All that was surely worth collecting, and a solitary watcher sitting out by the highway could be sure that his time was not being misspent. He read more British poetry; and whenever a car came along, which was rarely, he watched it, prepared to step out if it should turn in toward the house. Shortly after Lanny finished the box lunch that was brought to him, there came a peasant cart, hauled by one forlorn donkey, which turned into the road. Lanny hailed the man, and discovered that he knew only a few words of French. But one of these was poulets, and he drew back a cover and revealed sixteen dressed chickens, undoubtedly intended for the visitors’ dinner. Lanny would get his share and be pleased; but orders were orders, so he walked beside the cart to the gate and called the master, the proper one to handle this situation.
The P.A. returned to his post. In the middle of the afternoon came another interruption of Wordsworth and Shelley. This time it was a large cart drawn by two mules and containing an assortment of Moors of both sexes and all sizes. One middle-aged man spoke a voluble if confusing French, and appeared to be annoyed at being stopped by a stranger. These were the farmers who lived here and had been sent away for a holiday; they had come back early because they were worried about the care of their stock. This was an emergency which had been foreseen by the Americans, and Lanny faithfully tried all the diplomacy, all the arguments, everything that had been planned, and more. But the Moors were as stubborn as the mules they drove; this was their home, they didn’t want any more holidays, they didn’t want any more money, they wanted to come home and make sure their livestock was not suffering neglect.
Lanny followed them up to the gate and called the owner. There was a delay in finding him, and meantime two of the younger fellows leaped off the cart and started toward the tenant houses. Lanny called to them, but they started to run and he had no way to stop them. Presumably their curiosity had been aroused, for one of them went to the edge of the bluff and looked down. Lanny could only pray that the submarine was not in sight. Later on he learned that there had been something else in sight. The British officers, who had hidden the boats in the brush, had brought up the damaged boat and repaired it, and then had decided that it would be wise to bring the others up into the ample kitchen and dry them and make sure there were no cracks.
The owner came out, and he had authority; also, he could speak Moorish. He gave each of the farmers money, and the cart was turned about; the two youths were called, and the whole outfit drove away again, but not without grumbling. What the master had told them Lanny didn’t know, but he could guess that the town of Cherchell didn’t offer much in the way of recreation, and that an undesired holiday paid for with unaccustomed sums of money must have seemed a strange phenomenon to primitive-minded peasants, whose cows and ducks and chickens were the most important things in the world to them.
Lanny called Murphy out and warned him that the situation did not look good. Murphy replied that the Americans would go as soon as it was dark. Lanny added: “If they can.” Heavy swells were rolling in from the sea and pounding on the beach; the chances of launching those tiny kayaks in such a surf appeared extremely slim to a man who had lived a good part of his life on Mediterranean shores and had played in boats of all sizes.
XIII
Back to his post of duty. Lanny was worried now, and did not think about poetry. The Counselor had said exultantly: “We have got treasures beyond price!” And Lanny didn’t have to be told how important it was to get those treasures on board the submarine. He watched the highway to the east, from which trouble was to be feared. Meantime the sun sank lower behind the hills to the west. Being no more than human, he thought occasionally of roast chicken, and wondered who was going to cook it. The three Englishmen, who had nothing else to do? And would Lanny’s share be brought out to him, or would he have to wait until darkness had fallen and he returned to the gate?
The alarm, when it came, was not from the highway, but from the house. There was a telephone line to it, and Lanny could guess that somebody had called and given warning. He heard loud voices from the courtyard, and a minute or so later the gates were thrown open and two cars came roaring out without lights. It took them but a few seconds to reach the highway; there they had to slow up to make the turn, and in one quick glimpse Lanny saw that the occupants were French officers, one of them, a gray-mustached and pudgy person in his underwear. Lanny was later told that in the excitement the old gentleman had taken off his uniform and rolled it into a bundle, thinking thus to escape recognition. But he was riding in a car with other officers who had their uniforms on!
The cars turned to the west, which told Lanny that the alarm had come from the direction of Algiers. Somebody, whether police or military, was coming from the capital, and the officers were getting away. Where the officers would go was their problem; where Lanny went was to the house, as fast as he could run, and through the open gate. The courtyard was empty, the front door open, and lights burned brightly.
He had been forbidden to enter, but he knew that the French were gone, and he was willing in an emergency to be known to the Americans and the British. So he went to the doorway and looked in. There were Murphy, Knight, and two young French lieutenants in uniform; in one glance Lanny took in a large living-room, with several tables put together in the center. No doubt they had been covered with maps and papers, but these had been swept up and put away, and now there were bottles of all kinds and sizes, empty or full.
“Murphy!” Lanny called, and the Counselor came quickly. He was in a state of agitation; his skin had the peculiar whiteness which so many Celts show. “Come outside,” Murphy whispered, and they moved out of the light. “A terrible thing! A telephone call to the owner, the police will be here any minute.”
“Where are the Americans and the British?” asked the P.A.
“We have put them down in the wine cellar, and we must keep the police from lifting the trapdoor. The boats are in the kitchen and that is locked; we must keep them out of there also. Remember, it’s a wild party, and it has to seem real.”
“I’ll do my best,” Lanny promised, and Murphy went back into the house and closed the door. Lanny went to the gate, drew it shut, and took his stand in front of it, not without palpitations of the heart. He had faced many dangers and difficulties in his career, but at the moment this seemed to top them all. Mentally he rehearsed his lessons, and incidentally got his breath back. He was going to need a lot of it this time!
XIV
Car lights appeared on the highway to the east, speeding rapidly. When they came to the entrance road, they slowed up and turned, and the two lights made a wide quarter-circle and came to rest, both of them precisely on Lanny Budd’s face, or so it seemed to him. They became larger and larger, brighter and brighter, and he faced them as if they were the eyes of all the world, or at any rate of all Nazidom and all Vichy collaboratisme. He stood his ground, and the car stopped within a few feet of him. From it descended a commissaire de police and a couple of his men. The driver remained in the car.
They would be armed, Lanny knew; but he was pleased to notice that what they had in their hands were flashlight torches. With the politeness acquired in the best social circles Lanny said: “Bonsoir, Messieurs.” The official replied with the same politeness, and added a question, which when literally translated reads: “What is it that it is that is going on here?”
So began the long duel of wits which had been so carefully prepared. Lanny explained first that he was a friend of Counselor Robert Murphy, and that this American official had leased this house for the purpose of giving a party to his friends. “It happens unfortunately, Monsieur, that my countrymen do not always content themselves with the good wines of this district; they have to have distilled liquors, and they get into a state of frenzy. It happens that I prefer good wines, and I don’t like to stupefy myself, so I came out to get a little fresh air and look at the stars which should make all drunkards ashamed of themselves.”
This with Lanny Budd’s best d
rawing-room grace, and a commissaire de police could have no doubt that he was in the presence of a gentleman of elegance and wealth, even if his linen suit had been rumpled by sitting out under trees.
“So it is that that is going on,” said the officer, and Lanny replied that that was precisely what it was.
“It causes me regret to say,” announced the official, “that it has been reported to us there has been black-marketing going on here.”
“Black-marketing, Monsieur? But it must be that some enemy is telling you the tale. The American Counselor and staff are surely not black-marketeers.”
“It is reported that men have been seen carrying heavy bundles up the path from the sea.”
“Oh, ça!” exclaimed the gentleman, hardly able to keep from bursting with laughter. “That is a tale which you will enjoy telling to your grandchildren. There were three of the guests at the party whose drinking was not to be controlled, and for fear that they would kill themselves we carried them down to the sea and doused them in the water. It had an excellent effect and they are now peacefully sleeping. I am sure that if you had seen us struggling to get them up the path, you would have agreed that they were heavy bundles.”
For some reason the officer was not eager to share this merriment. “Is this party still continuing?” he demanded.
“It is our very bad rule that parties go on so long as anybody wants to drink. Most of the guests now are sleeping, and I trust that you will not have to disturb them. But, of course, if you wish to join the party, we should be most happy.”
“I am on duty, Monsieur.”
“We have good wine, as well as English whisky, and it is no violation of duty to enjoy one glass. I am sure that if you care to come, the Counselor will welcome you. I am happy to tell you that the etiquette of American parties requires the host to remain in possession of his senses.”
XV
It would have been bad tactics to try to keep the men from entering, and much better to invite them than to wait for them to make a demand. Lanny pushed back the gate and the party entered and flashed the torches around. Perhaps they noticed that there was only one car; if they had commented on it, Lanny was prepared to explain that the guests had come to stay for some time. This was a wild party to end all wild parties.
Lanny led them to the front door and opened it, and there was a sight to shock the eyes of any guardian of public morality: a long table with plates and remnants of food, and not fewer than thirty bottles of every description, some of them empty and some full, some upset and dripping. Many glasses, some broken, and a dozen or more ash trays, full of ashes and cigar and cigarette stubs. At the table sat Vice-Consul Knight and the two French lieutenants in uniform. These latter were risking their lives to play this part; they had taken the decision on the spur of the moment, and were now doing it very well; their eyes were half shut and their heads were drooping and they were singing “Madelon” in droning voices.
In the center of the room stood the Counselor, tall, slightly stoop-shouldered, a man close to fifty and with thinning hair—surely he ought to have known better than to conduct such an affair as this. Lanny, who had made up on the spur of the moment the story about the dousing of the drunks, wanted his friend to be prepared, so he entered the room laughing gaily and explaining: “These gentlemen have come to investigate the place. It has been reported to them that we have been engaged in black-marketing. The men we doused in the sea and carried up to the house were taken for heavy bundles. You can certify how heavy they were!”
The three drunks at the table broke into maudlin laughter, and Murphy, suave and dignified, smiled pleasantly and assured the commissaire that neither he nor his government were engaged in cheating the government of France. The inquisition began all over again, and the commissaire revealed that he considered it his duty to search the house. At this the diplomatic official became very dignified and insisted that he would consider this an act of extreme discourtesy. He was greatly embarrassed because his guests had drunk too much, but now he had got them to bed, and he would certainly resent having them disturbed.
XVI
During the time of this ceremonious discussion the eight raiders were crowded into an ancient winecellar, dry in two senses of the word. Everything was covered with dust, and they had disturbed it. The dust got into the throat of a British captain, and he had to struggle with the impulse to cough. In his desperation he all but choked himself, and he gasped a request to General Clark for a piece of chewing gum. Clark gave him a piece, and he chewed it and managed to suppress the cough. Later Clark whispered to him, asking if the gum had helped, and the Briton replied that it hadn’t much flavor. Clark said: “I had been chewing it for an hour.” This was considered to be hilariously funny, but not until later.
They could hear the voices overhead, but could not make out anything. They had all been ordered to crouch close against the walls, with the idea that if the trapdoor were lifted they might escape notice. Clark had whispered the order: “If we have to fight, shoot to kill.” But they all knew that that would be a calamity and might entirely defeat the purpose of their visit. They could only sit still, and pray if they knew how.
Up in the main room the controversy had reached a point where Lanny judged it advisable to point out to the commissaire that American wild parties sometimes involved the presence of ladies, and it would be extremely embarrassing to these to have their privacy disturbed by a police search. The Counselor inquired: “What would you think if you were to read in the newspapers that Frenchmen in America, giving a private party, had had their home invaded and searched?”
“But this is not your home, Monsieur,” objected the official.
“When I have leased it, it becomes legally my home,” was the reply. “And moreover it becomes diplomatic premises. You apparently do not realize that I enjoy diplomatic immunity, and that you are standing upon the soil of the United States of America.”
“But this is wartime, Monsieur!”
“It is not wartime between my government and yours. My government is doing everything in its power to preserve peace and friendship with your government, and it is you who have committed a hostile act.”
That rather stumped the police official; at any rate, he didn’t know what to answer, and Lanny, with his best society smile, took the chance to intervene again. “Come, come, Monsieur le Commissaire, let us not prolong the argument unduly. You have the word of honor of the representative of the American government that there has been no black-marketing or smuggling here. You have my word, and you might have the word of these French officers.”
The two lieutenants had sunk their heads in their arms on the table and were supposed to be in a stupor. Lanny went over to one of them and shook him. “Monsieur le Lieutenant, tell the commissaire that there have been no contrebandiers here.”
“Contrebandiers?” echoed the other. He started up, swaying slightly and looking dazed. “Où sont les contrebandiers?”
Lanny said: “They think that we are contrebandiers.”
“Who thinks that we are contrebandiers?” The young officer was ready for combat.
“Tell the commissaire that there have been no contrebandiers here.”
“Non! Pas de contrebandiers.” The officer was as emphatic as could be desired.
“You see, Monsieur le Commissaire. These gentlemen are officers in your country’s Army. Surely you cannot wish to push this matter further.”
“I am not sure that I have the authority, Monsieur. I shall report the matter to my superiors.”
“And so shall we, Monsieur. In the meantime, let us drink to the welfare and friendship of our two countries.”
He went to the table and picked out a bottle of burgundy. There were clean glasses on the buffet, and he poured one and handed it ceremoniously to the commissaire. He poured for the others, and proposed a toast, and they all drank. After that there could be no more argument, and the three policemen retired to their car. In the doorway the reluctan
t official served warning: “My superiors will come, Messieurs.” He didn’t have to say that, and the thought flashed through Lanny’s mind: Can it be that he has guessed correctly, and that he is on our side in the situation?
XVII
The car turned, and drove to the highway, and its lights disappeared to the east. Lanny didn’t wait to see the raiders come out of their hiding-place, but closed the gate and resumed his vigil outside. He stayed there, a faithful Cerberus, the whole night long, and this time did not sleep. Afterward he learned what had been happening. The raiders had wanted to get away with their precious freight at the earliest moment, and had lugged their collapsible boats down to the shore, where the heavy surf was still pounding. They had a powerful blue torch with which they signaled the submarine, and the order was: “Come as close to the shore as possible. We are in trouble.”
The first to make a try was General Clark. He took off his outer clothing and rolled it into a bundle, and he and a British commando captain walked out into the surf. Clark, a powerful man, six-feet-three, got into the frail walnut shell; the other man followed, and they began paddling like mad. A tall comber came sweeping in, seized the tiny boat, turned it up on end, threw it over and back toward the beach.
“Save the General’s pants!” somebody shouted, and the reply was: “Hell, no, save the paddles!” This they managed to do; but the pants were gone, and somewhere in the boiling surf was a musette bag containing six hundred dollars in gold. When this story reached the newspapers, the amount had been increased to eighteen thousand dollars—apparently nobody stopped to figure that such a quantity of gold would weigh about sixty pounds and would have been rather difficult to transport in a kayak.
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