I kept leaning over to urge the driver to go more quickly. “Effendim, I go as quick as I can,” he said. Clearly he thought I was mad and was weighing the danger to himself should he assist me in some rash action. When we reached the garrison, the driver was reluctant to let me get out of the carriage. “Turkish soldiers here. No place for you,” he said. When I handed him his money, he counted it twice, trusting me in nothing. I asked him to wait and he nodded, but he was already snapping the reins, anxious to be rid of the mad girl. By the time I reached the garrison entrance, the carriage was out of sight.
The garrison was a modest one, the barracks no more than a jumble of small stables and buildings. I chose a building whose windows were barred. I began to hurry—sure now that Graham was being held there, I was desperate to see him. I knocked on the door with so much force, I bruised my knuckles. An officer pulled the door open, startling me, and I saw it was the major who had carried Graham away. He was as taken aback as I was.
“I must see Mr. Geddes,” I insisted.
“Impossible. He goes to Alexandretta.”
“What will happen to him?”
“They will put him on a boat for Istanbul, nothing more.” He looked over his shoulder toward a dark hallway and then back at me. I thought I saw a glimmer of pity in his eyes. “Go away quickly; you will only make trouble for him.” As hard as it was to leave without seeing Graham, I believed the officer. If what they wished was merely to get Graham out of the country as quietly as possible, any disturbance I made would complicate things. With reluctance I allowed the major to guide me out of the building and find a carriage for me.
As the carriage was passing through the center of the city, I saw Monsieur Louvois sitting at a café. Immediately I shouted to the driver to stop. My voice was so frantic, when he reined in the horses it nearly upset us. Flinging coins his way, I jumped out into the street, where a little knot of men gathered to see what I would do next. When Monsieur Louvois looked up to find me at his table, he appeared pleased; then, as he read the anger on my face, he looked about him for some escape.
I stood over him, not caring who saw or heard me. “How could you do that to Graham?” I accused Louvois. “How could you betray him? He’s imprisoned in the garrison and they’re taking him to Istanbul. He might be shot as a spy!”
“Ma chère Julia, lower your voice. Everyone is looking at us. Whatever can you mean? I know nothing about Graham.”
“It’s perfectly obvious. You told the Turkish authorities that Graham was a member of the Young Turks so they would arrest him and let you go.”
“That is preposterous! For me it was just a matter of getting through to the French government. Monsieur Potton managed for me. My country acted at once.” Monsieur Louvois appeared genuinely shocked at my accusation.
“Why would the French government be so quick to help you when you’ve broken the laws of this country?”
“After what has happened, I believe I can tell you I am not altogether the fool you take me for. France is as interested in Syria as Britain is—and has a greater right to it. It is true that I collect antiquities, but I also keep an eye open for France, and in return my country helps with my collecting when help is needed. It is a useful partnership. Fortunately, their influence here is quite strong. But I see from your face you are not entirely surprised by my secret tasks. Perhaps your father guessed? He seems to have much information for a solicitor.”
“Yes. He knew you had some connection with the French government. But why did you hurry away from the consul’s house so quickly, and what are you doing here?”
“My transportation to Alexandretta does not leave until later today. I am just biding my time. I went away from Robinson’s because I felt embarrassed by what had happened: I had given everyone much trouble. But for your traitor you must look elsewhere.”
I believed him. “I’m sorry, Monsieur Louvois. I’ve made a mistake. I hope you get home safely.” All the way back I tried to tell myself that it must have been Mohammed, that it could not have been my father who had betrayed Graham—but I couldn’t be sure.
They were all waiting for me. “Where the devil did you go?” Father demanded.
“I went to see Graham,” I said. I was too exhausted for anything but the truth.
“That was a stupid and dangerous thing to do.” Father’s face was white, and a blue vein in his forehead throbbed.
Mr. Robinson greeted my story of Graham’s imminent departure for Alexandretta and Istanbul with little surprise. “They won’t want to deal with him here in Syria. In Istanbul the sultan’s men will hope to hear about his connections. I suspect he will tell them, for they can be very persuasive.”
My heart sank. They had deceived me at the garrison. Graham would be sent to Alexandretta and then Istanbul, only to meet with further imprisonment and torture.
Father, calmer now but still furious with me, said, “Julia, you were very foolish. They might have suspected you of having something to do with Geddes and taken you as well.”
Edith agreed. “Your father is quite right. You must stay away from Geddes; the man is a fool. There is no one more dangerous than someone who has set out to save the world.”
Mr. Robinson was slower to agree. “I quite see that this Geddes is foolish, but he doesn’t sound dangerous.”
“He’s not,” I said, relieved to have someone on Graham’s side. “And he’s not foolish, only determined. He has been risking his life to help others: This is not even his country.”
“That is exactly the point I was making,” Edith said.
“Julia, you are talking about things of which you are totally ignorant,” Father scolded me.
Mr. Robinson must have felt he was surrounded by a swarm of wasps. He announced, “Really, you must all calm down. I hope you won’t mind if I tag along to Alexandretta with you tomorrow. I have some business there with our vice-consul, and I may be of some use. In the meantime I can give you the name of a man who has excellent carriages for hire.” He reverted to his maternal tone. “Also, you must all be sure to take your quinine, three grains at the very least. Malaria is everywhere in Alexandretta. A dangerous city.”
I knew my father wanted to get me alone so he could have at me for trying to see Graham. To avoid that, I stayed on with Mr. Robinson and Edith, who got into a discussion of the flora of Aleppo. Finally, Father and Edith went off to their rooms, and Mr. Robinson and I were left to ourselves.
“You said my father had a private chat with the Turkish official when you saw him about Monsieur Louvois. Father could have betrayed Graham to get Louvois off and Graham out of the way.”
A raised eyebow was the only surprise Mr. Robinson showed at my accusation. After a moment he said, “In my early days with the Foreign Office in London, I seem to have heard of a Carlton Hamilton on the Arab Desk. I never met the man, but I believe he had something to do with scotching a request I had put in for a post in Morocco. I don’t suppose there is any connection between that man and your father?” I said nothing. “Well, of course I understand why someone from the Foreign Office would want to keep his identity quiet: Just now Turkey is not too fond of us Englishmen.”
The consul lowered his voice. “I wonder if your father doesn’t also disapprove of the amount of time you spend with Geddes?”
I looked away. “I don’t think Father would betray Graham for me, but he might for England.”
“I have tried to reason things out,” Mr. Robinson said. “First, your father was made ill in some way, and in that way the mukari Mohammed was exposed. Louvois was arrested and now Geddes has been betrayed. I think all of these things must be connected, but I can’t decide who among you would do such things. It’s most intriguing. For now you must get a good night’s sleep, and we’ll see what is to be done when we get to Alexandretta tomorrow.”
There was no sleep for thinking of Graham. Edith, hearing me toss and turn, sat up in bed and read in an instructive voice a verse from the Koran: “‘Of hi
s mercy God hath made for you the night that ye may rest….’” Toward dawn, with the raucous cry of ravens for a lullaby, I drifted off to an hour of restless sleep and nightmares of foundering ships.
XVII
ALEXANDRETTA
WE LEFT FOR ALEXANDRETTA in the morning. Father insisted that I be placed in his carriage. “I suppose you’re keeping an eye on me,” I accused him.
In an impatient voice Father said, “Since I am no longer able to imagine what you might do next, I have no alternative.” When Mr. Robinson joined us, a shadow of irritation passed over Father’s face, but ever the diplomat, he greeted the consul cordially. Saladin sat with the driver while Hakki and Edith traveled in a second carriage.
I twisted around to look at Antioch’s vanishing outline.
“Do you think they’ve already taken Graham to Alexandretta?” I asked Mr. Robinson. I hated the idea of leaving him behind in Antioch.
“Oh, they would have been off first thing this morning,” the consul said. “His guards would be anxious for a few extra hours in Alexandretta: It is a more exciting town than Antioch.”
It was a long day’s journey from Antioch to the sea. At first there were only hints of water: streams flowing into marshes and marshes fanning into deltas; then, as we made our way down the foothills, the Mediterranean stretched out in front of us, a blue dream after so many days of dusty dryness. There was a freshness in the air all the way to Alexandretta, where we found the harbor crowded with boats, caiques, and dhows in every shape and size, their sails flapping in the wind like a flock of jumbled birds.
“Odd as it may seem, when one thinks of the desert,” Mr. Robinson said, “the Arabs were once great sailors.”
It was one of his many attempts on the trip to make polite conversation. Like earlier attempts it was met with a polite “Quite” from Father and silence from me, for I was concentrating on the three steamers I saw anchored in the harbor.
Suddenly afraid, I asked Mr. Robinson, “I don’t suppose you have any idea when Graham’s boat will sail?”
“We consuls always know the schedules of the steamers. If they are taking Geddes to Istanbul, he will probably leave on the Poseidon, which sails tomorrow afternoon for Athens, with a stop on the way at Mersina in Turkey. Your own steamer sails for Istanbul the following day.”
The carriages pulled up in front of a hotel with patched brickwork and cracked window glass. When I had him alone for a moment, I asked my father, “Won’t you tell the Turkish authorities about your position with the Foreign Office? Surely you have enough influence to help Graham.”
“I can’t do that,” Father said. “I’m under orders. Divulging my identity would be a breach of security, although the Turks may soon know of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Geddes has been discreet up to now, but let’s see how he manages to keep secrets with the Turks asking questions.”
I thought this heartless. “But isn’t that all the more reason to get him away from the Turks, to keep him from exposing you? Surely you can do something.”
“I’ll see the British consul here in Alexandretta. If he appears trustworthy, I might say a word or two, but I must be convinced that my identity won’t get passed on to the Turks. If they had absolute knowledge of my connection with the Foreign Office and my mission here, they would come down on the Foreign Office in a way that would put England in an awkward position.”
I gave my father a hard look. “Better on England than Graham.”
Father appeared shocked.
Hakki arranged to have tea served in the hotel parlor, a dark room crowded with too much furniture and smelling of Turkish cigarettes. I sank down onto a lumpy chair and choked on the tea’s cloying blend of mint and sugar. I heard myself saying in an accusing voice, “I don’t know how we can sit here drinking tea like a lot of stupid British tourists when Graham is a prisoner.”
“But we are British tourists, my dear,” Father said.
Hakki, in a show of sympathy, passed me some sticky bits of pastry. To cover my misery, I nibbled one. It tasted of rosewater, and flakes of the pastry glued themselves to my fingers. As I reached for my napkin, I caught Mr. Robinson looking at me with so knowing a look that I flushed. It was a look that signaled conspiracy against my father. I guessed that the consul was at war with my father for his old grievance and was seeking to enlist me in that war.
Edith, who had been watching all of us with an amused look, pushed back her chair and got to her feet. “I for one intend to take a bit of a rest before I begin packing for the steamer.”
“There is no need to hurry with your packing,” Hakki said, eager to prolong his tea party, where everyone was under his eye. “Our luggage will not be collected until tomorrow evening.”
I went to my room pretending fatigue and was relieved to find I had a room to myself. I tried to think what I must do, for I had no faith in my father’s offer to help Graham. The walls in the hotel were thin, and Edith’s gentle wheezes coming from the next room distracted me so that I found myself waiting for each successive breath, as if a life depended on it. I wanted to concentrate on Graham, to think of a way to free him. Like the consul, I was beginning to be sure there was someone determined to do us harm.
There was a subdued knock at my door, and opening it, I found Mr. Robinson. Half watchful, half curious, the consul glanced around the room. “Forgive me for invading your quarters. I thought you might be interested to know that I had guessed correctly and Geddes is to sail on the Poseidon.”
“How did you find out?”
“I have friends in odd places here in Alexandretta.”
“Do you think my father can do anything for Graham?”
“I don’t know that he wishes to do anything. I tried to go along with him to the office of Alexandretta’s British consul and found that your father did not welcome my company. He disapproves of me. In spite of the fact that the consul, Haversham, is a friend of mine, your father indicated I would be a hindrance rather than a help, but I think it is more than that. At any rate, how far are you prepared to go to rescue your friend?”
“I would do anything.”
I saw that he believed me. “I have a rather spiteful desire to give your father trouble. I’ve seen too many of his kind in the Foreign Office: smug men who think they know what is best for the world. Mind you, I believe your friend Geddes, with his playing about with the Young Turks and his mad ideas of subverting the Ottoman Empire, is just as bothersome, but he didn’t strike me as being as arrogant and patronizing as your father. I hope you don’t mind my speaking of your father this way, but I’d rather like to foil his little plan, whatever that may be.” He gave me an impish wink.
Whatever my own doubts about my father, I did not like hearing those suspicions from someone else. It made me feel small and disloyal. “It couldn’t have been Father who betrayed Graham.”
“That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be delighted to take advantage of Geddes’s misfortune. Now I had best leave. I no longer hear Miss Phillips’s puffs and sputters, and we don’t want me seen sidling out of your room. I expect your father will be returning shortly, and we will make our plans after we hear from him.”
Edith opened her door to see Mr. Robinson leaving. She hurried into my room. She must have been a busy sleeper, for her hair stood out at odd angles.
“I hope Robinson wasn’t encouraging you to do anything foolish?” Edith said. “I’ve marked him as a mischiefmaker. You had best let Geddes be; I’m sure the Turks will turn him over to the British authorities once they get him to Istanbul.”
It was exactly what Father said later, when he returned and joined me on the hotel veranda. I had turned eagerly toward him. “What did you find out?”
“I had a most useful talk with Haversham, who is the British consul here. He has been in touch with Istanbul. Our people there will meet the Poseidon when it arrives and collect Geddes. There’s no point in your being concerned any further. I think Robi
nson was a little put out because I didn’t see fit to take him along; probably thought I was going over his head, but I can’t think Robinson is one of the Foreign Office favorites.”
I couldn’t help asking, “Will we see Graham when we get to Istanbul?”
“I shouldn’t count on it. Even though his ship sails tomorrow afternoon and ours doesn’t leave until the next morning, his ship, the Poseidon, has a twenty-four hour lay-over in Mersina.”
“I thought we were going to spend a few days in Istanbul.”
“I know I promised them to you, but I heard from Haversham there has been a little skirmish in Morocco that threatens to involve Spain and France, so I must get back to the Foreign Office. I seem to recall Robinson in his younger days wanting a post in Morocco. Lucky for Morocco I kept that from going through. The man is better off where he can’t do much harm.”
Father advised, “Put any worries about Geddes out of your head, Julia, and enjoy your last day in the Levant. I would, however, suggest you stay close to the hotel: This town is most unhealthy—leprosy in ancient times, malaria now, as you can see from the yellow complexion of the local citizenry.”
While Father went to dress for dinner, I remained on the hotel veranda looking out at the ring of hills circling the unhealthy town. A month before, I would have given years of my life to experience the view before me at that moment—the ancient town, the parade of exotically dressed people looking like an opera director’s fantasy, the mingled smells of jasmine and spices and other things not quite so pleasant. Now I could think only of Graham. I felt uneasy about my father’s reassurances. Although I did not believe he would purposely lie to me, I suspected he was keeping something back as one colors what one tells a child in proportion to what one thinks a child can understand.
I could not guess what Graham would do if he were released. When he returned to England and Oxford, would he think of me, or would he consider my world, as I was beginning to, pinched and dull? And how would I ever be able to return to that world of Durham Place?