bed in a slightly unnatural position, the neck slightly twisted in a way that suggested violence, the bright hair twisted into a sort of rope by his hands. He sat with his hand upon her, asserting his right to his prey. When his fingers passed over her naked body, lingering on thighs and breasts, she was shaken by a long painful shudder; then she went still again.
He lifted her head with one hand, looked into her face for a moment, let the head fall back on the pillow; it lay as it fell. He stood up, moved away from the bed; his foot caught in the fold of a blanket, he kicked it back and went on to the door. He had not spoken a single word since he entered the room, and he left it without a sound, apart from the faint click of the closing door. To her, this silence was one of the most terrifying things about him, in some way associated with his power over her.
I wondered where I was being taken. The place was colossal, the passages wound on and on. We passed the trap doors of oubliettes, cells hacked out of the rock. The walls of these hutches were running with water, with some noisome exudation. Perilous steps led down to still deeper dungeons. We went through several pairs of huge doors, which the guards in front unlocked and the others slammed shut behind us.
The warden received me in a civilized room. It was spacious and well-proportioned, the wood floor reflecting dim old chandeliers. The windows faced away from the town, over parklike grounds, sloping down to the distant fjord. His perfectly-fitting black tunic was of superb material, his high boots shone like mirrors. He was wearing the coloured ribbon of some order I did not know. This time my impression was more favourable; the arrogant look I disliked was less in evidence although it was clear that he was a born ruler, a law unto himself, not to be judged by the usual standards. ‘What can I do for you?’ He greeted me with formal politeness, his blue eyes looked me straight in the face. I told him the story I had prepared. He agreed at once to have the necessary permits made out and signed, I would get them tomorrow. On his own initiative he suggested adding a note to the effect that I was to be given help in my investigations. To me it seemed superfluous. He said: ‘You don’t know these people. They are naturally lawless and have an innate dislike of strangers, their ways are violent and archaic. I’ve tried hard to introduce more modern attitudes. But it’s useless, they’re embedded in the past like Lot’s wife in her pillar of salt; you can’t detach them from it.’ I thanked him; at the same time I was thinking about the guards, who hardly seemed to fit in with his enlightened outlook.
He remarked that I had chosen a strange time for my visit I asked why. ‘The ice will be here very soon. The harbour will freeze, we shall be cut off.’ He flashed a blue glance at me. Something had not been said. He had a trick of blinking his very bright eyes, which then seemed to emit blue flames. He went on: ‘You may be stranded here longer than you bargained for.’ Again the sharp look, as if something more were implied. I told him: ‘I’m only staying for a week or so. I don’t expect to find anything new. It’s more a matter of getting the atmosphere.’ In spite of my original aversion, I suddenly had a curious sense of contact with him, almost as though some personal link existed between us. The feeling was so unexpected, unaccountable and confusing that I added, ‘Please don’t misunderstand me,’ without knowing quite what I meant. He seemed gratified, smiled, and at once became more friendly. ‘So we speak the same language. Good. I’m glad you’ve come. We need closer contact in this country with the sophisticated nations. This is a beginning.’ Still somewhat hazy as to what we were talking about, I stood up to go, thanking him again. He shook my hand. ‘You must come and dine one evening. Let me know in the meantime if I can be of any further service to you.’
I was jubilant. My luck was holding. I seemed almost to have attained my object already, I was sure of a chance of seeing the girl. If the dinner invitation failed to materialize, I could always fall back on his final offer.
FOUR
The signed permits arrived the next day. The warden had initialled an additional sentence saying that I was to receive every assistance. This impressed the cafe proprietor, and I left it to him to circulate the message.
I began making notes on the town: my performance had to be convincing and thorough. I had sometimes thought vaguely of writing about the fascinating singing lemurs; now I had a perfect opportunity to describe them before the memory faded. Each day I wrote a little about my surroundings and a lot more on the other subject. There was nothing else to do, I would have been bored without this occupation, which became an absorbing interest and kept me busy for hours. The time passed surprisingly fast. In some ways I was better off than I had been at home. It was exceedingly cold, but I was warm in my room, having organized a daily supply of logs for the stove. No fuel problem existed here, close to these great forests To think of the ice coming nearer all the time was very disturbing. But for the present the harbour remained open, occasional ships came and went. From these I sometimes managed to obtain a few delicacies to supplement my meals at the cafe which were ample, but lacking in variety. I had arranged for my food to be served in a sort of alcove off the main room where I was out of the noise and smoke and had a certain amount of privacy.
The work I was supposed to be doing among the ruins enabled me to keep the High House unobtrusively under observation. I never once caught sight of the girl, though on several occasions I saw the warden emerge, always accompanied by his bodyguard. He usually jumped straight into his big car and was driven off at tremendous speed. I gathered that threats from political opponents accounted for these precautions.
After two or three days I became impatient. I was getting nowhere and time was short. As she never seemed to leave the High House, I should have to get in. But no invitation arrived. I was trying to decide on the best excuse for approaching the warden again when he sent one of his guards to fetch me to lunch. The man intercepted me on my way to the cafe at midday. I disliked the absence of notice, and the whole imperious style of the summons and its delivery. It was more a command than an invitation, and, feeling obliged to protest, I said it was hardly possible to cancel the meal already prepared and waiting for me at that very moment. Instead of answering me, the guard shouted. Two more black tunics appeared from nowhere: the wearer of one was sent to explain things to the cafe proprietor, while the other stationed himself beside me. I now had no alternative but to go with this double escort. Of course I was glad to do so, it was what I wanted. But I would have preferred less high-handed treatment.
The warden led me straight into a large dining hall with a long table intended for twenty people. He took his chair at the head, an imposing figure. I was seated beside him. A third place was laid opposite. Seeing me glance at it, he said: ‘A young friend from your country is staying with me; I thought you might like to meet her.’ He gave me one of his piercing looks as I replied calmly that I would be delighted. Inwardly I was exulting; it seemed almost too good to be true, the climax of my good fortune, to be spared the tricky business of asking to see her.
Dry Martinis were brought in a frosted jug. Immediately afterwards someone came in, whispered something, gave him a note. His face changed as he read the few words, he ripped the paper across and across, reducing it to minute fragments ‘It appears the young person is indisposed.’ I hid my disappointment by murmuring something polite. He was frowning furiously, obviously could not bear to be thwarted over the least thing; his anger pervaded the atmosphere. Saying no more to me, he signed for the extra setting to be removed, glasses and cutlery were whipped out of sight. The food was served, but he hardly touched what was on his plate, sat pounding the shreds of paper into a pulp with his clenched fist. I became more and more annoyed the longer he ignored me, particularly resenting this additional rudeness after the peremptory way he had sent for me. I wanted to get up and walk out, but knew it would be fatal to break off relations at this stage. To distract myself, I thought of the girl, decided I was probably responsible for her absence; she must have guessed who I was, if she had not known all along. I tried to imagine her alone in a silent room overhead. But she seemed miles away, a dream figure, inaccessible and unreal.
The warden gradually became calmer, although his expression remained forbidding. I would not speak first, but waited for him to acknowledge my presence. A joint of excellent young lamb was carved, and while we were eating he referred abruptly to my investigations. ‘I notice you confine them to the ruins in my vicinity.’ I was disconcerted, I had not known I was being watched. Luckily there was a ready-made answer ‘As you know, these have always been the administrative buildings, so anything of interest is more likely to turn up here than anywhere else.’ He said nothing, but made the sound of a player whose opponent claims a dubious point in the game. I could not tell whether my reply had satisfied him or not.
Coffee was put on the table, and to my surprise, everybody withdrew from the room. I felt apprehensive, I could not imagine what he could have to say to me in private. His mood appeared to have hardened; he looked formidable, cold, distant. It was difficult to believe he had ever showed friendliness when he remarked ominously:
