elizabethpeters.thegoldenone-第62部分

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dmiring　the　fine　old　mosques　and　making　a　brief；　informal　survey　of　the　ancient　remains；　since　he　knew　his　father　would　expect　one。　There　weren't　many。　For　almost　four　thousand　years　the　area　between　the　Sinai　and　the　Euphrates　had　been　fought　over；　conquered　and　reconquered；　destroyed　and　rebuilt。　Egyptians；　Assyrians；　Phoenicians；　Greeks；　Romans；　Saracens；　and　Crusaders　had　occupied　Gaza　in　turn。　It　had　been　one　of　the　five　cities　of　the　Philistines；　the　site　of　the　great　temple　of　Dagon；　pulled　down　by　Samson　in　his　last　and　mightiest　feat。　（He'd　got　that　information　from　his　mother；　his　father　didn't　give　much　credence　to　anything　in　Scripture　unless　it　could　be　confirmed　by　archaeological　sources。）　The　most　recent　conquest　had　been　by　the　Ottoman　Sultan；　Selim　the　First；　in　the　sixteenth　century；　in　revenge　for　the　city's　stubborn　resistance　he　had　let　his　troops　sack　and　destroy　a　large　part　of　it。　However；　by　1912　Gaza　had　bee　a　prosperous　town　with　almost　forty　thousand　inhabitants。　The　population　had　spilled　out　beyond　the　walls；　to　north　and　south　and　east；　the　central　city；　raised　on　the　accumulated　debris　of　various　levels　of　destruction；　contained　the　administrative　and　mercial　buildings；　as　well　as　the　homes　of　wealthier　citizens。
　On　the　hill　that　rose　from　the　center　of　the　upper　town　stood　the　Great　Mosque；　formerly　a　Christian　church　built　in　the　twelfth　century。　He　had　spent　an　enjoyable　afternoon　admiring　the　carvings　and　the　magnificent　gray　marble　columns。　It　was　now　being　used　as　a　powder　magazine。
　So　much　for　the　Great　Mosque；　Ramses　thought。　So　much　for　the　other　architectural　treasures　of　Gaza　…　the　little　church　of　St。　Porphyry；　an　exquisite　example　of　early　Christian　architecture；　the　beautiful　ancient　mosque　of　Hashim；　even　the　remains　of　the　old　walls　and　their　seven　gates。　Modern　weapons　were　much　more　efficient　than　the　older　variety。　One　well…placed　shell　and　the　Great　Mosque；　with　its　delicate　octagonal　minaret；　would　be　gone。
　And　so　would　hundreds；　maybe　thousands；　of　people。
　The　suk　appeared　to　be　as　prosperous　as　ever；　with　stalls　selling　everything　from　handmade　lace　and　the　fine　black　pottery　of　the　region　to　a　variety　of　mouthwatering　fruits　and　nuts　and　vegetables；　whose　discarded　rinds　and　husks　littered　the　ground。　Ramses　found　a　popular　café；　squatted　genteelly；　and　ordered　mint　tea。　The　habitués　were　an　inquisitive　lot；　they　put　him　through　a　merciless　but　friendly　interrogation；　not　leaving　off　until　they　had　determined　his　name；　place　of　origin；　business；　and　ancestry；　and　had　miserated　with　him　on　the　condition　of　his　poor　young　brother。　〃He　has　blue　eyes；〃　said　one　observant　man。
　〃His　mother　was　Circassian；〃　Ramses　explained。　〃My　father's　favorite；　until　she　died　giving　birth　to　him。　My　mother　。　。　。〃
　It　did　not　take　long　for　Ramses　to　establish　his　bona　fides　as　a　seller　of　desirable　merchandise。　The　town　was　full　of　men　in　uniform；　strutting　through　the　street　with　the　arrogance　of　Europeans　among　natives。　The　most　loquacious　of　their　newfound　friends；　a　middle…aged　man　with　only　one　eye　and　a　stump　where　his　right　hand　had　been；　had　a　few　pungent　epithets　for　the　Germans。　〃But；〃　he　added；　〃they　are　no　worse　than　the　Turks。　God　curse　this　war！　Whoever　wins　we　will　be　the　losers。　If　Gaza　is　defended；　our　homes　and　livelihoods　will　be　destroyed。〃
　It　was　a　good　opening；　and　Ramses　took　advantage　of　it。　His　questions　and　ments　brought　out　a　spate　of　information；　much　of　it　highly　inaccurate；　and　some　more　accurate　descriptions　of　various　public　figures。　Von　Kressenstein；　the　German　mander；　was　feared　but　respected；　the　governor　was　feared　and　loathed；　the　Turkish　general　was　a　fat　pig　who　did　nothing　but　sit　in　his　fine　house　and　eat。　And　so　it　went；　until　dusk　grayed　the　sky　and　the　party　dispersed。
　Ramses　and　Chetwode　spent　the　night　in　the　picturesque　ruins　of　what　was　locally　known　as　Samson's　tomb　…　actually　a　structure　dating　from　the　Middle　Ages。　Moonlight　filtering　through　the　broken　walls　and　roof　made　baroque　patterns　on　the　ground；　and　the　leaves　of　the　ancient　olive　trees　rustled　in　the　night　wind。　As　they　ate　the　food　purchased　in　the　bazaar；　Chetwode　enlivened　the　meal　with　questions。　He　hadn't　had　a　chance　to　talk　all　day；　and　it　must　be　wearing　on　him。
　〃You　didn't　ask　about　Ismail　Pasha；〃　he　said　accusingly。
　〃One　tries　to　avoid　asking　direct　questions。〃　Ramses　tossed　away　a　handful　of　orange　peel　and　stretched　out　on　the　ground。　〃In　this　case　it　wasn't　necessary。　You　were　there；　didn't　you　hear　what　they　said　about　him？〃
　〃Everybody　was　talking　too　fast；〃　Chetwode　said　sullenly。　〃Anyhow；　it's　your　job　to　locate　the　fellow。〃
　The　hero　worship　was　wearing　thin。　Ramses　couldn't　have　said　why　he　was　reluctant　to　share　this　bit　of　news；　old　habit；　perhaps；　or　one　of　the　Secret　Service's　basic　rules：　Don't　tell　anyone　more　than　he　needs　to　know。　Maybe　Chetwode　did　need　to　know　this；　if　only　to　keep　him　from　doing　something　impulsive。
　〃The　holy　infidel；　as　they　call　him；　is　going　to　pray　at　the　mosque　of　Hashim　tomorrow　at　midday；〃　Ramses　explained。　〃There　will　be　quite　a　crowd；　I　expect。　We'll　go　early　and　find　a　place　where　we　can　get　a　good　long　look　at　him。〃
　〃And　then？〃
　〃Then　we　make　a　quick　and；　let　us　hope；　unobtrusive　exit　from　Gaza。〃
　〃After　only　two　days？　Without　…　without　doing　anything？〃
　Ramses　tried　to　hold　on　to　his　temper。　Being　responsible　for　this　ingenuous　youth　was　nerve…racking　enough　without　having　to　deliver　lectures　on　espionage。　〃You　hadn't　planned　on　an　indefinite　stay；　had　you？　We　have　to　assume　that　there　are　certain　people　here　who　keep　tabs　on　newers。　One　of　our　amiable　acquaintances　at　the　coffeeshop　could　be　an　agent　of　the　governor　or　the　military。〃
　〃Really？〃
　〃That's　how　the　Turks　operate。　They　don't　trust　anyone；　and　with　good　reason。　They　aren't　well　liked　in　these　parts。　Sooner　or　later　our　presence　will　be　known；　and　some　bright　soul　may　decide　it　would　be　a　good　idea　to　question　us。　Then　there　are　the　press　gangs。　They're　always　looking　for　recruits。　One　more　day　is　all　we　can　risk。〃　He　yawned　and　wondered　why　he　was　bothering。　〃Get　some　rest。〃
　〃As　soon　as　I　finish　this。〃
　Ramses　sat　up　with　a　start。　Chetwode　squatted　by　the　ruined　arch　of　the　entrance；　scribbling　busily　by　moonlight　on　what　appeared　to　be　a　folded　piece　of　paper。　〃What　the　hell　are　you　doing？〃
　〃Making　notes。　I　didn't　recognize　all　the　insignia　of　the　men　we　saw；　but　if　I　describe　them；　our　people　can　get　a　good　idea　which　units　…〃
　〃Eat　it。〃
　〃What？〃
　〃Get　rid　of　the　goddamn　paper！〃　Chetwode　stared　blankly　at　him。　He　got　to　his　feet。　〃If　you　were　caught　and　they　found　that　on　you；　you'd　be　dead。　Or　wish　you　were。　What　other　incriminating　objects　are　you　carrying？〃
　He　snatched　the　paper　from　Chetwode。　Hastily；　eyes　wide；　the　boy　took　a　pouch　from　the　breast　of　his　robe。　It　contained　sheets　of　paper；　several　pencils；　a　small　pocket　torch；　and　a　tiny　bottle　containing　two　white　pills。
　〃Christ；　I　should　have　searched　you　before　we　left；〃　Ramses　muttered；　as　he　shredded　the　papers　and　stamped　on　the　neatly　sharpened　pencils。　〃What's　in　the　bottle？　Cyanide；　no　doubt。　The　Secret　Service　loves　cyanide。〃
　〃But　if　we're　caught　…〃
　〃We　had　better　be　able　to　talk　our　way　out　of　it；　which　we　could　not　do　if　we　were　carrying　British…made　writing　materials。　As　for　these　。　。　。〃　He　ground　the　innocent…looking　pills　under　his　heel。　〃Were　you　planning　to　ask　the　governor's　head　torturer　to　hang　on　a　minute　while　you　fished　round　in　your　pouch　for　the　bottle；　opened　it；　and　popped　the　pills　into　your　mouth？〃
　Chetwode's　head　drooped。　〃It　does　sound　ridiculous；　when　you　put　it　that　way。　They　told　me　…〃
　〃Yes；　all　right。　Look　here；　there　are　a　number　of　ways　we　could　have　gone　about　this；　including　your　uncle's　idiotic　suggestion　that　we　wear　captured　Turkish　uniforms　and　march　into　their　headquarters　demanding　information。〃
　〃I　don't　see　why　…〃
　〃Then　I'll　tell　you　why。〃　Ramses　lost　the　remains　of　his　temper。　〃It's　a　miracle　you　haven't　already　been　spotted。　If　I　were　picked　up　and　questioned；　they　would　probably　do　nothing　worse　than　send　me　to　the　trenches；　from　which　I　would　soon　remove　myself。　If　they　caught　you；　it　wouldn't　take　a　trained　officer　more　than　ten　seconds　to　identify　you　as　an　Englishman。　It's　not　just　your　accent；　it's　the　way　you　stand；　and　sit；　and　move　and　。　。　。　everything　about　you！〃
　Chetwode　bowed　his　head。　〃I　didn't　know　I　was　that　bad。〃
　〃All　of　you　are。　It's　not　your　fault；〃　he　added；　more　kindly。　〃To　pass　convincingly　as　a　native　of　the　area；　you　have　to　live　there　and　think　in　the　language　for　years。　This　is　the　safest　way；　and　I'm　trying　to　minimize　the　risks。　You've　done　fine　so　far；　but　you'll　have　to　follow　my　orders　and　keep　your　notes　in　your　head。〃
　〃Like　you？　All　that〃　…　he　gestured　at　the　scattered　bits　of　paper　…　〃was　a　waste　of　time；　wasn't　it？　You've　got　it　memorized。〃
　He　was　back　to　the　hero　worship。　It　was　almost　worse　than　his　brief　attempts　at　independent　thinking。　But　not　as　dangerous。　Ramses　shrugged。　〃It's　a　matter　of　practice。〃
　〃A　little　late　for　me　to　start　now；　I　guess。〃　He　looked　up　with　a　rueful　smile。　〃Sorry。　I'll　do　everything　you　say　from　now　on。〃