Before I close the meeting, he shouted, let us agree on what is to be done next. I propose a committee to-
A committee? shouted a voice over on the right. What do we need a committee for?
There are too many of us. If a few of us could work something out-
What is there to work out? We know what to do, dont we?
A petition-
But his words were drowned.
Death to the Grand Duke! came the cry.
A good meeting, wasnt it? said Sorgos, embracing Owen warmly.
If someone had died it wouldnt have been a good meeting!
Sorgoss face clouded over momentarily.
No one was hurt, were they? The crowd did seem to get a bit out of hand. But thats good, isnt it? You want people to have a bit of life in them. You dont want them to be dull under oppression. You want them to rise up, to rise up-
Its all very well rising up over in the Caucasus but this is someone elses country and you cant expect them to let you rise up here.
You rise up against oppression, said Sorgos, whether its there or here. And you rise up against the Russians anywhere you get the chance.
The Khedive would see you as a guest. He has very generously allowed you to live here and when he invites other guests he expects you to treat them with the same generosity.
You wouldnt treat the Russians with generosity, said Sorgos; not if theyd been to your village in Wales!
Those battles are for the Caucasus. Weve got enough trouble of our own here without your adding to it.
Trouble? What kind of trouble? I have lived here for thirty years and I have not seen any trouble. Not as it is in the Caucasus, anyway. Thats real trouble! Egypt is a peaceful country. Except when your soldiers go out and wreck a cafe. Just exuberance, of course, he added conciliatorily.
Trouble between Muslim and Christian, said Owen sternly. Thats what Im worried about.
No problem, Sorgos assured him. This is strictly between Christian and Christian.
Yes. But it wouldnt stay that way. Not in Cairo.
They would take our side? Well, that is understandable. They are men of spirit. Fine men! I know them. We fought side by side against the Russians.
Wait a minute; where is this?
Back home in the Caucasus. The Muslims were our allies. Against the Russians. I wont pretend we always saw eye to eye. There were differences between us. I mean, we had been fighting each other for several centuries. The Muslims were our natural enemy, you might say. But then the Russians came along and they were even more our natural enemy, so we sank our differences and fought side by side. Fine men! And women, too. To tell you the truth-Sorgos drew Owen to him and whispered in his ear-I think Katarina has got a bit of Muslim blood in her. It was always claimed that her grandmothers father had taken a girl from one of the tribes. A raid, you know. There were plenty in those days. And I think it was sometimes done for the sake of the women- Owen piloted him gently out of the square. The old man was still buoyant with excitement and Owen knew that his words were getting nowhere. He would have to talk with him again tomorrow. And with the others. The old man was in many respects the key, however. He seemed to have a bit of a following and they couldnt all be Mingrelians, either, if what Katarina had said was true, that there were only sixty families left. Perhaps the fact that he was an elder was something to do with it. He was looked to generally for leadership. Or, perhaps, of course, he was being used.
A man came running out of the square after them. He came up to them and threw his arms around Sorgos.
I wanted to catch you before you left, he said. A wonderful speech! The fire! Thats what was missing until you spoke. I was in despair. And then you came forward-
I spoke as a man should.
They dont speak like that nowadays.
Then they should!
Oh, yes, said the man; they should!
He saw that Owen was supporting the old man and looked at him enquiringly.
Are you all right? he asked. Id come with you myself, only-
Ill see him home, said Owen.
The man shook hands with them both and dashed off back into the square. Owen saw that beneath his galabeeyah he was wearing boots.
A Mingrelian? he asked.
Mingrelian? said Sorgos, surprised. No, Georgian.
He seemed suddenly very tired. The excitement had ebbed. He was barely able to stumble along. Owen offered him an arm, which he accepted gratefully. Like a son, he murmured. Like a son.
He recovered briefly when they reached his house.
Like a son! he roared, as Katarina came running to the door.
What? said Katarina.
Hes been like a son to me, said Sorgos, gesturing in Owens direction.
Well, thats nice, said Katarina.
I needed a bit of help to get home.
I told you you would, said Katarina, annoyed. But you wouldnt listen.
There was work to be done. Work for men.
You leave it to the men, then. Youve had your turn. Just help me a moment, would you? she said to Owen.
Together they got Sorgos to a divan. Katarina lifted his legs up and gently pushed him back. He fell asleep immediately.
Hes going to overdo it one of these days, she said.
Hes overdone it tonight, said Owen.
Whats he been saying?
It isnt the saying, said Owen. Its what might follow on from the saying.
Its only words now, said Katarina reassuringly. He wont be able to do anything.
Only words? said Owen. In a situation like this, words are enough.
What is the situation?
Owen told her.
She was silent for a moment. Then she said: He shouldnt come.
Duke Nicholas?
Duke Nicholas or any other Russian. Hes only doing it to provoke us.
The Mingrelians? For Gods sake, hes probably never heard of the Mingrelians.
That may well be true. Its easier to crush a people if youve never heard of them. He ought to have heard of us. We were a people. We had lives.
Look, Im not exactly in favour of him coming-
Tell me, she said; suppose you are right, and suppose he has never heard of the Mingrelians; and now suppose you tell him they are here, in Cairo, these people whom he crushed. What do you think he will say? Do you think he will be ashamed, do you think he will postpone his visit? I dont think so. I think he will say, let the visit go on. What do we care for these Mingrelians? If they cause trouble, put them down! That is what he will say, wont he?
Something like it, said Owen, remembering the Charge.
Very well, then. In that case I am with my grandfather. I think we should stand up. To show that we cannot be put down. We can be knocked down but we will never stay down.
Well, I have some sympathy with that, said Owen. But standing up is one thing and throwing a bomb is another.
The Russians should have thought of that, said Katarina, when they threw the first bomb.
That is all in the past.
The past is never all in the past. You always carry some of it with you.
You cant do it forever. Where do you think wed have been in Wales if wed gone on thinking like that?
Sorgos stirred in his sleep.
The Welsh, he said drowsily. A mountain people.
Thats right, said Owen. Wed still be in the bloody hills, thats where!
-and so the dog dropped the sack and ran away, said the storyteller, and all the names were just left lying there in the street. Now, the trouble was that in all the confusion, and what with all the shaking and jolting they had received, they had got mixed up. There were bits of mens names mixed with bits of womens names. Well, they all began crying out. One would shout, Who am I? and the other bit would shout, youre not you, youre me! So then they all began fighting each other. Well, then the blind man came running along the road and he tripped on the sack and fell right in on top of them-
Ho, ho! said the big man standing in the doorway. Very good!
Selim! came a shout from inside.
Coming! called the big man. You old bastard! he added sotto voce.
Owen followed him in.
Not you again! said the cafe owner, aghast.
Me again, said Owen cheerfully. How are things going?
Terribly, said the cafe owner. Your man is useless. Hes big, all right, but hes got something missing up top. The trouble is, thats the sort my wife goes for. Theyve only got to be simpletons for her to feel all soft about them.
Shed better not feel too soft about this bloke, said Owen uneasily.
Thats just what Ive told her! Kick the bugger up the backside, I say. Thatll get him moving! Only thats what I say about all of them and she doesnt take a blind bit of notice. Here, you idle sod! Fetch some coffee for the effendi! Hes your boss, isnt he? he added more quietly.
Selim came out of the kitchen looking daggers. He put the coffee before Owen, however, with a flourish.
Brilliant! whispered Owen. Youre doing brilliantly.
The next time they beat him up, Selim whispered back. Ill join in and help them!
Meanwhile, just put up with him. Youre doing very well, and this is important.
He just sits there all day giving orders, said Selim. Hes worse than a sergeant.
Yes, well, dont mind him. It wont be for long. Its just a question of waiting.
I dont mind waiting, said Selim. Not if Ive got my feet up and a pot of coffee in front of me. But this is not like that. The moment I sit down hes on to me.
There are worse things. Just keep it up, thats all. Now listen: theres something you can be doing. Try and find out the name of the gang. Talk to the woman.
Selim gave a broad smile.
Ill talk to the woman, all right, he said.
Owen and Zeinab had been to the opera; in fact, were still at the opera, only, as this was the interval, and intervals were somewhat protracted in Egypt, they were going for a walk round the nearby Ezbekiyeh Gardens. Gardens was perhaps a misnomer. In a country where, given water, anything will grow, and gardens were usually a riot of lush tropical vegetation, the Ezbekiyeh remained barren. There were various explanations for this. The most popular was that it was a British plot; or, conversely, testimony to Egyptian incapacity. Whatever the reason, the fact was that it consisted of only a few scrubby trees and some equally scrubby grass, tempting only for fornicating in, which was the reason, no doubt, why the gardens were fenced off with high iron railings and closed after dark.