Appleby on Ararat (17 page)

“To be sure.” The man had recovered himself, and his next chuckle was genuine. “How easy it is to find convincing examples when one’s basic position is sound. I shall no doubt be a convincing example myself one day of this futile endeavour to build a paradise beneath the moon – or some golden hours amid an age of lead.”

“Ah,” said Appleby, “you’re coming nearer to it now. The man who sought gold and found lead. Put it something like that.”

Colonel Glover and the person called Jenner were still arguing; they had come into view together on the veranda just as Heaven slipped away. Perhaps Glover was doing most of the talking; and certainly as they came up Jenner could be seen glancing with some anxiety at his watch. Diana nudged Appleby. “John, if you want another learned and friendly chat here’s a suitable victim.”

“No. What I want this time is to find out whether I’ve been unmasked.”

“I don’t understand you a bit. Your intentions were much more – more lucid earlier on.”

Appleby chuckled irreverently. “That was in our days of
dolce far niente.”

“And this time, I suppose, you’ll put the important bits into Greek.”

“That is one possibility.”

Diana tossed her head. “What
do
you mean?”

“Well, I think Heaven is nosing after something in which he fancies the important bits are in Spanish. And perhaps we – Ah, Colonel, good evening. Mrs Kittery and I are arguing about the dog.”

“Dog? Well, there’s a great deal of good arguing in dogs. Eh, Jenner? Opinions differ, you know. Spaniels now…often difficult to find common ground.” Glover shook a dubious head.

“Very true, colonel.” Jenner was an ill-looking person who spoke with unexpected breeding and precision. “Not that I am a dog man, I am afraid.” He turned politely to Diana. “Are you–?”

“No, I’m not a dog man either. I mean, not a–” Caught by some interesting linguistic possibility, Diana disconcertingly laughed. “But we
weren’t
–”

“We were speaking,” said Appleby, “of the dog called George. Mrs Kittery is not agreed that he is a nice dog.” He turned to Jenner. “What do you think?”

“George? I kicked him.” Again Jenner looked at his watch – this time with the frankest anxiety. “I think, if you will excuse me–” He bowed and vanished.

Appleby sighed gently. “Diana, what was that: Spanish or Greek?”

Diana shook her head glumly. “I think you must be going dippy.”

“A sort of bald and unimaginative efficiency: where would you attribute that as a national characteristic?”

Diana was silent. Glover, who had been staring after Jenner, turned to Appleby. “As a national characteristic? Why, I should say–”

“Exactly.”

It was characteristic of the Hermitage guests that they were subject at times to a species of endemic gloom. The trouble was that a Good Time is not really possible; all that can be achieved by the most determined pursuit is a series of Good Times with gaps in between; and on the island these gaps – should one fail to skip them successfully – were apt to widen into yawning crevasses of boredom or nervous unease.

Something of the sort, Appleby thought as he returned to the lounge, must have happened now. There was an indefinable tension in the air. The Younger Crush were looking dispirited – indeed, almost squashed; among the older people there was a tendency to abstraction – and subsequent recrimination – as they sat over their cards. Mr Hoppo was still in attendance upon Miss Busst, but whereas at dinner he had appeared cheerful he was now unmistakably glum. Appleby went over and sat down between them. “I’ve been outside,” he said. “A pleasant night with a wisp of moon coming up.”

“A new moon?” asked Miss Busst, and began to rummage in a little embroidered bag. “I can never tell.”

Hoppo roused himself from an unwontedly reflective state. “Fair moon,” he said, “we place no faith in you, because your tales are never true; you are not crescent when a C, nor yet declining when a D.” He giggled half-heartedly. “A useful rhyme. But will it be the same in the southern hemisphere? I really don’t know.”

“Well,” said Miss Busst, “just in
case
–” And she turned over some money in her bag. “It’s stupid, of course, and I don’t really believe in anything of that sort. But somehow tonight – I wonder who heard of it first?”

Appleby looked up idly. “Heard of it? There is some bad news?”

Miss Busst nodded solemnly. Hoppo cleared his throat. “Of course,” he said huskily, “it may be a false alarm. Apparently there has never been any suggestion of the sort before. But they say –
somebody
says…well, the savages.”

“Ah,” murmured Appleby, “the savages.”

“I consider it very careless of the Heavens,” said Miss Busst with sudden plain anger, “–very careless indeed. There was no mention of anything of the sort in the prospectus. It is perfectly scandalous. Of course there was a sort of Hawaiian girl on the cover – dressed in grasses, and that sort of thing. But it was understood that the intention was merely to catch the eye of possible guests, male guests. That there really were disagreeable natives anywhere near was never hinted at. No one thought that the island would be inconveniently placed in that way. I think the Heavens should be compelled to move.”

“But are they near?” asked Appleby. “One doesn’t seem to be able to get any accurate geographical information at all.”

Hoppo glanced uneasily about the room. “They say – they say that
somebody
says – that there is an island with very unpleasant people about a hundred miles off. And then half-way to here there is a fishing-ground. They go there in big canoes. And if that isn’t a success, if – well, if they fail to get provisions that way, then sometimes they go farther afield. That explains our own adventure. And now there is a rumour–”

“Ah,” said Appleby again.

“A great many guests,” said Miss Busst, “agree that the Heavens should be compelled to move the hotel. Mr Rumsby is going to speak about it. With this dreadful war one’s nerves are not in a state to be played upon in that way.”

Appleby nodded. “I can see the possibility of a move having great advantages. Only I suspect that it is too late. You see, if the Heavens were going to move they would have to be capable of moving. But I see Miss Curricle beckoning. Will you excuse me?”

He crossed the room. Miss Curricle, exceedingly upright and angular, led him out once more to a veranda. “Mr Appleby, there is every sign of a panic.” She spoke with all of a hotel’s sudden and pervading gloom – but at the same time with a certain dark satisfaction, as some literary satanist might speak of a horrid creation of his own. “It is exceedingly disgraceful and disagreeable. With the people at the bungalow we must muster a dozen able-bodied men. And surely somewhere there are firearms. Yet, at a rumour of those cowardly savages–”

“About the rumour – have you any idea where it started? It has sprung up uncommonly quick.” Appleby was staring into the darkness as he spoke.

“Nobody seems to know. And the Heavens cannot be found… Listen.”

Appleby shook his head. “No good listening. Half the life on an island like this is nocturnal, and if one really listens one hears enough to make one’s blood freeze. Which is scarcely what is wanted.”

“I really thought I heard something like wary movement on the edge of the clearing.”

“It is very likely. We are probably going to witness some rather terrible events. But I believe that there is, at present, no general danger. It depends, I am afraid, on whether, not so long ago, I sailed rather close to the wind.”

“Mr Appleby, you speak strangely. Perhaps I ought to say that I have confidence in you.” Miss Curricle spoke with a faintly embarrassed briskness. “I am aware that when I was – ah – seeing matters in a somewhat faulty perspective during our adventures you behaved in a very level-headed way. Your manner is somewhat mysterious, but that is professional habit, no doubt. My dear father, who held a post of much responsibility in the civil service, carried discretion almost to a fault.” Miss Curricle paused decently on this. She might be hearing alarming noises in the darkness, but she was not going to hurry over one of these periodical tributes. “I must say that I have become aware – and the others of our party agree with me – that there is something strange about the way of things here on the island. It is clear that you share this view. I wonder if you could tell me what you know? Incidentally” – Miss Curricle’s voice was perfectly level – “I have just seen a naked figure near Mudge’s hut. As it happens, I have a good eye in the dark. My dear mother had the same faculty… But nothing, of course, which you think it desirable to keep to yourself.”

“I can’t tell you much.” Appleby was looking at the little glow of light in Mr Heaven’s power-house. “For one thing I am very much in the dark – a dark I ought to have an eye like yours for – still, at the moment the dark.” He paused. “But I know or suspect something, and a little time ago I was afraid I had given it away. Now I believe there is a good chance I didn’t. The indiscretion is making me very close now. But I can tell you this. Heaven is a somewhat disreputable person, who sees all human activity in terms of grab. And this led him to suspect that Hailstone and Dunchue over there were not after what they professed… You were right, by the way. I can see a couple of lurking figures myself. And here is Hoppo. Hoppo, go in and bring Glover and Mrs Kittery here; we’ll stay together.” Appleby looked absently for a moment after the surprised and retreating clergyman. Then he went on. “Heaven was so convinced that those first explorers of the island were frauds that he did a little quiet burglary.”

“I am not surprised.” Miss Curricle was tart. “No doubt we owe a certain gratitude for the sanctuary we have found, but I must say that I disapprove of this hotel very strongly. There is a man creeping round the corner of the veranda. Very strongly indeed.”

“Heaven burgled Hailstone” – Appleby was now speaking to the little group of his companions – “and found something. Or so I conjecture. But this, by the way, is absolutely confidential. You understand me? Our lives may depend on it – and more than our lives.”

Hoppo coughed. “This is most dramatic and startling. One should really feel uncommonly alarmed. But I believe one grows accustomed to fantastic dangers. I confess that at the moment curiosity is my chief emotion. As you know, I am not a courageous person. I am quite surprised.”

“My dear fellow” – Glover spoke gruffly – “we have great confidence in you. And now let Appleby go on. Heaven burgled something. Now, burgled what…? Good gad, there’s a nigger with one of those spears.”

“Let him alone. And just what Heaven burgled I can’t tell. But I imagine it may have been an old Spanish chart – something like that. And that marked on it is a spot where you may dig up any amount of doubloons and pieces of eight.”

“The wagon!” exclaimed Diana.

“Quite so: the barrow. Heaven found this chart, and during a curious little picnic this morning he deliberately revealed the fact to our archaeological friends – which was a great mistake. That is all that I can tell you at the moment – and more, I repeat, than you must tell anyone else. The sequel is going to be violent… Ah!”

From across the clearing before them there had come a crash of splintered glass, and seconds later the little light vanished from the power-house. They swung round where they stood. The hotel was in darkness too.

“I suggest,” said Appleby, “staying where we are. If we move we shall be encouraged to keep on moving – which would be rather a waste of physical effort on this debilitating island.” There was a sudden scream from within the hotel. “I think that is Miss Busst faced with another Good Time. Presumably a frightful savage has climbed through her window. And there” – momentarily he flashed a torch on a bellowing figure bounding across the veranda and down a flight of steps – “there is Rumsby. Perhaps he has gone to fetch the police. Steady, now” – he raised his voice against a sudden pandemonium of howling voices and beating drums all about them – “and remember we have had all this before. It is possible that they will burn down the hotel, but on the whole I think not.… Look out.”

There was a sound of rending wood and splintering glass behind them as the frame of a window gave way from within. A figure tumbled through, picked itself up and ran – a brown and naked figure; it was followed by Sir Mervyn Poulish brandishing what appeared to be the leg of a chair. And Appleby laughed aloud above the tumult. “My heart warms towards that profoundly dishonest man.” He checked himself. “Tomfoolery. But with tragedy at the core of it, I am sorry to say.”

Dawn came luridly to the island, as if Sin and Death had thrown back their doors and admitted some reflection of the eternal bonfire to the sky. At least the elements were preparing a demonstration – and Miss Busst, not without hints of the hand of Providence, thought it likely that the retreating savages would be scattered about the deeps. For over what had happened Miss Busst was bitterest of all. She had been assaulted by a gigantic native: he had pranced round her howling, that was to say, and before making off had seemed almost disposed to tweak her nose. Mr Heaven would abundantly have heard about it if Mr Heaven had not been dead.

The finding of the body was announced by Dunchue, who explained that its discovery was the first intimation of the raid that the bungalow had received. For he and Hailstone had gone off camping for the night – each admitted to a faint interest in nocturnal turtle-hunting – and it was as they returned that some excitement on the part of George led to the discovery of the dead man among the sandhills. Whereupon they had left one of their boys on guard and hurried to the hotel. Dunchue, having less leisure in his soul, arrived considerably in advance.

He found an Appleby who was doing his best hastily to fortify the place against a second night raid. Windows were being barricaded and buckets of sand and water prepared against any attempt to employ fire. It would be useless, Appleby explained, against an enemy armed with any species of guns. But against these noisy but not very courageous natives it might do. Mudge was preparing some harmless – but it was hoped frightening – grenades.