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By Root 4608 0

� stones painfully collected from a neighbouring water-course and bedded round the back wheels; bruised and muddy boughs dragged in the rain from the sparse woods a mile or more distant; the great boulder which they had rolled, it seemed, from the horizon to make a base for the jack � vainly; the heaps thrown up behind as the wheels, like a dog in a rabbithole, spun and burrowed. Listlessly helped by their boys, Pigge and Corker had worked all day, their faces blackened by exhaust smoke, their hands cut, soaked with rain, weary of limb, uncontrollable in temper. It was a morning of ethereal splendour � such a morning as Noah knew as he gazed from his pitchy bulwarks over limitless, sunlit waters while the dove circled and mounted and became lost in the shining heavens; such a morning as only the angels saw on the first day of that rash cosmic experiment that had resulted, at the moment, in landing Corker and Pigge here in the mud, stiff and unshaven and disconsolate. The earth-bound journalists turned hopelessly to the four quarters of the land. "You can see for miles," said Pigge, "Yes," said Corker bitterly, "and not a bloody human being in sight." Their boys were dancing to celebrate the new season, clapping and shuffling and shouting a low, rhythmical song of praise. "What the hell have they got to be cheerful about?" "They've been at the whisky again," said Corker.

That afternoon there was the party at the British Legation. K�hen had not got her card so William went alone. It did not rain. Nothing marred the summer serenity of the afternoon. Guests of all colours, and nationalities paraded the gravel walks, occasionally pausing behind the flowering shrubs to blow their noses � delicately between forefinger and thumb � as though trumpeting against the defeated devils of winter. "The President usually comes," said Bannister, "but he doesn't seem to be here today. Odd thing but there isn't a single Jackson in sight. I wonder what's become of them all." "I don't know about the others but the President is locked in his bedroom." "Good Lord, is he? I say, you'd better talk to the old man about this. I'll try and get hold of him." The Minister was regarding the scene with an expression of alarm and despair; he stood on the top step of the terrace, half in, half out of the French windows, in a position dimly remembered from the hide-and-seek of his childhood as strategically advantageous; it afforded a general survey of the dispositions of the attacking forces and offered alternative lines of retreat, indoors or through the rose garden. Bannister introduced William. The Minister gave the Vice-Consul a glance of mild reproach and smiled bleakly, the wry smile of one heroically resisting an emotion of almost overwhelming repulsion. "So glad you could come," he said. "Being looked after all right? Good, excellent." He peered over his shoulder into the shady refuge of his study. As he did so the door opened and three obese Indians waddled into the room; each wore a little gold skullcap, a long white shirt and a short black coat, each carried a strawberry ice. "How did they get in?" he asked petulantly. "They've no business there at all. Get them out. Get them out." Bannister hurried to head them off and the Minister was left alone with William. "You are from the Beast?" "Yes." "Can't say I read it myself. Don't like its politics. Don't like any politics...Finding Ishmaelia interesting?" "Yes, very interesting." "Are you? Wish I was. But then you've got a more interesting job. Better paid too, I expect. I wonder, how does one get a job like that. Pretty difficult I suppose; stiff examination, eh?" "No, no examination." "No examination? My word, that's interesting. I must tell my wife. Didn't know you could get any jobs nowadays without examinations. Wretched system, ruining all the services. I've got a boy in England now, lazy fellow, can't pass any examinations, don't know what to do with him. D'you suppose they'd give him a job on your paper?" "I expect so. It seemed quite easy to me." "I say, that's splendid. Must tell my wife. Here she is. My dear, Mr. Boot here says he will give Archie a job on his paper." "I'm afraid I can't be much help. I got the sack this morning." "Did you? Did you really? Pity. Then you can't be any help to Archie." "No, I'm afraid not." "My dear," said the Minister's wife, "I'm very sorry indeed, but I've got to introduce a new missionary you haven't met." She led him away and presented a blinking giant of a young man; the Minister nodded absently to William as he left him.