‘ and when it reaches seventy degrees,” Amber cut in, ‘the protein coagulates ’
“I am telling it,” said Saffron, furiously. “I am the oldest.”
“Only by one hour,” Amber retorted, and gabbled out the rest of the explanation. “Then we sieve off the curds and make them into bricks and dry them in the sun.” She pointed triumphantly at the long trestle tables laden with square blocks set out upon them in neat rows. This was what Penrod had eaten for breakfast, and he remembered David’s warning that there was precious-little else.
“We call it green-cake. You can taste some if you like.” Amber broke off a morsel and stood on tiptoe to place it between his lips.
“Scrumptious!” Penrod exclaimed, and swallowed manfully.
“Have some more.”
“Excellent, but enough for now. Your father says it is even tastier with Worcester Sauce,” he said hurriedly, forestalling delivery of the next mouthful, which was already on its way in Amber’s grubby little hand. “How much green-cake can you make in a day?”
“Not enough to feed everybody. Just enough for ourselves and our own people.”
The efficacy of the green-cakes was apparent. Unlike the rest of the malnourished populace, none of the inhabitants of the compound was showing signs of starvation. In fact, the twins were blooming. Then he remembered his brief meeting with their elder sister that morning.
Nothing wrong with her either. He smiled at the memory, and the two children took it as a sign of his approval and smiled with him.
Penrod realized that he now had staunch allies in the Courtney stronghold. “You really are two very clever young ladies,” he said. “I would be most obliged if you were to show me around the rest of the compound. I hear that there are all sorts of fascinating things here.”
“Would you like to see the animals?” cried Amber.
“The monkeys?” said Saffron.
“The bongos?”
“Everything,” agreed Penrod. “I would like to see everything.”
It was soon apparent that the twins were the favourites of everyone and that they had the run of the Courtney compound. They were particular friends and intimates of AH the animal-keeper. It was only with the greatest difficulty that the old man prevented himself grinning with delight as soon as he laid eyes on them. They led Penrod from cage to cage, calling to the animals by name and feeding them by hand when they responded.
“They didn’t like the green-cake at all when we first tried to feed them with it, but now they all love it. Just look how they gobble it up.” Amber pointed.
“What about dhurra? They must like that too?” Penrod set a bait for her.
“Oh, I suppose they do,” Saffron cut in, ‘but there isn’t enough for the people, let alone the animals.”
“We only get a cupful a day,” Amber confirmed.
“I thought your friend Ryder had plenty of dhurra and that he was selling it.”
“Oh, yes! He had a whole boatload. But General Gordon took it all from him. Ryder was furious.”
Penrod was grateful that the girls’ innocent disclosures virtually guaranteed that, despite the general’s suspicions, Courtney was not guilty of the theft of grain from the arsenal. He had no reason to feel any warmth for the man, especially after his remarks about Penrod’s whiskers and his good opinion of himself, but he was an Englishman and it would have been distasteful for Penrod to have to confirm Gordon’s suspicions.
“I would very much like to meet your friend Ryder,” he suggested tentatively. “Would you introduce me?”
“Oh, yes! Come with us.”
They dragged him from the menagerie, and across an inner courtyard until they reached a small door at the far end. The twins let go of his hands and raced each other to the door. They threw it open and burst into the room beyond. Penrod stepped up close behind them and, from the doorway, surveyed the room swiftly.
It was obviously both an office and the private living quarters of the owner of the compound. A massive pair of elephant tusks were mounted on the far wall, the largest Penrod had ever seen. The other walls were covered with magnificently woven Persian carpets, and dozens of murky yellowing photographs in dark wooden frames. More carpets covered the floors, and in a curtained recess, a large angareb bed was spread with golden leopard skins dappled with black rosettes. The chairs and the massive desk were hewn from polished native teak. The bookcases held rows of leather bound journals, and scientific books on flora and fauna. A row of rifles and muzzle-loading guns stood in a rack between the curves of the thick yellow tusks. Penrod’s gaze slid over this untidy masculine display, then riveted on the couple who stood in the middle of the room. Even the tumultuous twins were frozen with shock at the sight.
Man and woman were locked in a passionate embrace, oblivious to everything and everyone around them. Saffron broke the silence with a wail of accusation: “She’s kissing him! Becky is kissing Ryder on his mouth!”
Ryder Courtney and Rebecca Benbrook sprang apart guiltily, then stood, frozen, staring at the group in the doorway. Rebecca turned ice pale and her eyes seemed to fill her face as she looked at Penrod. He cut her a mockingly appreciative salute. “We meet again so soon, Miss Benbrook.”
Rebecca dropped her gaze to the floor and now her cheeks turned the bright crimson of live coals. “Her mortification was so intense that she felt dizzy and swayed on her feet. Then, with an enormous effort, she rallied. Without looking at either man she rushed forward and seized her little sisters by the wrists. “You horrible children! How many times have you been told to knock before you enter a room?”
She dragged them out of the open door, and Saffron’s voice receded in the distance: “You were kissing him. I hate you. I’ll never speak to you again. You were kissing Ryder.”
The two men faced each other as though neither had heard the sisterly accusations of betrayal. “Mr. Courtney, I presume. I hope my visit has not come at an inconvenient time.”
“Captain Ballantyne, sir. I heard that you arrived in our lovely city late last night. Your fame precedes you.”
“So it appears,” Penrod conceded. “Though for the life of me I know not how.”
“Simple enough, I assure you.” Ryder was relieved that there was to be no heavy-handed banter regarding the romantic episode that Ballantyne had witnessed it might have led to an outbreak of hostilities. “Your outrider, Yakub of the Jaalin, is the intimate friend of the nursemaid of the Benbrook twins and a stalwart of their household, a good lady by the name of Nazeera. Her busy tongue is one of her most apparent failings.”
“Aha! Now I understand. Perhaps you were even expecting my visit.”
“It comes as no great surprise,” Ryder admitted. “I understand that General Gordon, may all his enterprises flourish, has some questions for me regarding the dhurra missing from the arsenal.”
Penrod inclined his head in acknowledgement. “I see you keep yourself well informed.” He was appraising Ryder Courtney with a penetrating gaze, cloaked by a disarming smile as they sparred.
“I try to keep abreast of affairs.” Ryder was not at all disarmed by the smile, and his own gaze was just as shrewd. “But please do come in, my dear fellow. It is perhaps a little early, but may I offer you a cigar and a glass of firstrate Cognac?”
“I was convinced those two marvelous commodities no longer existed in this naughty world.” Penrod moved across to the chair Ryder indicated.
When their cigars were drawing evenly they regarded each other over their charged glasses. Ryder gave the toast: “I congratulate you on your speedy journey from Cairo.”
“I wish I were already on my way back.”
“Khartoum is hardly a spa,” Ryder agreed. They sipped the brandy and talked guardedly, still sounding each other out. Ryder knew Penrod by sight and reputation so there were no real surprises for him.
Penrod learnt swiftly that he had not been misinformed, and that Ryder was a formidable character, tough, quick and resilient. He was also good-looking in a rugged, forthright style. No wonder the lovely Miss Benbrook had shown herself susceptible to his advances. I wonder just how susceptible. It might be amusing to test her commitment to this fellow, man to man and hand to hand, so to speak. Penrod smiled urbanely, masking the glint of steel in his eyes. He dearly loved a contest, pitting his skills and wits against another, especially if a handsome prize were at stake. There was more to it than that. The nubile Miss Benbrook’s involvement with Ryder Courtney added a new dimension to the sharp attraction he had previously felt towards her. It seemed that, despite appearances, she was not made of ice, that there were depths beneath the surface, which might be fascinating to plumb. He was
