling, the
bones sharp-etched in the lamplight. 'I am sorry, sir, for the disturba nce
you have been given.' A gesture of dismissal and the room quietly empti ed,
the conference broken up. 'Please to sit.' He waved me to a cushion on the
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carpeted floor and sat down opposite me, his legs folding neatly under him
with the ease of a man who has never known a chair.
'What happened?' I asked. 'Did they set fire to Gorde's plane?'
'Is a mistake. They are angry and they fire some bullets into it.' He was ve
ry tense, coiled up like a spring too tightly wound. Somewhere a child was c
rying, and I heard women's voices, soft and comforting. 'You 'ave been to se e
Haj Whitaker, is not so?' And when I nodded, he said, 'I understand you ar e
concerned in the management of his affairs?'
'His financial affairs.' I didn't want him to think I was responsible for an
ything that had happened out here. His manner, his whole bearing had changed
, the surface layer of a university education gone entirely. I glanced over my
shoulder. My three guards were still there, squatting in the open doorway.
Khalid was staring at me out of his dark eyes. The kohl had worn off. Lacki ng
that artificial lustre, his eyes looked sad and sombre. 'I have spoken w ith
my father. I understand now what it is Haj Whitaker try to do for Sarai fa.
Unfortunately I am not before tonight in my father's confidence.' And h e
added with a trace of bitterness, 'Better if he had told me. Better also if
Haj Whitaker explain to David what he is doing.' He paused there and I w as
conscious again of the strain he was under, of the tension building up i n
him. He leaned suddenly forward. "What will he do now?' he asked me. 'Now that
Meester Erk-hard don't honour the concession he sign. What will Haj W
hitaker do?'
'That's his affair,' I said. I didn't want to become involved in this.
'Please, Meester Grant. I must know.'
'I don't think he's made up his mind yet.'
He stared at me. 'Do you think he may leave Saraifa?'
And when I didn't answer, his eyes clouded and he seemed to sag. 'We have very
much need of him now,' he said quietly. 'He has the ear of many sheik hs, of
some of his own people also.' And he added, 'Since ever I am a smal l boy I
have known about this great man Haj Whitaker. I can remember the f east to
celebrate the original concession.
He was young then and full of fire. But always, always people here - my fat
her and myself also - we have looked to Haj Whitaker. He is known from the
Persian Gulf to the Hadhramaut, from Muscat on the Indian Sea to the waterh
oles of the Rub al Khali and the Liwa Oasis as a great man and the friend o f
all the Bedou. Particularly he is known as the friend of Sheikh Makhmud.
If he desert us now . . . '
'I'm sure he's no intention of deserting you.'
But he didn't seem to hear me, 'There must be some reconciliation. It is altog
ether vital.' He stared at me hard. 'Meester Grant. There is something I must
know. It is if I can trust you?'
That's up to you,' I said, wondering what was coming. And I added, 'I've bee n
virtually a prisoner since I returned from seeing Colonel Whitaker.'
He gave a quick, impatient shrug. 'Is for your own safety.'
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