Pascali's Island

I crossed the street and waited. After something like half an hour they emerged, shook hands briefly in the doorway, under the blue awning then went different ways, Mister Bowles towards the corner of the street, the other back towards the market. I watched him as he passed opposite to me. There was still some laughter in his face from "the meeting. I noticed his belt, very broad with a heavy brass buckle in the shape of a snake.

Mister Bowles hesitated for a moment or two at the corner, as if making up his mind which way to go. I moved quickly along the street towards him, and called his name. He turned, saw me, and stood there waiting. He did not smile.

'What happened to you last night?' I said. I was panting slightly with the haste of my movements.

'I was held up,' he said. 'You got my note, I suppose?'

'Listen,' I said, 'I must talk to you.'

He looked at me for a moment, then said, indifferently, 'All right, if you like. I've got to go and meet Lydia and Mrs Marchant in about an hour's time. Let's go over to the bar there.' It was the one he had just come out of, but he didn't mention that.

It was cool inside, with the blinds down against the sun. We asked for a bottle of beer and two glasses. 'Who was that man?' I said.

'Which man?'

'The one you were with just now. I saw you talking together.'

'Did you? Oh, he was just someone I bumped into. Mrs Marchant was telling us about that business in the church the other evening.' He looked curiously at me. 'Extraordinary,' he said.

'You mean Saint Alexei biting the dust?' I said. 'Yes, it was gruesome, his head went rolling down the steps. What nationality was he, by the way? The man you were talking to just now.'

'Oh, American, I think. She says you ran off and left her.'

'She was in no danger,' I said. 'None whatever.'

'And you were?'

'Didn't she tell you how they all turned on me and started making the curse sign at me? They blamed me for it, you know, the accident.'

He looked at me with a sort of faintly smiling curiosity. 'She says they were simply crossing themselves,' he said.

'Nonsense,' I said. 'They were about to attack me.'

Mister Bowles hitched his chair back, placed his right ankle over his left knee, and commenced a jigging motion with his shoe. This struck me as uncharacteristic of him, and made me more sharply aware of something I had sensed only half consciously since the begi

'Listen,' I said, 'you realise, don't you, that they will be absolutely furious with us about last night? They are dangerous people. We must get the thing finished today, this morning.'

Mister Bowles looked towards me without replying. His eyes were vague, remote, not really regarding me at all.

'We'll lose the money at this rate,' I said, a

He went on jigging his shoe for a moment or two, then he said, quite casually, 'I'd like to leave it for a day or two, old chap.'

'Leave it?' I said. I was bewildered. 'But why?'

'Well, you see, I haven't finished my research yet.'

'Your research? But, please listen to me, time is everything in the matter. They are certain to suspect something.'

'Suspect what?' he said, with assumed hauteur. 'Didn't I make it clear to them that I am writing a book?'

'I don't know,' I said. I was in despair, Excellency, close to tears. 'I don't remember. What if you did? What is your book to them?'

'You thought the whole thing was a fabrication, I suppose?'

Once again, in spite of everything between us, and everything I know, he had me in the thrall of his outraged honesty. 'Do you think,' he said, 'that I am going to let those people come between me and my research?'

My eyes were smarting with the effort to repress tears. My life, the money, everything falling away from me. 'Why did you not make this clear before?' I said.

Mister Bowles saw my distress, I think, for his ma

'What?' I said.

'You can give them my word of honour that I will not remove any of the treasures on the site.'

His word of honour. He looked at me, leaning forward still, with that engaging eagerness, which was his great charm. The sense he conveyed that we were partners in a great enterprise, something exciting and challenging and thoroughly worthwhile.

'But there are no treasures on the site,' I said.

'True, of course that's true.' He seemed momentarily disabled. 'But they don't know that,' he said, recovering. 'They don't know that, do they? It'll only take a couple of days, you know.'

'A couple of days,' I repeated dully.

'That's all.' He stood up. 'Must be getting along,' he said.

'The soldiers,' I said, 'have they been moved?'

'Oh yes,' he said. 'They're nowhere to be seen. Are you coming?'

'No, I don't think so.' I was not eager to meet Mrs Marchant again, and he knew it. He was smiling as he went out. My God, what am I to do? What am I to do, Excellency?

I went to see Doctor Hogan, the only person I could think of. Izzet caught me on the way back. It was only a question of time, I suppose. He was with another man.

Doctor Hogan's house is up above the town, on the hillside. It is a beautiful house, high-walled and shallow-roofed in the old island style, with an interior courtyard and a fountain. The poet Valaoritou is said to have lived for some years in this house. I do not go there too often and I never stay too long, because I value these visits, and the talks I have with Doctor Hogan. He is kindly and humorous and knows much about the island.

We sat in the courtyard for an hour or two, in the shade of the lemon trees, talking of general things. I asked for news of his children – he has a son at the English School at Bebek, and a married daughter in England.

It was pleasant there in the courtyard with the wisteria, and the dark lemon leaves, and the water playing. Maria, the doctor's wife, brought some sweet red Samos wine and fresh figs-the figs are ripening now, Excellency. Pleasant, yes, but I could not relax, my fears refused to leave me. The doctor's presence, the kindly irony of his glance, the amiable dishevelment he always exhibits, the order and tranquillity of his whole establishment; all this failed to have its usual calming effect.

However, I learned from the doctor the identity of the man Mister Bowles was with today. I described him – the thick body, the gaps in the teeth. 'That's Smith,' the doctor said at once. 'The American. He was here only a few days ago.'

'What, here in the house?'

'Yes, he brought one of his crew, an Italian. Fellow had cut his hand very badly.'

'That's the man with the caique, isn't it? The one who is fishing for sponges.'

'Yes, that's right.'

Here was a piece of news. Had their meeting been pla

'He's leaving soon, apparently,' the doctor said. 'Or so Lydia says. I looked in on her today and we gossiped a bit.'

How does Lydia know that, Excellency? Obviously she is in touch with the American. Or did Mister Smith tell Mister Bowles today that he was leaving, when they met in the bar? In that case Mister Bowles must have passed on the information to Lydia in the course of the afternoon.