Eight

NIGHT ALARM

It’s a little difficult to know exactly what to note in the week that followed my arrival at TellYarimjah.

Looking back as I do from my present standpoint of knowledge I can see a good many littlesigns and indications that I was quite blind to at the time.

To tell the story properly, however, I think I ought to try to recapture the point of view that Iactually held—puzzled, uneasy and increasingly conscious of something wrong.

For one thing was certain, that curious sense of strain and constraint¹ was not imagined. It wasgenuine. Even Bill Coleman the insensitive commented upon it.

“This place gets under my skin,” I heard him say. “Are they always such a glum² lot?”

It was David Emmott to whom he spoke³, the other assistant. I had taken rather a fancy toMr.?Emmott, his taciturnity was not, I felt sure, unfriendly. There was something about him thatseemed very steadfast⁴ and reassuring⁵ in an atmosphere where one was uncertain what anyone wasfeeling or thinking.

“No,” he said in answer to Mr.?Coleman. “It wasn’t like this last year.”

But he didn’t enlarge on the theme, or say any more.

“What I can’t make out is what it’s all about,” said Mr.?Coleman in an aggrieved⁶ voice.

Emmott shrugged⁷ his shoulders but didn’t answer.

I had a rather enlightening conversation with Miss?Johnson. I liked her very much. She wascapable, practical and intelligent. She had, it was quite obvious, a distinct hero worship forDr.?Leidner.

On this occasion she told me the story of his life since his young days. She knew every site hehad dug, and the results of the dig. I would almost dare swear she could quote from every lecturehe had ever delivered. She considered him, she told me, quite the finest field archaeologist living.

“And he’s so simple. So completely unworldly. He doesn’t know the meaning of the wordconceit. Only a really great man could be so simple.”

“That’s true enough,” I said. “Big people don’t need to throw their weight about.”

“And he’s so light-hearted too, I can’t tell you what fun we used to have—he and RichardCarey and I—the first years we were out here. We were such a happy party. Richard Carey workedwith him in Palestine, of course. Theirs is a friendship of ten years or so. Oh, well, I’ve known himfor seven.”

“What a handsome man Mr.?Carey is,” I said.

“Yes—I suppose he is.”

She said it rather curtly⁸.

“But he’s just a little bit quiet, don’t you think?”

“He usedn’t to be like that,” said Miss?Johnson quickly. “It’s only since—”

She stopped abruptly⁹.

“Only since—?” I prompted.

“Oh, well.” Miss?Johnson gave a characteristic motion of her shoulders. “A good many thingsare changed nowadays.”

I didn’t answer. I hoped she would go on—and she did—prefacing her remarks with a littlelaugh as though to detract from their importance.

“I’m afraid I’m rather a conservative old fogy. I sometimes think that if an archaeologist’swife isn’t really interested, it would be wiser for her not to accompany the expedition. It oftenleads to friction¹⁰.”

“Mrs.?Mercado—” I suggested.

“Oh, her!” Miss?Johnson brushed the suggestion aside. “I was really thinking ofMrs.?Leidner. She’s a very charming woman—and one can quite understand why Dr.?Leidner ‘fellfor her’—to use a slang term. But I can’t help feeling she’s out of place here. She—it unsettlesthings.”

So Miss?Johnson agreed with Mrs.?Kelsey that it was Mrs.?Leidner who was responsible forthe strained atmosphere. But then where did Mrs.?Leidner’s own nervous fears come in?

“It unsettles him,” said Miss?Johnson earnestly. “Of course I’m—well, I’m like a faithful butjealous old dog. I don’t like to see him so worn out and worried. His whole mind ought to be onthe work—not taken up with his wife and her silly fears! If she’s nervous of coming to out-of-the-way places, she ought to have stayed in America. I’ve no patience with people who come to aplace and then do nothing but grouse¹¹ about it!”

And then, a little fearful of having said more than she meant to say, she went on: “Of course Iadmire her very much. She’s a lovely woman and she’s got great charm of manner when shechooses.”

And there the subject dropped.

I thought to myself that it was always the same way—wherever women are cooped uptogether, there’s bound to be jealousy¹². Miss?Johnson clearly didn’t like her chief ’s wife (that wasperhaps natural) and unless I was much mistaken Mrs.?Mercado fairly hated?her.

Another person who didn’t like Mrs.?Leidner was Sheila Reilly. She came out once or twiceto the dig, once in a car and twice with some young man on a horse—on two horses I mean, ofcourse. It was at the back of my mind that she had a weakness for the silent young American,Emmott. When he was on duty at the dig she used to stay talking to him, and I thought, too, that headmired her.

One day, rather injudiciously, I thought, Mrs.?Leidner commented upon it at lunch.

“The Reilly girl is still hunting David down,” she said with a little laugh. “Poor David, shechases you up on the dig even! How foolish girls are!”

Mr.?Emmott didn’t answer, but under his tan his face got rather red. He raised his eyes andlooked right into hers with a very curious expression—a straight, steady glance with something ofa challenge in it.

She smiled very faintly and looked away.

I heard Father Lavigny murmur¹³ something, but when I said “Pardon?” he merely shook hishead and did not repeat his remark.

That afternoon Mr.?Coleman said to me: “Matter of fact I didn’t like Mrs.?L. any too much atfirst. She used to jump down my throat every time I opened my mouth. But I’ve begun tounderstand her better now. She’s one of the kindest women I’ve ever met. You find yourselftelling her all the foolish scrapes you ever got into before you know where you are. She’s got herknife into Sheila Reilly, I know, but then Sheila’s been damned rude to her once or twice. That’sthe worst of Sheila—she’s got no manners. And a temper like the devil!”

That I could well believe. Dr.?Reilly spoilt her.

“Of course she’s bound to get a bit full of herself, being the only young woman in the place.

But that doesn’t excuse her talking to Mrs.?Leidner as though Mrs.?Leidner were her great-aunt.

Mrs.?L.’s not exactly a chicken, but she’s a damned good-looking woman. Rather like those fairywomen who come out of marshes¹⁴ with lights and lure¹⁵ you away.” He added bitterly, “Youwouldn’t find Sheila luring¹⁶ anyone. All she does is to tick a fellow off.”

I only remember two other incidents of any kind of significance.

One was when I went to the laboratory to fetch some acetone to get the stickiness off myfingers from mending the pottery¹⁷. Mr.?Mercado was sitting in a corner, his head was laid down onhis arms and I fancied he was asleep. I took the bottle I wanted and went off with it.

That evening, to my great surprise, Mrs.?Mercado tackled me.

“Did you take a bottle of acetone from the lab?”

“Yes,” I said. “I did.”

“You know perfectly¹⁸ well that there’s a small bottle always kept in the antika room.”

She spoke quite angrily.

“Is there? I didn’t know.”

“I think you did! You just wanted to come spying round. I know what hospital nurses are.”

I stared at her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mrs.?Mercado,” I said with dignity. “I’m sure Idon’t want to spy on anyone.”

“Oh, no! Of course not. Do you think I don’t know what you’re here for?”

Really, for a minute or two I thought she must have been drinking. I went away withoutsaying any more. But I thought it was very odd.

The other thing was nothing very much. I was trying to entice¹⁹ a pi dog pup with a piece ofbread. It was very timid, however, like all Arab dogs—and was convinced I meant no good. Itslunk away and I followed it—out through the archway and round the corner of the house. I cameround so sharply that before I knew I had cannoned²⁰ into Father Lavigny and another man whowere standing²¹ together — and in a minute I realized that the second man was the same oneMrs.?Leidner and I had noticed that day trying to peer through the window.

I apologized and Father Lavigny smiled, and with a word of farewell greeting to the otherman he returned to the house with?me.

“You know,” he said. “I am very ashamed. I am a student of Oriental languages and none ofthe men on the work can understand me! It is humiliating, do you not think? I was trying myArabic on that man, who is a townsman, to see if I got on better — but it still wasn’t verysuccessful. Leidner says my Arabic is too pure.”

That was all. But it just passed through my head that it was odd the same man should still behanging round the house.

That night we had a scare.

It must have been about two in the morning. I’m a light sleeper²², as most nurses have to be. Iwas awake and sitting up in bed by the time that my door opened.

“Nurse, nurse!”

It was Mrs.?Leidner’s voice, low and urgent.

I struck a match and lighted the candle.

She was standing by the door in a long blue dressing²³ gown. She was looking petrified²⁴ withterror.

“There’s someone—someone—in the room next to mine .?.?. I heard him—scratching on thewall.”

I jumped out of bed and came to her.

“It’s all right,” I said. “I’m here. Don’t be afraid, my dear.”

She whispered: “Get Eric.”

I nodded and ran out and knocked on his door. In a minute he was with us. Mrs.?Leidner wassitting on my bed, her breath coming in great gasps²⁵.

“I heard him,” she said. “I heard him—scratching on the wall.”

“Someone in the antika room?” cried Dr.?Leidner.

He ran out quickly—and it just flashed across my mind how differently these two had reacted.

Mrs.?Leidner’s fear was entirely²⁶ personal, but Dr.?Leidner’s mind leaped at once to his precioustreasures.

“The antika room!” breathed Mrs.?Leidner. “Of course! How stupid of me!”

And rising and pulling her gown round her, she bade me come with her. All traces of herpanic-stricken fear had vanished.

We arrived in the antika room to find Dr.?Leidner and Father Lavigny. The latter had alsoheard a noise, had risen to investigate, and had fancied he saw a light in the antika room. He haddelayed to put on slippers²⁷ and snatch up a torch and had found no one by the time he got there.

The door, moreover, was duly locked, as it was supposed to be at night.

Whilst he was assuring himself that nothing had been taken, Dr.?Leidner had joined him.

Nothing more was to be learned. The outside archway door was locked. The guard sworenobody could have got in from outside, but as they had probably been fast asleep this was notconclusive. There were no marks or traces of an intruder and nothing had been taken.

It was possible that what had alarmed Mrs.?Leidner was the noise made by Father Lavignytaking down boxes from the shelves to assure himself that all was in order.

On the other hand, Father Lavigny himself was positive that he had (a) heard footstepspassing his window and (b) seen the flicker²⁸ of a light, possibly a torch, in the antika room.

Nobody else had heard or seen anything.

The incident is of value in my narrative²⁹ because it led to Mrs.?Leidner’s unburdening herselfto me on the following day.

 

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