(} 


H. I.M. Seth of Azania 
from the painting by a native artist 



Black Mischief 


A NOVEL BY 


EVELYN WAUGH 


CHAPMAN & HALL 
LONDON 



FIRST PUBLISHED IN 1932 
THIS EDITION, RESET, 1962 
PRINTED IN G REA T BRITAIN BY 
BUTLER & TANNER LTD, 
FROME & LONDON 
CATALOGUE NO. 4/5056 



WITH LOVE TO 


MARY AND DOROTHY L YGON 



Illustrations 


H.I.M. Seth of Azania 
General Connolly at Ukaka 
Prudence and William 
Basil 


frontispiece 
page 44 
62 
95 


Viscount Boaz and Mme Fifi Fatim Bey at the Victory 
Ball at the Perroquet 109 
Map of tbe Azanian Empire 121 
'Frightful hoteL But Armenian proprietor v. 
obliging.' 166 
Basil rode to Gulu 221 
Destination unknown 238 



Preface 


BLACK MISCHIEF was written after a winter spent in 
East and Central Africa, an account of which appeared in 
Remote People and now survives, abridged, in When the 
Going was Good. 
The scene of the novel was a fanciful confusion of many 
territories. It was natural for people to suppose that it de- 
rived from Abyssinia, at that time the sole independent 
native monarchy. There are certain resemblances between 
Debra Dowa and the Addis Ababa of 1930. There was never 
the smallest resemblance between Seth and the Emperor 
Haile Selassie. The Arabs of Matodi never existed on the 
Ethiopian coast. Their model, so far as they had one, was 
in Zanzibar. 
Thirty years ago it seemed an anachronism that any part 
of Africa should be independent of European administration. 
History has not followed what then seemed its natural 
course. 


E. W. 


Combe Florey 1962 



Chapter One 
'We, Seth, Emperor of Azania, Chief of the Chiefs ofSak- 
uyu, Lord of Wanda and Tyrant of the Seas, Bachelor of the 
Arts of Oxford University, being in this the twenty-fourth 
year of our life, summoned by the wisdom of Almighty God 
and the unanimous voice of our people to the throne of our 
ancestors, do hereby proclaim. . .' Seth paused in his dicta- 
tion and gazed out across the harbour where in the fresh 
breeze of early morning the last dhow was setting sail for the 
open sea. 'Rats,' he said; 'stinking curs. They are all running 
away. ' 
The Indian secretary sat attentive, his fountain pen poised 
over the pad of writing paper, his eyes blinking gravely 
behind rimless pince-nez. 
'Is there still no news from the hills?' 
'None of unquestionable veracity, your majesty.' 
'1 gave orders that the wireless was to be mended. Where 
is Marx? I told him to see to it.' 
'He evacuated the town late yesterday evening.' 
'He evacuated the town?' 
'In your majesty's motor-boat. There was a large company 
of them - the stationmaster, the chief of police, the Ar- 
menian Archbishop, the Editor of the Azanian Courier, the 
American vice-consul. All the most distinguished gentlemen 
in Matodi.' 
'1 wonder you weren't with them yourself, Ali.' 
'There was not room. I supposed that with so many dis- 
tinguished gentlemen there was danger of submersion.' 
'Your loyalty shall be rewarded. Where had 1 got 
to?' 


11 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'The last -eight words in reproof of the fugitives were an 
interpolation?' 
'Yes, yes, of course.' 
'1 will make the erasion. Your majesty's last words were 
"do hereby proclaim".' 
'Do hereby proclaim amnesty and free pardon to all those 
of our subjects recently seduced from their loyalty, who shall 
during the eight days subsequent to this date return to their 
lawful allegiance. Furthermore . . .' 


They were in the upper story of the old fort at Matodi. Here, 
three hundred years before, a Portuguese garrison had 
withstood eight months' siege from the Omani Arabs; at 
this window they had watched for the sails of the relieving 
fleet, which came ten days too late. 
Over the main door traces of an effaced escutcheon were 
still discernible, an idolatrous work repugnant to the preju- 
dice of the conquerors. 
For two centuries the Arabs remained masters of the 
coast. Behind them in the hills the native Sakuyu, black, 
naked, anthropophagous, had lived their own tribal life 
among their herds - emaciated, puny cattle with rickety 
shanks and elaborately branded hide. Farther away still lay 
the territory of the Wanda - Galla immigrants from the 
mainland who, long before the coming of the Arabs, had 
settled in the north of the island and cultivated it in irregu- 
lar communal holdings. The Arabs held aloof from the 
affairs of both these people; war drums could often be heard 
inland and sometimes the whole hillside would be aflame 
with burning villages. On the coast a prosperous town arose: 
great houses of Arab merchants with intricate latticed win- 
dows and brass-studded doors, courtyards planted with dense 
mango trees, streets heavy with the reek of cloves and pine- 
12 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
apple, so narrow that two mules could not pass without 
altercation between their drivers; a bazaar where the money 
changers, squatting over their scales, weighed out the coin- 
age of a world-wide trade, Austrian thalers, rough stamped 
Mahratta gold, Spanish and Portuguese guineas. From 
Matodi the dhows sailed to the mainland, to Tanga, Dar-es- 
Salaam, Malindi and Kismayu, to meet the caravans coming 
down from the great lakes with ivory and slaves. Splendidly 
dressed Arab gentlemen paraded the water-front hand in 
hand and gossiped in the coffee houses. In early spring when 
the monsoon was blowing from the north-east, fleets came 
down from the Persian Gulf bringing to market a people of 
fairer skin who spoke a pure Arabic barely intelligible to the 
islanders, for with the passage of years their language had 
become full of alien words - Bantu from the mainland, 
Sakuyu and Galla from the interior - and the slave markets 
had infused a richer and darker strain into their Semitic 
blood; instincts of swamp and forest mingled with the 
austere tradition of the desert. 
In one of these Muscat trading fleets came Seth's grand- 
father, Amurath, a man wholly unlike his companions, a 
slave's son, sturdy, bow-legged, three-quarters Negro. He 
had received education of a kind from Nestorian monks near 
Basra. At Matodi he sold his dhow and entered the Sultan's 
service. 
It was a critical time in local history. The white men were 
returning. From Bombay they had fastened on Aden. They 
were in Zanzibar and the Sudan. They were pushing up 
round the Cape and down through the Canal. Their war- 
ships were cruising the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean inter- 
cepting slavers; the caravans from Tabora were finding 
difficulty in getting through to the coast. Trade in Matodi 
Was almost at a standstill and a new listlessness became 
apparent in the leisured life of the merchants; they spent 
13 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
their days in the town moodily chewing khat. They could no 
longer afford to keep up their villas round the bay. Gardens 
ran wild and roofs fell into disrepair. The grass huts of the 
Sakuyu began to appear on the more remote estates. Groups 
of Wanda and Sakuyu came into town and swaggered inso- 
lently about the bazaars; an Arab party returning from one 
of the country villas was ambushed and murdered within a 
mile of the walls. There were rumours of a general massacre, 
planned in the hills. The European powers watched their 
opportunity to proclaim a Protectorate. 
In this uncertain decade there suddenly appeared the 
figure of Amurath; first as commander-in-chief of the Sul- 
tan's forces, then as general of an independent army; finally 
as Emperor Amurath the Great. He armed the Wanda and 
at their head inflicted defeat after defeat on the Sakuyu, 
driving off their cattle, devastating their villages and hunt- 
ing them down in the remote valleys of the island. Then he 
turned his conquering army against his old allies on the coast. 
In three years he proclaimed the island a single territory and 
himself its ruler. He changed its name. Until now it had 
been scored on the maps as Sakuyu Island; Amurath re- 
named it the Empire of Azania. He founded a new capital at 
Debra Dowa, two hundred miles inland on the borders of the 
Wanda and Sakuyu territories. It was the site of his last 
camp, a small village, partially burnt out. There was no road 
to the coast, only a faltering bush path which an experienced 
scout could follow. Here he set up his standard. 
Presently there was a railway from Matodi to Debra 
Dowa. Three European companies held the concession in 
turn and failed; at the side of the line were the graves of 
two French engineers who went down with blackwater, and 
of numerous Indian coolies. The Sakuyu would wrench up 
the steel sleepers to forge spear heads and pull down lengths 
of copper telegraph wire to adorn their women. Lions came 
14 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
into the labour lines at night and carried off workmen; there 
were mosquitoes, snakes, tsetse fly, spirillum ticks; there 
were deep water courses to be bridged which for a few days 
in the year bore a great torrent down from the hills, bun- 
dling with it timber and boulders and an occasional corpse; 
there was a lava field to be crossed, a great waste of pumice 
five miles broad; in the hot season the metal blistered the 
hands of workmen; during the rains landslides and washouts 
would obliterate the work of months. Reluctantly, step by 
step, barbarism retreated; the seeds of progress took root and, 
after years of slow growth, burst finally into flower in the 
single, narrow-gauge track of the Grand Chemin de Fer 
Imperial d' Azanie. In the sixteenth year of his reign Amu- 
rath travelled in the first train from Matodi to Debra Dowa. 
With him sat delegates from France, Great Britain, Italy and 
the United States, his daughter and heir, her husband, 
while, in a cattle truck behind, rode a dozen or so illegitimate 
children; in another coach sat the hierarchies of the various 
Churches of Azania; in another the Arab sheiks from the 
coast, the paramount chief of the Wanda, and a shrivelled, 
scared old Negro, with one eye, who represented the Sakuyu. 
The train was decked with bunting, feathers and flowers; it 
whistled continuously from coast to capital; levies of irregular 
troops lined the way; a Jewish nihilist from Berlin threw a 
bomb which failed to explode; sparks from the engine started 
several serious bush fires; at Debra Dowa Amurath received 
the congratulations of the civilized world and created the 
French contractor a Marquess in the Azanian peerage. 
The first few trains caused numerous deaths among the 
inhabitants, who for some time did not appreciate the speed 
or strength of this new thing that had come to their country. 
Presently they became more cautious and the service less 
frequent. Amurath had drawn up an elaborate time-table 
of express trains, local trains, goods trains, boat trains, 
15 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
schemes for cheap return tickets and excursions; he had 
printed a map showing the future developments of the line 
in a close mesh allover the island. But the railway was the 
last great achievement of his life; soon after its opening he 
lapsed into a coma from which he never recovered conscious- 
ness; he had a wide reputation for immortality; it was three 
years before his ministers, in response to insistent rumours, 
ventured to announce his death to the people. In the suc- 
ceeding years the Grand Chemin de Fer Imperial d' Azanie 
failed to develop on the lines adumbrated by its founder. 
When Seth came down from Oxford there was a weekly 
service; a goods train at the back of which was hitched a 
single shabby saloon car, upholstered in threadbare plush. It 
took two days to accomplish the journey, resting the night at 
Lumo, where a Greek hotel proprietor had proposed a con- 
tract profitable to the president of the line; the delay was 
officially attributed to the erratic efficacy of the engine lights 
and the persistence of the Sa
uyu in their depredations of 
the permanent way. 
Amurath instituted other changes, less sensational than 
the railway, but nevertheless noteworthy. He proclaimed 
the abolition of slavery and was warmly applauded in the 
European Press; the law was posted up prominently in the 
capital in English, French and Italian where every foreigner 
might read it; it was never promulgated in the provinces nor 
translated into any of the native languages; the ancient 
system continued unhampered but European intervention 
had been anticipated. His Nestorian upbringing had strength- 
ened his hand throughout in his dealings with the white 
men. Now he declared Christianity the official religion of the 
Empire, reserving complete freedom of conscience to his 
Mohammedan and pagan subjects. He allowed and encour- 
aged an influx of missionaries. There were soon three 
Bishops in Debra Dowa - Anglican, Catholic and Nestorian 
16 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
_ and three substantial cathedrals. There were also Quaker, 
Moravia
, American-Baptist, Mormon and Swedish-Luth- 
eran missions handsomely supported by foreign subscribers. 
All this brought money into the new capital and enhanced 
his reputation abroad. But his chief safeguard against Euro- 
pean intrusion was a force of ten thousand soldiers, main- 
tained under arms. These he had trained by Prussian 
officers. Their brass bands, goosestep and elaborate uniforms 
were at first the object of mild amusement. Then there was 
an international incident. A foreign commercial agent was 
knifed in a disorderly house on the coast. Amurath hanged 
the culprits publicly in the square before the Anglican Cathe- 
dral- and with them two or three witnesses whose evi- 
dence was held to be unsatisfactory - but there was a talk of 
indemnities. A punitive force was landed, composed half of 
European, half of mainland native troops. Amurath marched 
out against them with his new army and drove them in 
hopeless rout to the seashore where they were massacred 
under the guns of their own fleet. Six European officers of 
field rank surrendered and were hanged on the battlefield. 
On his tr
umphal return to the capital'Amurath offered the 
White Fathers a silver altar to Our Lady of Victories. 
Throughout the highlands his prestige became super- 
human. '1 swear by Amurath' was a bond of inviolable sanc- 
tity. Only the Arabs remained unimpressed. He ennobled 
them, creating the heads of the chief families Earls, Vis- 
counts and Marquesses, but these grave, impoverished men 
whose genealogies extended to the time of the Prophet pre- 
ferred their original names. He married his daughter into 
the house of the old Sultan - but the young man accepted 
the elevation and his compulsory baptism into the National 
Church without enthusiasm. The marriage was considered a 
great disgrace by the Arabs. Their fathers would not have 
ridden a horse with so obscure a pedigree. Indians came in 
B.M.-B 17 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
great numbers and slowly absorbed the business of the 
country. The large houses of Matodi were turned into tene'- 
ments, hotels or offices. Soon the maze of mean streets be- 
hind the bazaar became designated as the ' Arab quarter'. 
Very few of them migrated to the new capital, which was 
spreading out round the palace in a haphazard jumble of 
shops, missions, barracks, legations, bungalows and native 
huts. The palace itself, which occupied many acres enclosed 
by an irregular fortified stockade, was far from orderly or 
harmonious. Its nucleus was a large stucco villa of French 
design; all round this were scattered sheds of various sizes 
which served as kitchens, servants' quarters and stables; 
there was a wooden guard-house and a great thatched barn 
which was used for state banquets; a domed, octagonal chapel 
and the large rubble and timber residence of the Princess 
and her consort. The ground between and about the build- 
ings was uneven and untidy; stacks of fuel, kitchen refuse, 
derelict carriages, cannon and ammunition lay in prominent 
places; sometimes there would be a flyblown carcase of a 
donkey or camel, and after the rains pools of stagnant water; 
gangs of prisoners, chained neck to neck, could often be seen 
shovelling as though some project were on hand of levelling 
or draining, but except for the planting of a circle of euca- 
lyptus trees, nothing was done in the old Emperor's time 
to dignify his surroundings. 
Many of Amurath's soldiers settled round him in the new 
-capital; in the first few years they were reinforced by a 
trickle of detribalized natives, drawn from their traditional 
grounds by the glamour of city life; the main population, 
however, was always cosmopolitan, and as the country's re- 
putation as a land of opportunity spread through the less suc- 
cessful classes of the outside world Debra Dowa gradually 
lost all evidence of national character. Indians and Armeni- 
ans came first and continued to come in yearly increasing 
18 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
numbers. Goans, Jews and Greeks followed, and later a race 
of partially respectable immigrants from the greater powers, 
mining engineers, prospectors, planters and contractors, on 
their world-wide pilgrimage in quest of cheap concessions. A 
few were lucky and got out of the country with modest 
fortunes; most were disappointed and became permanent 
residents, hanging round the bars and bemoaning over their 
cups the futility of expecting justice in a l
md run by a pack 
of niggers. 
When Amurath died, and the courtiers at last could devise 
no further explanation of his prolonged seclusion, his daugh- 
ter reigned as Empress. The funeral was a great occasion in 
East African history. A Nestorian patriarch came from Iraq 
to say the Mass; delegates from the European powers rode in 
the procession and as the bugles of the Imperial guard 
sounded the last post over the empty sarcophagus, vast 
crowds of Wanda and Sakuyu burst into wailing and lamen- 
tation, daubed their bodies with chalk and charcoal, stamped 
their feet, swayed and clapped in frantic, personal grief at 
the loss of their master. 
Now the Empress was dead and Seth had returned from 
Europe to claim his Empire. . 


Noon in Matodi. The harbour lay still as a photograph, 
empty save for a few fishing boats moored motionless against 
the sea wall. No breeze stirred the royal standard that hung 
over the old fort. No traffic moved on the water-front. The 
offices were locked and shuttered. The tables had been 
cleared from the hotel terrace. In the shade of a mango the 
two sentries lay curled asleep, their rifles in the dust beside 
them. 
'From Seth, Emperor of Azania, Chief of the Clu'efs of 
Sakuyu, Lord of Wanda and Tyrant of the Seas, Bachelor of 
19 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
the Arts of Oxford University, to His Majesty of the King of 
England, Greeting. May this reach you. Peace be to your 
house. . .' 
He had been dictating since dawn. Letters of greeting, 
Patents of Nobility, Pardons, Decrees of Attainder, Army 
Ordinances, police regulations, orders to European firms for 
motor-cars, uniforms, furniture, electric plant, invitations 
to the Coronation, proclamations of a public holiday in 
honour of his victory, lay neatly clipped together on the 
secretary's table. 
'Still no news from the hills. We should have heard of 
the victory by now.' The secretary recorded these words, 
considered them with his head cocked slightly to one side 
and then drew a line through them. 'We should have heard, 
shouldn't we, Ali?' 
'We should have heard.' 
'What has happened? Why don't you answer me? Why 
have we heard nothing?' 
'Who am I? I know nothing. 1 only hear what the ignor- 
ant people are saying in the bazaar, since the public men 
evacuated the city. The ignorant people say that your 
majesty's army has not gained the victory you predict.' 
'Fools, what do they know? ,\;Vhat can they understand? I 
am Seth, grandson of Amurath. Defeat is impossible. I 
have been to Europe. I know. ,\;Ve have the Tank. This is not 
a war of Seth against Seyid but of Progress against Barbar- 
ism. And Progress must prevail. I have seen the great tattoo 
of Aldershot, the Paris Exhibition, the Oxford Union. 1 have 
read modern books - Shaw, Arlen, Priestley. What do the 
gossips in the bazaars know of all this? The whole might of 
Evolution rides behind him; at my stirrups run woman's 
suffrage, vaccination and vivisection. I am the New Age. 1 
am the Future.' 
'1 know nothing of these things,' said Ali. 'But tb6 ig- 
20 


. 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
Dorant men in the bazaars say that your majesty's guards 
have joined Prince Seyid. You will remember my point- 
ing out that they had received no wages for several 
months?' 
'They shall be paid. I have said it. As soon as the war is 
over they shall be paid. Besides 1 raised them in rank. Every 
man in the brigade is now a full corporal. 1 issued the edict 
myself. Ungrateful curs. Old-fashioned fools. Soon we will 
have no more soldiers. Tanks and aeroplanes. That is modern. 
I have seen it. That reminds me. Have you sent off instruc- 
tions for the medals?' 
Ali turned over the file of correspondence. 
'Your majesty has ordered five hundred Grand Cross of 
Azania, first class; five hundred second; and seven hundred 
third; also designs for the Star of Seth, silver gilt and enamel 
with parti-coloured ribbon. . .' 
'No, no. 1 mean the Victory Medal.' 
'1 have received no instructions concerning the Victory 
Medal. ' 
'Then take this down.' 
'The invitation to the King of England?' 
'The King of England can wait. Take down the instruc- 
tions for the Victory Medal. Obverse, the head of Seth - that 
is to be copied from the photograph taken in Oxford. You 
understand - it is to be modern, European - top hat, spec- 
tacles, evening dress collar and tie. Inscription SET HIM- 
PERATOR IMMORTALIS. The whole to be simple and in 
good taste. Many of my grandfather's medals were florid. 
Reverse. The figure of Progress. She holds in one hand an 
aeroplane, in the other some small object symbolic of im- 
proved education. 1 will give you the detail of that later. The 
idea will come to me . . . a telephone might do . . . 1 will 
see. lVleanwhile begin the letter: 
'From Seth, Emperor of Azania, Chief of the Chiefs of 
21 


-- 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
Sakuyu, Lord of Wanda and Tyrant of the Seas, Bachelor of 
the Arts of Oxford Universliy, to Messrs Mappin and Webb 
of London, Greeting. May this reach you. Peace be to your 
house. . .' 


Evening and a small stir of life. Muezzin in the minaret. 
Allah is great. There is no Allah but Allah and Mohammed 
is his prophet. Angelus from the mission church. Ecce ancilla 
Domini: fiat mihi secundum verbum tuum. Mr Y oukoumian 
behind the bar of the Amurath Cafe and Universal Stores 
mixed himself a sun downer of mastika and water. 
'What I want to know is do I get paid for the petrol?' 
'You know 1 am doing all I can for you, Mr Y oukoumian. 
I'm your friend. You know that. But the Emperor's busy 
today. I've only just got off. Been on all day. I'll try and get 
your money for you.' 
'I've done a lot for you, Ali.' 
'1 know you have, Mr Y oukoumian, and 1 hope I am not 
ungrateful. If 1 could get you your money just by asking for 
it you should have it this evening.' 
'But I must have it this evening. I'm going.' 
'Going?' 
'I've made my arrangements. Well, 1 don't mind telling 
you, Ali, since you're a friend.' Mr Y oukoumian glanced 
furtively round the empty bar - they were speaking in 
Sakuyu - 'I've got a launch beached outside the harbour, 
behind the trees near the old sugar mill in the bay. What's 
more, there's room in it for another passenger. 1 wouldn't 
tell this to anyone but you. Matodi's not going to be a 
healthy place for the next week or two. Seth's beaten. We 
know that. I'm going to my brother on the mainland. Only I 
want my money for the petrol before I go.' 
'Yes, Mr Youkoumian, I appreciate your offer. But you 
22 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
know it's very difficult. You can hardly expect the Emperor 
to pay for having his own motor-boat stolen.' 
'1 don't know anything about. that. All 1 know is that 
yesterday evening Mr Marx came into my store and said he 
wanted the Emperor's motor-boat filled up with petrol. 
Eighty rupees' worth. I've served Mr Marx with petrol 
before for the Emperor. How was I to know he wanted to 
steal the Emperor's motor-boat? Should 1 have given it to 
him if 1 did?' 
Mr Y oukoumian spread his hands in the traditional ges- 
ture of his race. '1 am a poor man. Is it right that 1 should 
suffer in this way? Is it fair? Now, Ali, I know you. You're a 
just man. I've done a lot for you in the past. Get me my 
eighty rupees and 1 will take you to stay with my brother in 
Malindi. Then when the troubles are over, we can come 
back or stay or go somewhere else, just as we like. You don't 
want your throat cut by the Arabs. l'lliook after you.' 
'Well, 1 appreciate your offer, Mr Youkoumian, and I'll 
do what 1 can. I can't say more than that.' 
'1 know you, Ali. 1 trust you as I'd trust my own father. 
Not a word to anyone about the launch, eh?' 
'Not a word, Mr Youkoumian, and I'll see you later this 
evening. ' 
'That's a good fellow. Au revoir and remember, not a 
word to anyone about the launch.' 
When Ali had left the Amurath Cafe, Youkoumian's wife 
emerged from the curtain behind which she had been listen- 
ing to the conversation. 
'What's all this you've been arranging? We can't take 
that Indian to Malindi.' 
'I want my eighty rupees. My dear, you must leave these 
business matters to me.' 
'But there isn't room for anyone else in the launch. We're 
overloaded already. You know that.' 
23 



BLACK MISCHIEF 


'I know that.' 
'Are you mad, Krikor? Do you want to drown us all?' 
'You must leave these things to me, my flower. There is 
no need to worry. Ali is not coming with us. All I want is my 
eighty rupees for Mr Marx's petrol. Have you finished your 
packing? We start as soon as Ali returns with the money.' 
'Krikor, you wouldn't. . . you aren't going to leave me 
behind, are you?' 
'1 should not hesitate to do so if I thought it necessary. 
Finish your packing, girl. Don't cry. Finish your packing. 
You are coming to Malindi. I have said it. Finish your pack- 
ing. 1 am a just man and a peaceful man. You know that. 
But in time of war one must look after oneself and one's own 
family. Yes, one's family, do you hear me? Ali will bring us 
the money. We shall not take him to Malindi. Do you 
understand? If he is a trouble I shall hit him with my stick. 
Don't stand there like a fool. Finish your packing.' 
The sun had now set. As Ali walked back to the fort 
through the dark lane he was aware of new excitement in 
the people around him. Groups were hurrying to the water- 
front, others stood in their doorways chattering eagerly. He 
heard the words 'Seyid', 'Victory' and 'Army'. In the open 
space before the harbour he found a large crowd collected 
with their backs to the water, gazing inland over the town. 
He joined them and in the brief twilight saw the whole dark 
face of the hills alight with little points of fire. Then he left 
the crowd and went to the old fort. Major Joab, the officer of 
the guard, stood in the court studying the hills through 
field -glasses. 
'You have seen the fires inland, secretary?' 
'1 have seen them.' 
'1 think there is an army encamped there.' 
'It is the victorious army, major.' 
'Praise God. It is what we have waited to see.' 
24 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Certainly. We should praise God whether in prosperity 
or adversity,' said Ali, piously; he had accepted Christianity 
on entering Seth's service. 'But 1 bring orders from the Em- 
peror. You are to take a picket and go with them to the 
Amurath Bar. There you will find the Armenian Youkou- 
mian, a little fat man wearing a black skull cap. You know 
him? Very well. He is to be put under arrest and taken a 
little outside the town. It does not matter where, but take 
him some distance from the people. There you are to hang 
him. Those are the Emperor's orders. When it is done, re- 
port to me personally. There is no need to mention the 
matter directly to His Majesty. You understand?' 
'I understand, secretary.' 
Upstairs, Seth was deep in a catalogue of wireless ap- 
paratus. 
'Oh, Ali, I have decided on the Tudor model in fumed oak. 
Remind me tomorrow to write for it. Is there still no news?' 
Ali busied himself in arranging the papers on the table 
and fitting the typewriter into its case. 
'Is there no news?' 
'There is news of a kind, Majesty. I opine that there is an 
army bivouacked in the hills. Their fires are visible. If your 
majesty will come outside, you will see them. No doubt they 
will march into the city tomorrow.' 
Seth sprang gaily from his chair and ran to the window. 
'But this is magnificent news. The best you could have 
brought. Ali, I will make you a Viscount tomorrow. The 
army back again. It is what we have been longing for the 
last six weeks, eh, Viscount?' 
'Your majesty is very kind. I said an army. There is no 
means of knowing which one it may be. If, as you surmise, 
it is General Connolly, is it not curious that no runner has 
come to salute your majesty with news of the victory?' 
'Yes, he should have sent word.' 
25 



 
L 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Majesty, you are defeated and betrayed. Everyone in 
Matodi knows it except yourself.' 
For the first time since the beginning of the campaign, 
Ali saw that there was uncertainty in his master's mind. 'If 
I am defeated,' said Seth, 'the barbarians will know where 
to find me.' 
'Majesty, it is not too late to escape. Only this evening 1 
heard of a man in the town who ha
 a launch hidden outside 
the harbour. He means to leave in it himself, for the main- 
land, but he would sell it at a price. There are ways for a 
small man to escape where a great man like your majesty 
would be trapped. For two thousand rupees he will sell this 
boat. He told me so, in so many words. He named the price. 
It is not much for the life of an Emperor. Give me the 
money, Majesty, and the boat shall be here before midnight. 
And in the morning Seyid's troops will march into the town 
and find it empty.' 
Ali looked hopefully across the table, but before he had 
finished speaking he realized that Seth's mood of uncer- 
tainty was past. 
'Seyid's troops will not march into the town. You forget 
that I have the Tank. Ali, you are talking treasonable non- 
sense. Tomorrow I shall be here to receive my victorious 
general. ' 
'Tomorrow will show, Majesty.' 
'Tomorrow will show.' 
'Listen,' said Ali, 'my friend is very loyal to your majesty 
and a most devoted man. Perhaps if I were to use my in- 
fluence he might reduce his price.' 
'1 shall be here in the morning to receive my army.' 
'Suppose he would accept eighteen hundred rupees?' 
'I have spoken.' 
Without further discussion Ali picked up his typewriter 
and left the room. As he opened the doors his ears caught 
26 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
the inevitable shuffle of bare feet, as a spy slipped away down 
the dark passage. It was a sound to which they had grown 
accustomed during the past months. 
In his own quarters Ali poured out a glass of whisky and 
lit a cheroot. Then he drew out a fibre trunk from beneath 
the bed and began a methodical arrangement of his pos- 
.sessions preparatory to packing them. Presently there was a 
knock at the door and Major Joab came in. 
'Good evening, secretary.' 
'Good evening, major. The Armenian is dead?' 
'He is dead. Heavens, how he squealed. You have whisky 
there. ' 
'Will you help yourself?' 
'Thank you, secretary . . . you seem to be preparing for a 
journey. ' 
'It is well to be prepared - to have one's things in good 
order.' 
'I think there is an army in the hills.' 
'It is what they are saying.' 
'I think it is the army of Seyid.' 
'That, too, is being said.' 
'As you say, secretary, it is well to be prepared.' 
'Will you take a cheroot, major? I expect that there are 
many people in Matodi who would be glad to leave. The 
army will be here tomorrow.' 
'It is not far away. And yet there is no way of leaving the 
town. The boats are all gone. The railway is broken. The 
road leads straight to the encampment.' 
Ali folded a white drill suit and bent over the trunk, 
carefully arranging the sleeves. He did not look up as he 
said: 'I heard of a man who had a boat. It was spoken of 
in the bazaar, 1 forget by whom. An ignorant fellow no 
doubt. But this man, whoever it was, spoke of a boat con- 
cealed outside the harbour. He was going to the mainland 
27 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
tonight. There was room for two others, so they said. Do 
you think a man would find passengers to the mainland at 
five hundred rupees ,each? That is what he asked.' 
'It is a great price for a journey to the mainland.' 
'It is not much for a man's life. Do you think such a man, 
supposing there is any truth in the tale, would find pas- 
sengers?' 
'Perhaps. Who can tell? A man of affairs who can take his 
wisdom with him - a foreigner with no stock but a type- 
writer and his clothes. 1 do not think a soldier would go.' 
'A soldier might pay three hundred?' 
'It is not likely. What life would there be for him in a 
foreign country? And among his own people he would be 
dishonoured. ' 
'But he would not hinder others from going. A man who 
would pay five hundred rupees for his passage money, would 
not grudge another hundred to the guard who allowed him 
to pass?' 
'Who can say? Some soldiers might hold that a small price 
for their honour.' 
'But two hundred.' 
'I think soldiers are for the most part poor men. It is 
seldom they earn two hundred rupees. . . . Well, I must bid 
you good night, secretary. I must return to my men.' 
'How late do you stay on guard, major?' 
'Till after midnight. Perhaps I shall see you again.' 
'Who can say? . . . Oh, major, you have forgotten your 
papers. ' 
'So I have. Thank you, secretary. And good night.' 
The major counted the little pile of notes which Ali had 
placed on the dressing-table. Two hundred exactly. He 
buttoned them into his tunic pocket and returned to the 
guard house. 
Here, in the inner room, sat Mr Youkoumian talking to 
28 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
the captain. Half an hour before the little Armenian had 
been very near death, and awe of the experience still over- 
cast his normally open and loquacious manner. It was not 
until the rope was actually round his neck that he had been 
inspired to mention the existence of his launch. His face was 
damp and his voice jerky and subdued. 
'What did the Indian dog say?' 
'He wanted to sell me a place in the boat for five hundred 
rupees. Does he know where it is hidden?' 
'Fool that I was, I told him.' 
'It is of little consequence. He gave me two hundred 
rupees to let him past the guard, also some whisky and a 
cheroot. There is no need for us to worry about Ali. When 
do we start?' 
'There is one point, officers. . . my wife. There is not 
room for her in the boat. She must not know of our depar- 
ture. Where was she when you - when we left the cafe to- 
gether?' 
'She was making a noise. One of the corporals locked her 
in the loft.' 
'She will get out of there.' 
'You leave all that to us.' 
'Very well, major. I am a just man and a peaceable man. 
You know that. I only want to be sure that everything will 
be agreeable for everyone.' 
Ali finished his packing and sat down to wait. 'What's 
lVlajor Joab up to?' he wondered. 'It is curious his refusing 
to leave the town. I suppose he thinks he will get a price for 
Seth in the morning.' 


Night and the fear of darkness. In his room at the top of the 
old fort Seth lay awake and alone, his eyes wild with the 
inherited te)'ror of the jungle, desperate with the acquired 
29 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
loneliness of civilization. Night was alive with beasts and 
devils and the spirits of dead enemies; before its power Seth's 
ancestors had receded, slid away from its attack, abandoning 
in retreat all the baggage of Individuality; they had lain six 
or seven in a hut; between them and night only a wall of 
mud and a ceiling of thatched grass; warm, naked bodies 
breathing in the darkness an arm's reach apart, indivisibly 
unified so' that they ceased to be six or seven scared blacks 
and became one person of more than human stature, less 
vulnerable to the peril that waIked near them. Seth could 
not expand to meet the onset of fear. He was aIone, dwarfed 
by the magnitude of the darkness, insulated from his fellows, 
strapped down to mean dimensions. 
The darkness pulsed with the drumming of the unknown 
conquerors. In the narrow streets of the city the people were 
awake - active and apprehensive. Dark figures sped to and 
fro on furtive errands, hiding from each other in doorways 
till the way was empty. In the houses they were packing 
away bundles in secret places, little hoards of coins and jewel- 
lery, pictures and books, ancestral sword hilts of fine work- 
manship, shoddy trinkets from Birmingham and Bombay, 
silk shawls, scent bottles, anything that might attract atten- 
tion next morning when the city was given over to loot. 
Huddled groups of women and children were being herded 
to refuge in the cellars of the old houses or into the open 
country beyond the walls; goats, sheep, donkeys, Ii vestock 
and poultry of all kinds jostled with them for precedence in 
the city gates. Mme Y oukoumian, trussed like a chicken on 
the floor of her own bedroom, dribbled through her gag and 
helplessly writhed her bruised limbs. 
Ali, marching back to the fort under arrest between two 
soldiers, protested angrily to the captain of the guard. 
'You are making a great mistake, captain. I have made all 
arrangements with the major for my departure.' 
50 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'It is the Emperor's orders that no one leaves the city.' 
'When we see the major he will explain everything.' 
The captain made no reply. The little party marched on; 
in front between two other soldiers shambled Ali's servant, 
bearing his master's trunk on his head. 
When they reached the guard-room, the captain reported. 
'Two prisoners, major, arrested at the South Gate attempt- 
ing to leave the city.' 
'You know me, major; the captain has made a mistake. 
Tell him it is all right for me to go.' 
'I know you, secretary; captain, report the arrests to His 
Majesty.' 
'But, major, only this evening I gave you two hundred 
rupees. Do you hear, captain, I gave him two hundred 
rupees. You can't treat me like this. I shall tell His Majesty 
everything. ' 
'We had better search his luggage.' 
The trunk was opened and the contents spread over the 
floor. The two officers turned them over with interest and 
appropriated the few articles of value it contained. The 
minor possessions were tossed to the corporals. At the bot- 
tom, wrapped in a grubby nightshirt, were two heavy ob- 
jects which, on investigation, proved to be the massive gold 
crown of the Azanian Empire and an elegant ivory sceptre 
presented to Amurath by the President of the French Re- 
public. Major Joab and the captain considered this discovery 
for some time in silence. Then the major answered the 
question that was in both their minds. 'No,' he said, 'I think 
we had better show these to Seth.' 
'Both of them?' 
'Well, at any rate, the sceptre. It would not be so easy to 
dispose of. Two hundred rupees,' said the major bitterly, 
turning on Ali, 'two hundred rupees and you proposed to 
walk off with the Imperial regalia.' 
31 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
From the inner room Mr Y oukoumian listened- to this 
conversation in a mood of sublime contentment; the ser- 
geant had given him a cigarette out of a box lifted from the 
shop at the time of his arrest; the captain had given him 
brandy - similarly acquired - of his own distillation; a fiery, 
comforting spirit. The terrors of the gallows were far behind 
him. And now Ali had been caught red-handed with the 
crown jewels. Nothing was required to complete Mr You- 
koumian's happiness, except a calm sea for their crossing to 
the mainland; and the gentle night air gave promise that 
this, too, would be vouchsafed him. 
It was only a matter of a few words for Major Joab to 
report the circumstances of Ali's arrest. The damning evi- 
dence of the sceptre and the soiled nightshirt was laid before 
Seth on the table. The prisoner stood between his captors 
without visible interest or emotion. When the charge had 
been made, Seth said, 'Well, Ali.' 
Until now they had spoken in Sakuyu. Ali answered, as 
he always spoke to his master, in English. 'It is regrettable 
that this should have happened. These ignorant men have 
greatly disturbed the preparations for your majesty's depar- 
ture. ' 
'For my departure?' 
'For whom else would 1 prepare a boat? What other 
reason could 1 have for supervising the safe conduct of your 
majesty's sceptre, and of the crown which the officers have 
omitted to bring from the guard-room?' 
'I don't believe you, Ali.' 
'Your majesty wrongs himself. You are a distinguished 
man, educated in Europe - not like these low soldiers. 
Would you have trusted me had I been unworthy? Could I, a 
poor Indian, hope to deceive a distinguished gentleman 
educated in Europe? Send these low men out and I will ex- 
plain eveI')'thing to you.' 


52 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
The officers of the guard had listened uneasily to these 
alien sentences; now at Seth's command they withdrew their 
men. 'Shall I make preparations for the execution, Majesty?' 
'Ye
 . . . no . . . I will tell you when. Stand by for fur- 
ther orders below, Major.' 
The two officers saluted and left the room. When they 
had gone Ali sat down opposite his master and proceeded at 
his ease. There was no accusation or reproach in the Em- 
peror's countenance, no justice or decision, trust or forgive- 
ness; one emotion only was apparent in the dark young face 
before him, blank terror. Ali saw this and knew that his case 
was won. 'Majesty, 1 will tell you why the officers have 
arrested me. It is to prevent your escape. They are plotting 
to sell you to the enemy. I know it. 1 have heard it all from 
one of the corporals who is loyal to us. It was for this reason 
that I prepared the boat. When all was ready I would have 
come to you, told you of their treachery and brought you 
away safely.' 
'But, Ali, you say they would hand me over to the enemy. 
Am I then really beaten?' 
'Majesty, all the world knows. The British General Con- 
nolly has joined Prince Seyid. They are there on the hills 
together now. Tomorrow they will be in Matodi.' 
'But the Tank?' 
'Majesty, Mr Marx, the distinguished mechanic who 
made the tank, fled Jast night, as you well know.' 
'Connolly too. Why should he betray me? I trusted him. 
Why does everyone betray me? Connolly was my friend.' 
'Majesty, consider the distinguished general's position. 
What would he do? He might conquer Seyid and your 
majesty would reward him, or he might be defeated. If he 
joins Seyid, Seyid will reward him, and no one can defeat 
him. How would you expect a distinguished gentleman, 
educated in Europe, should choose?' 
B.M.-C 55 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'They are all against me. All traitors. There is no one I 
can trust.' 
'Except me, Majesty.' 
'I do not trust you. You, least of all.' 
'But you must trust me. Don't you understand? If you do 
not trust me there will be no one. You will be alone, quite 
alone. ' 
'1 am alone. There is no one.' 
'Then since all are traitors, trust a traitor. Trust me. You 
must trust me. Listen. It is not too late to escape. No one but 
I knows of the boat. The Armenian Y oukoumian is dead. 
Do you understand, Majesty? Give the order to the guards 
to let me pass. I will go to where the boat is hidden. In an 
hour I will have it here, under the sea wall. Then when the 
guard is changed you will join me. Don't you understand? It 
is the only chance. You must trust me. Otherwise you will 
be alone.' 
The Emperor stood up. '1 do not know if I can trust you. I 
do not think there is anyone I can trust. I am alone. But 
you shall go. Why should I hang you? What is one life more 
or less when all are traitors. Go in peace.' 
'Your majesty's faithful servant.' 
Seth opened the door; again the scamper of the retreating 
spy. 
'Major.' 
'Majesty. ' 
'Ali is to go free. He may leave the fort.' 
'The execution is cancelled?' 
'Ali may leave the fort.' 
'As your majesty commands.' Major Joab saluted. As Ali 
left the lighted room he turned back and addressed the 
Emperor. 
'Your majesty does well to trust me.' 
'I trust no one. . . I am alone.' 
54 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
The Emperor was alone. Faintly on the night air he heard 
the throbbing of drums from the encamped army. Quarter- 
past two. Darkness for nearly four hours more. 
Suddenly the calm was splintered by a single, shrill cry- 
a jet of sound, spurting up from below, breaking in spray 
over the fort, then ceasing. Expressive of nothing, followed 
by nothing; no footsteps; no voices; silence and the distant 
beat of the tomtoms. 
Seth ran to the door. 'Rullo! Who is there? What is that? 
Major! Officer of the guard!' No answer. Only the inevit- 
able scuffle of the retreating spy. He went to the window. 
'Who is there? What has happened? Is there no one on 
guard?' 
A long silence. 
Then a quiet voice from below. 'Majesty?' 
'Who is that?' 
'Major Joab of the Imperial Infantry at your majesty's 
service. ' 
'What was that?' 
'Majesty?' 
'What was that cry?' 
'It was a mistake, your majesty. There is no cause for 
alarm. ' 
'What has happened?' 
'The sentry made a mistake. That is all.' 
'What has he done?' 
'It is only the Indian, Majesty. The sentry did not under- 
stand his orders. I will see to it that he is punished.' 
'What has happened to Ali? Is he hurt?' 
'He is dead, your majesty. It is a mistake of the sentry's. I 
am sorry your majesty was disturbed.' 
Presently Major Joab, the captain of the guard, and Mr 
Youkoumian, accompanied by three heavily burdened cor- 
porals, left the fort by a side door and made their way out of 
35 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
the town along the coast path towards the disused sugar 
mills. 
And Seth was alone. 


Another dawn. With slow feet Mr Y oukoumian trudged 
into Matodi. There was no one about in the streets. All who 
could had left the city during the darkness; those who re- 
mained lurked behind barred doors and barricaded win- 
dows; from the cracks of shutters and through keyholes a few 
curious eyes observed the weary little figure dragging down 
the lane to the Amurath Cafe and Universal Stores. 
Mme Y oukoumian lay across the bedroom doorstep. Dur- 
ing the night she had bitten through her gag and rolled 
some yards across the floor; tbat far her strength had taken 
her. Then, too exhausted to cry out or wrestle any further 
with the ropes that bound her, she had lapsed into inter- 
mittent coma, disturbed by nightmares, acute spasms of 
cramp and the scampering of rats on the earthen floor. In 
the green and silver light of dawn this bruised, swollen and 
dusty figure presented a spectacle radically repugnant to 
Mr Y oukoumian's most sensitive feelings. 
'Krikor, Krikor. Oh praise God you've come. . . I thought 
I should never see you again. . . . Blessed Mary and Joseph. 
. . . Where have you been? . . . What has happened to you? 
. . . Oh, Krikor, my own husband, praise God and his angels 
who have brought you back to me.' 
Mr Youkoumian sat down heavily on the bed and pulled 
off his elastic-sided button boots. 'I'm tired,' he said. 'God, 
how tired I am. 1 could sleep for a week.' He took a bottle 
from the shelf and poured out a drink. 'I have had one of the 
most disagreeable nights of my life. First I am nearly hanged. 
Will you believe it? The noose was actually round my neck. 
Then I am made to walk out as far as the sugar mills, then 
36 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
the next thing I know I am alone, lying on the beach. My 
luggage is gone, my boat is gone, the damned soldiers are 
gone and I have a lump on the back of my head the size of an 
egg. Just you feel it.' 
'I'm tied up, Krikor. Cut the string and let me help you. 
Oh, my poor husband.' 
'How it aches. What a walk back. And my boat gone. 1 
could have got fifteen hundred rupees for that boat yester- 
day. Oh my head. Fifteen hundred rupees. My feet ache too. 
I must go to bed.' 
'Let Ine loose, Krikor, and 1 will attend to you, my poor 
husband.' 
'No, it doesn't matter, my flower. I'll go to bed. I could 
sleep for a week.' 
'Krikor, let me loose.' 
'Don't worry. I shall be all right when I have had a sleep. 
'Vhy, 1 ache all over.' He tossed off the drink and with a 
little grunt of relief drew his feet up on to the bed and rolled 
over with his face to the wall. 
'Krikor, please. . . you must let me loose. . . don't you 
see? I've been like this all night. I'm in such pain . . .' 
'You stay where you are. I can't attend to you now. You're 
always thinking of yourself. vVhat about me? I'm tired. 
Don't you hear me?' 
'But, Krikor -' 
'Be quiet, you slut.' 
And in less than a minute Mr Youkoumian found conso- 
lation for the diverse fortunes of the night in profound and 
prolonged sleep. 
He was awakened some hours ] ater by the entry into 
Matodi of the victorious army. Drums banging, pipes 
whistling, the soldiers of Progress and the New Age passed 
under his window. Mr Youkoumian rolled off the bed, rub- 
bing his eyes, and peeped through the chink of the shutters. 
37 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'God save my soul,' he remarked. 'Seth's won after all.' 
Then with a chuckle, 'What a pair of fools Major Joab and 
the captain turn out to be.' 
Mme Youkoumian looked up from the floor with piteous 
appeal in her dark eyes. He gave her a friendly little prod 
in the middle with his stockinged foot. 'Stay there, that's a 
good girl, and don't make a noise. I'll come and see to you 
in a minute or two.' Then he lay down on the bed, nuwed 
into the bolster, and after a few preliminary grunts and 
wriggles, relapsed into slumber. 
It was a remarkable procession. First in tattered, field 
grey uniforms came the brass band of the Imperial Guard, 
playing John Brown's Body. 


Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord; 
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath 
are stored; 
He has loosed the mighty lightning of his terrible swift sword; 
His truth is marching on. 


Behind them came the infantry; hard, bare feet rhyth- 
mically kicking up the dust, threadbare uniforms, puttees 
wound up anyhow, caps at all angles, Lee-Enfield rifles with 
fixed bayonets slung on their shoulders; fuzzy heads, joHy 
nigger-minstrel faces, black chests shining through button- 
less tunics, pockets bulging with loot. Dividing these guards- 
men from the irregular troops rode General Connolly on a 
tall, grey mule, with his staff officers beside him. He was a 
stocky Irishman in early middle age who had seen varied 
service in the Black and Tans, the South African Police and 
the Kenya Game Reserves before enlisting under the 
Emperor's colours. But on this morning his appearance was 
rather that of a lost explorer than a conquering commander- 
in-chief. He had a week's growth of reddish beard below 
58 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
his cavalry moustaches; irregular slashes had converted his 
breeches into shorts; open shirt and weather-worn white 
topee took the place of tunic and cap. Field glasses, map case, 
sword and revolver holster hung incongruously round him. 
He was smoking a pipe of rank local tobacco. 
On their heels came the hordes of Wanda and Sakuyu 
warriors. In the hills these had followed in a diffuse rabble. 
Little units of six or a dozen trotted round the stirrups of 
the headmen; before them they drove geese and goats 
pillaged from surrounding farms. Sometimes they squatted 
down to rest; sometimes they ran to catch up. The big chiefs 
had bands of their own - mounted drummers thumping 
great bowls of cowhide and wood, pipers blowing down six- 
foot chanters of bamboo. Here and there a camel swayed 
above the heads of the mob. They were armed with weapons 
of every kind: antiquated rifles, furnished with bandoliers of 
brass cartridges and empty cartridge cases; short hunting 
spears, swords and knives; the great, seven-foot broad- 
bladed spear of the Wanda; behind one chief a slave carried 
a machine-gun under a velvet veil; a few had short bows 
and iron-wood maces of immemorial design. 
The Sakuyu wore their hair in a dense fuzz; their chests 
and arms were embossed with ornamental scars; the Wanda 
had their teeth filed into sharp points, their hair braided 
into dozens of mud-caked pigtails. In accordance with their 
unseemly usage, any who could wore strung round his neck 
the members of a slain enemy. 
As this great host swept down on the city and surged 
through the gates, it broke into a dozen divergent streams, 
spurting and trickling on all sides like water from a rotten 
hose-pipe, forcing out jets of men, mounts and livestock 
into the by-ways and back streets, eddying down the blind 
alleys and into enclosed courts. Solitary musicians, separated 
from their bands, drummed and piped among the straggling 
39 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
crowds; groups split away from the melee and began dancing 
in the alleys; the doors of the liquor shops were broken in 
and a new and nastier element appeared in the carnival, as 
drink -crazed warriors began to re-enact their deeds of 
heroism, bloodily laying about their former comrades-in- 
arms with knives and clubs. 
'God,' said Connolly, 'I shall be glad when I've got this 
menagerie off my hands. 1 wonder if his nibs has really 
bolted. Anything is possible in this abandoned country.' 
No one appeared in the streets. Only rows of furtive eyes 
behind the shuttered windows watched the victors' slow 
progress through the city. In the main square the General 
halted the guards and such of the irregular troops as were still 
amenable to discipline; they squatted on the ground, chewing 
at bits of sugar cane, crunching nuts and polishing their teeth 
with little lengths of stick, while above the drone of confused 
revelling which rose from the side streets, Connolly from 
the saddle of his mule in classical form exhorted his legions. 
'Guards,' he said loudly, 'Chiefs and tribesmen of the 
Azanian Empire. Hear me. You are good men. You have 
fought valiantly for your Emperor. The slaughter was very 
splendid. It is a thing for which your children and your 
children's children will hold you in honour. It was said in 
the camp that the Emperor had gone over the sea. I do not 
know if that is true. If he has, it is to prepare a reward for 
you in the great lands. But it is sufficient reward to a soldier 
to have slain his enemy. 
'Guards, Chiefs and tribesmen of the Azanian Empire. 
The war is over. It is fitting that you should rest and rejoice. 
Two things only 1 charge you are forbidden. The white 
men, their houses, cattle, goods or women you must not take. 
Nor must you burn anything or any of the houses nor pour 
out the petrol in the streets. If any man do this he shall be 
killed. 1 have spoken. Long live the Emperor. 
40 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Go on, you lucky bastards,' he added in English. 'Go 
and make whoopee. 1 must get a brush up and some food 
before I do anything else.' 
He rode across to the Grand Azanian Hotel. It was shut 
and barred. His two servants forced the door and he went in. 
At the best of times, even when the fortnightly Messageries 
liner was in and gay European sightseers paraded every 
corner of the city, the Grand Azanian Hotel had a gloomy 
and unwelcoming air. On this morning a chill of utter 
desolation struck through General Connolly as he passed 
through its empty and darkened rOOms. Every movable 
object had been stripped from walls and floor and stowed 
away subterraneously during the preceding night. But the 
single bath at least was a fixture. Connolly set his servants 
to work pumping water and unpacking his uniform cases. 
Eventually an hour later he emerged, profoundly low in 
spirits, but clean, shaved and very fairly dressed. Then he 
rode towards the fort where the Emperor's colours hung 
limp in the sultry air. No sign of life came from the houses; 
no welcome; no resistance. Marauding bands of his own 
people skulked from corner to corner; once a terrified Indian 
rocketed up from the gutter and shot across his path like a 
rabbit. It was not until he reached the White Fathers' 
mission that he heard news of the Emperor. Here he en- 
countered a vast Canadian priest with white habit and sun- 
hat and spreading crimson beard, who was at that moment 
occupied in shaking almost to death the brigade sergeant- 
major of the Imperial Guard. At the General's approach 
the reverend father released his victim with one hand- 
keeping a firm grip in his woollen hair with the other - re- 
moved the cheroot from his mouth and waved it cordially. 
'Hullo, General, back from the wars, eh? They've been 
very anxious about you in the city. Is this creature part of 
the victorious army?' 


41 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Looks like one of my chaps. What's he been up to?' 
'Up to? I came in from Mass and found him eating my 
breakfast.' A tremendous buffet on the side of his head sent 
the sergeant-major dizzily across the road. 'Don't you let 
me find any more of your fellows hanging round the mission 
today or there'll be trouble. It's always the same when you 
have troops in a town. I remember in Duke Japheth's re- 
bellion, the wretched creatures were all over the place. They 
frightened the sisters terribly over at the fever hospital.' 
'Father, is it true that the Emperor's cut and run?' 
'If he hasn't he's about the only person. 1 had that old 
fraud of an Armenian Archbishop in here the other night, 
trying to make me join him in a motor-boat. I told him I'd 
sooner have my throat cut on dry land than face that crossing 
in an open boat. I'll bet he was sick.' 
'But you don't know where the Emperor is?' 
'He might be over in the fort. He was the other day. Silly 
young ass, pasting up proclamations allover the town. I've 
got other things to bother about than young Seth. And mind 
you keep your miserable savages from my mission or they'll 
know the reason why. I've got a lot of our people camped 
in here so as to be out of harm's way, and 1 am not going 
to have them disturbed. Good morning to you, General.' 
General Connolly rode on. At the fort he found no sentry 
on guard. The courtyard was empty save for the body of 
Ali, which lay on its face in the dust, the cord which had 
strangled him still tightly twined round his neck. Connolly 
turned it over with his boot but failed to recognize the 
swollen and darkened face. 
'So His Imperial Majesty has shot the moon.' 
He looked into the deserted guard-house and the lower 
rooms of the fort; then he climbed the spiral stone staircase 
which led to Seth's room, and here, lying across the camp 
bed in spotted silk pyjamas recently purchased in the Place 
42 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
Vendome, utterly exhausted by the horror and insecurity of 
the preceding night, lay the Emperor of Azania fast asleep. 
From his bed Seth would only hear the first, rudimentary 
statement of his victory. Then he dismissed his commander- 
in-chief and with remarkable self-restraint insisted on per- 
forming a complete and fairly elaborate toilet before giving 
his mind to the details of the situation. When, eventually, 
he came downstairs dressed in the full and untarnished 
uniform of the Imperial Horse Guards, he was in a state of 
some elation. 'You see, Connolly,' he cried, clasping his 
general's hand with warm emotion, 'I was right. I knew that 
it was impossible for us to fail.' 
'We came damn near it once or twice,' said Connolly. 
'Nonsense, my dear fellow. We are Progress and the New 
Age. Nothing can stand in our way. Don't you see? The 
world is already ours; it is our world now, because we are 
of the Present. Seyid and his ramshackle band of brigands 
were the Past. Dark barbarism. A cobweb in a garret; dead 
wood; a whisper echoing in a sunless cave. We are Light 
and Speed and Strength, Steel and Steam, Youth, Today 
and Tomorrow. Don't you see? Our little war was won on 
other fields five centuries back.' The young darky stood 
there transfigured; his eyes shining; his head thrown back; 
tipsy with words. The white man knocked out his pipe on 
the heel of his riding boot and felt for a pouch in his tunic 
pocket. 
'All right, Seth, say it your way. All I know is that my 
little war was won the day before yesterday and by two 
very ancient weapons - lies and the long spear.' 
'But my tank? Was it not that which gave us the victory?' 
'Marx's tin can? A fat lot of use that was. 1 told you you 
were wasting money, but you would have the thing. The 
best thing you can do is to present it to Debra Dowa as a 
war memorial, only you couldn't get it so far. My dear boy, 
43 



44 


.... 
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S '.a 
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 (5 

 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
you can't take a machine like that over this country under 
this sun. The whole thing was red hot after five miles. The 
two poor devils of Greeks who had to drive it nearly went 
off their heads. It c.ame in handy in the end though. "'-IVe 
used it as a punishment cell. It was the one thing these black 
bastards would really take notice of. It's all right getting on 
a high horse about progress now that everything's over. It 
doesn't hurt anyone. But if you want to know, you were as 
near as nothing to losing the whole bag of tricks at the end 
of last week. Do you know what that clever devil Seyid had 
done? Got hold of a photograph of you taken at Oxford in 
cap and gown. He had several thousand printed and circu- 
lated among the guards. Told them you'd deserted the 
Church in England and that there you were in the robes of 
an English Mohammedan. An the mission boys fell for it. 
It was no good telling them. They were going over to the 
enemy in hundreds every night. 1 was all in. There didn't 
seem a damned thing to do. Then I got an idea. You know 
what the name of Amurath means among the tribesmen. 
Well, I called a shari of all the Wanda and Sakuya chiefs 
and spun them the yarn. Told them that Amurath never 
died - which they believed already most of them - but that 
he had crossed the sea to commune with the spirits of his 
ancestors; that you were Amurath, himself, come back in 
another form. It went down from the word go. I wish you 
could have seen their faces. The moment they'd heard the 
news they were mad to be at Seyid there and then. It was all 
I could do to keep them back until I had him where I wanted 
him. What's more, the story got through to the other side 
and in two days we had a couple of thousand of Seyid's boys 
coming over to us. Double what we'd lost on the Mohamme- 
dan story and real fighters - not dressed-up mission boys. 
Well, 1 kept them back as best I could for three days. We 
were on the crest of the hills all the time and Seyid was 
45 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
down in the valley, kicking up the devil burning villages, 
trying to make us come down to him. He was getting 
worried about the desertions. Well, on the third day 1 sent 
half a company of guards down with a band and a whole 
lot of mules and told them to make themselves as con- 
spicuous as they could straight in front of him in the Ukaka 
pass. Trust the guards to do that. He did just what 1 ex- 
pected; thought it was the whole army and spread out on 
both sides trying to surround them. Then 1 let the tribesmen 
in on his rear. My word, I've never seen such a massacre. 
Didn't they enjoy themselves, bless them. Half of them 
haven't come back yet; they're still chasing the poor devils 
all over the hills.' 
'And the usurper Seyid, did he surrender?' 
'Yes, he surrendered all right. But, look here, Seth, I hope 
you aren't going to mind about this, but you see how it was, 
well, you see, Seyid surrendered and . . .' 
'You don't mean you've let him escape?' 
'Oh no, nothing like that, but the fact is, he surrendered 
to a party of Wanda . . . and, well, you know what the 
W 8nda are.' 
'You mean. . .' 
'Yes, I'm afraid so. 1 wouldn't have had it happen for 
anything. I didn't hear about it until afterwards.' 
'They should not have eaten him - after all, he was my 
father . . . It is so . . . so barbarous.' 
'1 knew you'd feel that way about it, Seth, and I'm sorry. 
I gave the headmen twelve hours in the tank for it.' 
'I am afraid that as yet the Wanda are totally out of 
touch with modern thought. They need education. We must 
start some schools and a university for them when we get 
things straight.' 
'That's it, Seth, you can't blame them. It's want of educa- 
tion. That's all it is.' 


46 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'We might start them on Montessori methods,' said Seth 
dreamily. 'You can't blame them.' Then rousing himself: 
'Connolly, I shall make you a Duke.' 
'That's nice of you, Seth. I don't mind so much for my- 
self, but Black Bitch will be pleased as Punch about it.' 
'And, Connolly.' 
'Yes. ' 
'Don't you think that when she is a Duchess, it might be 
more suitable if you were to try and call your wife by 
another name? You see, there will probably be a great in- 
flux of distinguished Europeans for my coronation. We wish 
to break. down colour barriers as far as possible. Your name 
for Mrs Connolly, though suitable as a term of endearment 
in the home, seems to emphasize the racial distinction be- 
tween you in a way which might prove disconcerting.' 
'1 dare say you're right, Seth. I'll try and remember when 
we're in company. But 1 shall always think of her as Black 
Bitch, somehow. By the way, what has become of Ali?' 
'Ali? Yes, 1 had forgotten. He was murdered by Major 
Joab yesterday evening. And that reminds me of something 
else. 1 must order a new crown.' 


47 



Chapter Two 
'Lovey dovey, cat's eyes.' 
'You got that out of a book.' 
'Well, yes. How did you know?' 
'I read it too. It's been all round the compound.' 
'Anyway, I said it as a quotation. We have to fInd new 
things to say somehow sometimes, don't we?' 
William and Prudence rolled apart and lay on their backs, 
sun hats tilted over their noses, shading their eyes from the 
brilliant equatorial sun. They were on the crest of the little 
hills above Debra Dowa; it was cool there, eight thousand 
feet up. Behind them in a stockade of euphorbia trees stood 
a thatched Nestorian shrine. At its door the priest's youngest 
child lay sunning his naked belly, gazing serenely into the 
heavens, indifferent to the flies which settled on the corners 
of his mouth and sauntered across his eyeballs. Below them 
the tin roofs of Debra Dowa and a few thin columns of 
smoke were visible among the blue gums. At a distance the 
Legation syce sat in charge of the ponies. 
'William, darling, there's something so extraordinary on 
your neck. I believe it's two of them.' 
'Well, I think you might knock it off.' 
'I believe it's that kind which sting worst.' 
'Beast.' 
'Oh, it's gone now. It was two.' 
'1 can feel it walking about.' 
'No, darling, that's me. I think you might look some- 
times when I'm being sweet to you. I've invented a new 
way of kissing. You do it with your eyelashes.' 
'I've known that for years. It's called a butterfly kiss.' 
48 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'''Vell you needn't be so high up about it. I only do these 
things for your benefit.' 
'It was very nice, darling. 1 only said it wasn't very new.' 
'I don't believe you liked it at all.' 
'It was so like the stinging thing.' 
'Oh, how maddening it is to have no one to make love 
with except you.' 
'Sophisticated voice.' 
'That's not sophisticated. It's my gramophone record 
voice. My sophisticated voice is quite different. It's like 
this. ' 
'I call that American.' 
'Shall I do my vibrant-with-passion voice?' 
'No.' 
'Oh dear, men are hard to keep amused.' Prudence sat up 
and lit a cigarette. 'I think you're effeminate and under- 
sexed,' she said, 'and I hate you.' 
'That's because you're too young to arouse serious 
emotion. You might give me a cigarette.' 
'I hoped you'd say that. It happens to be the last. Not 
only the last in my pocket but the last in Debra Dowa. I 
got it out of the Envoy Extraordinary's bedroom this morn- 
ing.' 
'Oh Lord, when will this idiotic war be over? We haven't 
had a bag for six weeks. I've run out of hair-wash and de- 
tective stories and now no cigarettes. I think you might give 
me some of that.' 
'1 hope you go bald. Still, I'll let you have the cigarette.' 
'Pru, how sweet of you. 1 never thought you would.' 
'I'm that kind of girl.' 
'1 think I'll give you a kiss.' 
'No, try the new way with eyelashes.' 
'Is that right?' 
'Delicious. Do it some more.' 


B.M.-D 


49 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
Presently they remounted and rode back to the Legation. 
On the way William said: 
'1 hope it doesn't give one a twitch.' 
'What doesn't, darling?' 
'That way with the eyelashes. I've seen people with 
twitches. 1 dare say that's how they got it. There was once 
a man who got run in for winking at girls in the street. So 
he said it was a permanent affliction and he winked all 
through his trial and got off. But the sad thing is that now 
he can't stop and he's been winking ever since.' 
'1 will say one thing for you,' said Prudence. 'You do 
know a lqvely lot of stories. 1 dare say that's why I like you.' 


Thre'tftcrwers - Great Britain, France and the United 
States - maintained permanent diplomatic representatives 
at Debra Dowa. It was not an important appointment. Mr 
Schonbaum, the doyen, had adopted diplomacy late in life. 
Indeed the more formative years of his career had already 
passed before he made up his mind, in view of the uncer- 
tainty of Central European exchanges, to become a citizen 
of the republic he represented. From the age of ten until the 
age of forty he had lived an active life variously engaged in 
journalism, electrical engineering, real estate, cotton brok- 
ing, hotel management, shipping and theatrical promotion. 
At the outbreak of the European war he had retired fIrst to 
the United States, and then, on its entry into the war, to 
Mexico. Soon after the declaration of peace he became an 
American citizen and amused himself in politics. Having 
subscribed largely to a successful Presidential campaign, he 
was offered his choice of several public preferments, of which 
the ministry at Debra Dowa was by far the least prominent 
or lucrative. His European upbringing, however, had in- 
vested diplomacy with a glamour which his later acquain- 
50 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
tance with the great world had never completely dimmed; 
he had made ail the money he needed; the climate at Debra 
Dowa was reputed to be healthy and the environment ro- 
mantic. Accordingly he had chosen that post and had not 
regretted it, enjoying during the last eight years a popularity 
and prestige which he would hardly have attained among 
his own people. 
The French Minister, M. Bailon, was a Freemason. 
His Britannic Majesty's minister, Sir Samson Courteney, 
was a man of singular personal charm and wide culture 
whose comparative ill-success in diplomatic life was attribut- 
able rather to inattention than to incapacity. As a very young 
man he had great things predicted of him. He had passed 
his examinations with a series of papers of outstanding 
brilliance; he had powerful family connections i
 F
ign 
OffIce; but almost from the outset of his career it "became 
apparent that he would disappoint expectations. As third 
secretary at Peking he devoted himself, to the exclusion of 
all other interests, to the construction of a cardboard model 
of the Summer Palace; transferred to Washington he con- 
ceived a sudden enthusiasm for bicycling and would dis- 
appear for days at a time to return dusty but triumphant 
with reports of some broken record for speed or endurance; 
the scandal caused by this hobby culminated in the discovery 
that he had entered his name for an international long- 
distance championship. His uncles at the Foreign Office 
hastily shifted him to Copenhagen, marrying him, on his 
way through London, to the highly suitable daughter of a 
Liberal cabinet minister. It was in Sweden that his career 
was finally doomed. For some time past he had been notice- 
ably silent at the dinner table when foreign languages were 
being spoken; now the shocking truth became apparent that 
he was losing his mastery even of French; many ageing 
diplomats, at loss for a word, could twist the conversation 
51 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
and suit their opinions to their vocabulary; Sir Samson reck- 
lessly improvised or lapsed into a kind of pidgin English. The 
uncles were loyal. He was recalled to London and established 
in a department of the Foreign Office. Finally, at the age 
of fifty, when his daughter Prudence was thirteen years old, 
he was created a Knight of St Michael and St George and 
relegated to Azania. The appointment caused him the 
keenest delight. It would have astonished him to learn that 
anyone considered him unsuccessfu) or that he was known 
throughout the service as the 'Envoy Extraordinary'. 
The Legation lay seven miles out of the capital; a minia- 
ture garden city in a stockaded compound, garrisoned by 
a troop of Indian cavalry. There was wireless communication 
with Aden and a telephone service, of capricious activity, 
to the town. The road, however, was outrageous. For a great 
part of the year it was furrowed by water-courses, encum- 
bered with boulders, landslides and fallen trees, and am- 
bushed by cut-throats. On this matter Sir Samson's pre- 
decessor had addressed numerous remonstrances to the 
Azanian government with the result that several wayfarers 
were hanged under suspicion of brigandage; nothing, how- 
ever, was done about the track; the correspondence con- 
tinued and its conclusion was the most nearly successful 
achievement of Sir Samson's career. Stirred by his appoint- 
ment and zealous for his personal comfort, the Envoy Extra- 
ordinary had, for the first time in his life, thrown himself 
wholeheartedly into a question of public policy. He had 
read through the entire file bearing on the subject and with- 
in a week of presenting his papers, re-opened the question 
in a personal interview with the Prince Consort. Month 
after month he pressed forward the interchange of memo- 
randa between Palace, Legation, Foreign Office and Office 
of Works (the posts of Lord Chamberlain, Foreign Secretary 
and Minister of Works were all, as it happened at that time, 
52 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
occupied by the Nestorian Metropolitan), until one memor- 
able day Prudence returned from her ride to say that a 
caravan of oxen, a load of stones and three chain-gangs of 
convicts had appeared on the road. Here, however, Sir 
Samson suffered a setback. The American commercial 
attache acted, in his ample spare time, as agents for a 
manufacturer of tractors, agricultural machinery and steam- 
rollers. At his representation the convicts were withdrawn 
and the Empress and her circle settled down to the choice 
of a steam-roller. She had always had a weakness for illus- 
trated catalogues and after several weeks' discussion had 
ordered a threshing machine, a lawn mower and a mechani- 
cal saw. About the steam-roller she could not make up her 
mind. The Metropolitan Archbishop (who was working 
with the American attache on a half-commission basis) sup- 
ported a very magnificent engine named Pennsylvania 
Monarch; the Prince Consort, whose personal allowance was 
compromjsed by any public extravagance, headed a party in 
favour of the more modest Kentucky Midget. :Lvieanwhile 
guests to the British Legation were still in most seasons of 
the year obliged to ride out to dinner on mule-back, pre- 
ceded by armed Askaris and a boy with a lantern. It was 
widely believed that a decision was imminent, when the 
Empress's death and the subsequent civil war postponed all 
immediate hope of improvement. The Envoy Extraordinary 
bore the reverse with composure but real pain. He had taken 
the matter to heart and he felt hurt and disillusioned. The 
heap of stones at the roadside remained for him as a con- 
tinual reproach, the monument to his single ineffective 
excursion into statesmanship. 
In its isolation, life in the compound was placid and 
domestic. Lady Courteney devoted herself to gardening. The 
bags came out from London laden with bulbs and cuttings 
and soon there sprang up round the Legation a luxuriant 
53 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
English garden; lilac and lavender, privet and box, grass 
walks and croquet lawn, rockeries and wildernesses, her- 
baceous borders, bowers of rambler roses, puddles of water- 
lilies and an immature maze. 
William Bland, the honorary attache, lived with the 
Courteneys. The rest of the staff were married. The Second 
Secretary had clock golf and the Consul two tennis courts. 
They called each other by their Christian names, pottered 
in and out of each others' bungalows and knew the details of 
each others' housekeeping. The Oriental Secretary, Captain 
Walsh, alone maintained certain reserves. He suffered from 
recurrent malaria and was known to ill-treat his wife. But 
since he was the only member of the Legation who under- 
stood Sakuyu, he was a man of importance, being in frequent 
demand as arbiter in disputes between the domestic servants. 
The unoffIcial British population of Debra Dowa was 
small and rather shady. There was the manager of the bank 
and his wife (who was popularly believed to have an in- 
fection of Indian blood); two subordinate bank clerks; a 
shipper of hides who described himself as President of the 
Azanian Trading Association; a mechanic on the railway 
who was openly married to two Azanians; the Anglican 
Bishop of Debra Dowa and a shifting community of canons 
and curates; the manager of the Eastern Exchange Tele- 
graph Company; and General Connolly. Intercourse be- 
tween them and the Legation was now limited to luncheon 
on Christmas Day, to which all the more respectable were 
invited, and an annual garden party on the King's Birthday 
which was attended by everyone in the town, from the 
Georgian Prince who managed the Perroquet Night Club 
to the Mormon Missionary. This aloofness from the affairs 
of the town was traditional to the Legation, being dictated 
partly by the difficulties of the road and partly by their in- 
herent disinclination to mix with social inferiors. On Lady 
5+ 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
Courteney's first arrival in Debra Dowa she had attempted 
to break down these distinctions, saying that they were 
absurd in so small a community. General Connolly had dined 
twice at the Legation and a friendship seemed to be in bud 
when its flowering was abruptly averted by an informal call 
paid on him by Lady Courteney in his own quarters. She 
had been lunching with the Empress and turned aside on 
her way home to deliver an invitation to croquet. Sentries 
presented arms in the courtyard, a finely uniformed servant 
opened the door, but this dignified passage was interrupted by 
a resolute little Negress in a magenta tea-gown who darted 
across the hall and barred her way to the drawing-room. 
'I am Black Bitch,' she had explained simply. 'What do 
you want in my house?' 
'I am Lady Courteney. I came to see General Connolly.' 
'The General is drunk today and he doesn't want any 
more ladies.' 
After that Connolly was not asked even to Christmas 
luncheon. 
Other less dramatic incidents occurred with most of the 
English community until now, after six years, the Bishop 
was the only resident who ever came to play croquet on 
the Legation lawn. Even his Lordship's visits had become 
less welcome lately. His strength did not enable him to 
accomplish both journeys in the same day, so that an invita- 
tion to luncheon involved also an invitation for the night 
and, usually, to luncheon next day as well. More than this, 
the Envoy Extraordinary found these incursions from the 
outside world increasingly disturbing and exhausting as his 
momentary interest in Azania began to subside. The Bishop 
would insist on talking about Problems and Policy, Welfare, 
Education and Finance. He knew all about native law and 
customs and the relative importance of the various fact. 
at court. He had what Sir Samson considered an osten
 
55 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
habit of referring by name to members of the royal house- 
hold and to provincial governors, whom Sir Samson was 
content to remember as 'the old black fellow who drank so 
much Kummel' or 'that what-do-you-call-him Prudence said 
was like Aunt Sarah' or 'the one with glasses and gold teeth'. 
Besides, the Bishop's croquet was not nearly up to Lega- 
tion standards. 
As it happened, however, they found him at table when, 
twenty minutes late for luncheon, Prudence and William 
returned from their ride. 
'Do you know,' said Lady Courteney, '1 thought for once 
you had been massacred. It would have pleased Monsieur 
BalIan so much. He is always warning me of the danger of 
allowing you to go out alone during the crisis. He was on 
the telephone this morning asking what steps we had taken 
to fortify the Legation. Madame Ballon had made sandbags 
and put them all round the windows. He told me he was 
keeping his last cartridge for Madame BalIan.' 
'Everyone is in a great state of alarm in the town,' said 
the Bishop. 'There are so many rumours. Tell me, Sir Sam- 
son, you do not think really, seriously, there is any danger 
of a massacre?' 
The Envoy Extraordinary said: 'vVe seem to have tinned 
asparagus for luncheon every day. . . I can't think why. . . 
I'm so sorry - you were talking about the massacre. Well, I 
hardly know. I haven't really thought about it . . . Yes, I 
suppose there might be one. I don't see what's to stop them, 
if the fellows take it into their heads. Still 1 dare say it'll 
all blow over, you know. Doesn't do to get worried. . . I 
should have thought we could have grown it ourselves. 
Much better than spending so much time on that Dutch 
garden. So like being on board ship, eating tinned asparagus.' 
':",For some minutes Lady Courteney and Sir Samson dis- 
c
sed the relative advantages of tulips and asparagus. 
56 



BLACK MISCHIEF 


Presently the Bishop said: 'One of the things which brought 
me here this morning was to find out if there was any News. 
If I could take back something certain to the town . . . You 
cannot imagine the distress everyone is in . . . It is the 
silence for so many weeks and the rumours. Up here you 
must at least know what is going on.' 
'News,' said the Envoy Extraordinary. 'News. Well, we've 
generally got quite a lot going on. Let's see, when were you 
here last? You knew that the Anstruthers have decided to 
enter David for Uppingham? Very sensible of them, I think. 
And Percy Legge's sister in England is going to be married 
- the one who was out here staying with them last year - 
you remember her? Betty Anstruther got run away with 
and had a nasty fall the other morning. I thought that pony 
was too strong for the child. What else is there to tell the 
Bishop, my dear?' 
'The Legges' Frigidaire is broken and they can't get it 
mended until after the war. Poor Captain Walsh has been 
laid up with fever again. Prudence began another novel the 
other day. . . or wasn't I to tell about that, darling?' 
'You certainly were not to. And anyway it isn't a novel. 
It's a Panorama of Life. Oh, I've got some news for all of 
you. Percy scored twelve-hundred-and-eighty at bagatelle 
this morning.' 
'No, I say,' said Sir Samson, 'did he really?' 
'Oh, but that was on the chancery table,' said VVilliam. 
'I don't count that. We've all made colossal scores there. 
The pins are bent. I still call mye]even-hundred-and-sixty- 
five at the Anstruthers' a record.' 
For some minutes they discussed the demerits of the 
chancery bagatelJe table. Presently the Bishop said: 
'But is there no news about the war?' 
'No, I don't think so. Can't remember anything particu- 
larly. I leave all that to Walsh, you know, and he's down 
57 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
with fever at the moment. I dare say when he comes back 
we shall hear something. He keeps in touch with all these 
local affairs. . . There were some cables the other day, now I 
come to think of it. Was tbere anything about the war in 
them, William, d'you know?' 
'I can't really say, sir. The truth is we've lost the cipher 
book again.' 
'Awful fellow, William, he's always losing things. What 
would you say if you had a chaplain like that, Bishop? Well, 
as soon as it turns up, get them deciphered, will you? There 
might be something wanting an answer.' 
'Yes, sir.' 
'Oh, and William - I think you ought to get those pins 
put straight on the chancery bagatelle board. It's an awful 
waste of time playing if it doesn't run true.' 


'Golly,' said William to Prudence when they were alone. 
'Wasn't the Envoy on a high horse at luncheon. Telling me 
off right and left. First about the cipher book and then about 
the bagatelle. Too humiliating.' 
'Poor sweet, he was only showing off to the Bishop. He's 
probably frightfully ashamed of himself already.' 
'That's all very well, but why should I be made to look 
a fool just so as he can impress the Bishop?' 
'Sweet, sweet William, please don't be in a rage. It isn't 
my fault if I have a martinet for a father, is it, darling? 
Listen, I've got a whole lot of new ideas for us to try.' 


The Legges and the Anstruthers came across to tea: cu- 
cumber sandwiches, gentleman's relish, hot scones and 
seed-cake. 
'How's Betty after her fall?' 
58 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Rather shaken, poor mite. Arthur wants her to start 
riding again as soon as she can. He's afraid she may lose her 
nerve permanently.' 
'But not on Majesty.' 
'No, we hope Percy will lend her Jumbo for a bit. She 
can't really manage Majesty yet, you know.' 
'More tea, Bishop? How is everyone at the Mission?' 
'Oh dear, how bare the garden is looking. It really is 
heart-breaking. This is just the time it should be at its best. 
But all the antirrhinums are in the bag, heaven knows 
where.' 
'This war is too exasperating. I've been expecting the wool 
for baby's jacket for six weeks. I can't get on with it at all 
and there are only the sleeves to finish. Do you think it 
would look too absurd if I put in th e sleeves in another 
colour?' 
'It might look rather sweet.' 
'More tea, Bishop? I want to hear all about the infant 
school some time.' 
'I've found the cipher book, sir.' 
'Good boy, where was it?' 
'In my collar drawer. I'd been decoding some telegrams 
in bed last week.' 
'Splendid. It doesn't matter as long as it's safe, but 
you know how particular the F.O. are about things like 
that. ' 
'Poor Monsieur Ballon. He's been trying to get an aero- 
plane from Algiers.' 
'Mrs Schonbaum told me that the reason we're all so 
short of supplies is that the' French Legation have been 
buying up everything and storing it in their cellars.' 
'I wonder if they'd like to buy my marmalade. It's been 
rather a failure this year.' 
'More tea, Bishop? I want to talk to you some time about 
59 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
David's confirmation. He's getting such an independent 
mind, I'm sometimes quite frightened what he'll say 
next.' 
'I wonder if you know anytbing about this cable. I can't 
make head or tail of it. It isn't in any of the usual codes. 
Xt to QR3 CH.' 
'Yes, they're all right. It's a move in the chess game 
Percy's playing with Babbit at the F.O. He was wondering 
what had become of it.' 
'Poor Mrs Walsh. Looking quite done up. I'm sure the 
altitude isn't good for her.' 
'I'm sure Uppingham is just the place for David.' 
'More tea, Bishop? I'm sure you must be tired after your 
ride.' 


Sixty miles southward in the Ukaka pass bloody bands 
of Sakuyu warriors played hide-and-seek among the rocks, 
chivvying the last fugitives of the army of Seyid, while 
behind them down the gorge, from cave villages of in- 
caIcuable antiquity, the women crept out to rob the 
dead. 


After tea the Consul looked in and invited Prudence and 
"Villiam over to play tennis. 
'I'm afraid the balls are pretty well worn out. W e'ye had 
some on order for two months. Confound this war.' 
When it was too dark to play, they dropped in on the 
Legges for cocktails, overstayed their time and ran back to 
the Legation to change for dinner. They tossed for first bath. 
Prudence won but William took it. He finished her bath 
salts and they were both very late for dinner. The Bishop, 
as had been feared, stayed the night. After dinner a log fire 
was lit in the hall; the evenings were cold in the hills. Sir 
Samson settled down to his knitting. Anstruther and Legge 
60 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
came in to make up the bridge table with Lady Courteney 
and the Bishop. 
Legation bridge was played in a friendly way. 
'I'll go one small heart.' 
'One no-trump, and I hope you remember what that 
means, partner.' 
'How you two do cheat.' 
'No.' 
'I say, can't you do better than that?' 
'What did you call?' 
'A heart.' 
'Oh, well, I'll go two hearts.' 
'That's better.' 
'Damn, I've forgotten what a no-trump call means. I 
shall have to pass.' 
'No. I'm thinking of riding Vizier with a gag. He's getting 
heavy in the mouth.' 
'No. Then it's you to play, Bishop. It's hopeless using a 
steel bit out here.' 
'I say, what a rotten dummy; is that the best you can do, 
partner?' 
'Well, you wanted me to put you up. If you can make 
the syces water the bit before bridling it's all right.' 
Prudence played the gramophone to William, who lay 
on his back in front of the hearth smoking one of the very 
few remaining cigars. 'Oh dear,' he said, 'when will the 
new records come?' 
'I say, Prudence, do come and look at the jumper. I'm 
starting on the sleeves.' 
'Envoy, you are clever.' 
'Well, it's very exciting. . .' 
'Pretty tune that. I say, is it my turn?' 
'Percy, do attend to the game.' 
'Sorry, anyway I've taken the trick.' 
61 



Prudence and William 


62 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'It was ours already.' 
'No, I say, was it? Put on the other side, Prudence - the 
one about Sex Appeal Sarah.' 
'Percy, it's you to play again. Now trump it this time.' 
'Sorry, no trumps left. Good that about "start off with 
cocktails and end up with Eno' s" .' 


A few miles away at the French Legation the minister and 
the first secretary were discussing the report of the British 
movements which was brought to them every evening by 
Sir Samson's butler. 
'Bishop Goodchild is there again.' 
'Clericalism. ' 
'That is how they keep in touch with the town. He is an 
old fox, Sir Courteney.' 
'It is quite true that they have made no attempt to fortify 
the Legation. I have confirmed it.' 
'No doubt they have made their preparations in another 
quarter. Sir Courteney has been financing Seth.' 
'Without doubt.' 
'I think he is behind the fluctuations of the currency.' 
'They are using a new code. Here is a copy of today's 
telegram. It means nothing to me. Yesterday there was one 
the same.' 
'Kt to QR3 CH. No, that is not one of the ordinary codes. 
You must work on that all night. Pierre will help.' 
'I should not be surprised if Sir Samson were in the pay 
of the Italians.' 
'It is more than likely. The guard has been set?' 
'They have orders to shoot at sight.' 
'Have the alarms been tested?' 
'All are in order.' 
'Excellent. Then 1 will wish you good night.' 
63 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
M. BaIlon ascended the stairs to bed. In his room he first 
tested the steel shutters, then the lock of the door. Then he 
went across to the bed where his wife was already asleep 
and examined the mosquito curtains. He squirted a little Flit 
round the windows and door, sprayed his throat with anti- 
septic and rapidly divested himself of all except his woollen 
cummerbund. He slipped on his pyjamas, examined the 
magazine of his revolver and laid it on the chair at his 
bedside; next to it he placed his watch, electric torch and a 
bottle of Vittel. He slipped another revolver under his 
pillow. He tiptoed to the window and called down softly: 
'Sergeant. ' 
There was a click of heels in the darkness. 'Excellence.' 
'Is all well?' 
'All well, Excellence.' 
M. Bailon moved softly across to the electric switches, 
and before extinguishing the main lamp switched on a 
small electric night-light which shed a faint blue radiance 
throughout the room. Then he cautiously lifted the mos- 
quito curtain, flashed his torch round to make sure that 
there were no insects there, and finally, with a little grunt, 
lay down to sleep. Before losing consciousness his hand felt, 
found and grasped a small carved nut which he kept under 
his bolster in the belief that it would bring him good luck. 


Next morning by eleven o'clock the Bishop had been seen 
off the premises and the British Legation had settled down 
to its normal routine. Lady Courteney was in the potting- 
shed; Sir Samson was in the bath; William, Legge and 
Anstruther were throwing poker dice in the chancery; Pru- 
dence was at work on the third chapter of the Panorama of 
Life. Sex, she wrote in round, irregular characters, is the 
crying out of the Soul for Completion. Presently she crossed 
64 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
out 'fioul' and substituted 'Spirit'; then she inserted 'of 
man', changed it to 'manhood' and substituted 'humanity'. 
Then she took a new sheet of paper and copied out the whole 
sentence. Then she wrote a letter. Sweet William. You looked 
so lovely at breakfast you know all half awake and I wanted 
to pinch you only didn't. Why did you go away at once? 
Saying 'decode'. You know you hadn't got to. I suppose it 
was the Bishop. Darling, he's gone now so come back and 
I will show you something lovely. The Panorama of Life is 
rather a trial to-day. Very literary and abstruse but it won'l 
get any LONGER. Oh dear. Prudence. XXXX. She folded 
this letter very carefully into a three-cornered hat, addressed 
it The Honble William Bland, Attache Honoraire, pres La 
Legation de Grande Bretagne, and sent it down to the chan- 
cery, with instructions to the boy to wait for an answer. 
William scribbled, So sorry darling desperately busy today 
see you at luncheon. Longing to read Panorama. W., and 
threw four kings in two. 
Prudence disconsolately abandoned her fountain pen and 
went out to watch her mother thinning the michaelmas 
daisies. 
Prudence and William had left an inflated india-rubber 
sea-serpent behind them in the bathroom. Sir Samson sat 
in the warm water engrossed with it. He swished it down 
the water and caught it in his toes; he made waves for it; 
he blew it along; he sat on it and let it shoot up suddenly 
to the surface between his thighs; he squeezed some of the 
air out of it and made bubbles. Chance treats of this kind 
made or marred the happiness of the Envoy's day. Soon he 
was rapt in daydream about the pleistocene age, where 
among mists and vast, unpeopled crags schools of deep-sea 
monsters splashed and sported; oh happy fifth day of crea- 
tion, thought the Envoy Extraordinary, oh radiant infant 
sun, newly weaned from the breasts of darkness, oh rich 
B.M.-E 65 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
steam of the soggy continents, oh jolly whales and sea-ser- 
pents frisking in new brine. . . Knocks at the door. William's 
voice outside. 
'Walker's just ridden over, sir. Can you see him?' 
Crude disillusionment. 
Sir Samson returned abruptly to the twentieth century, 
to a stale and crowded world; to a bath grown tepid and 
an india-rubber toy. 'Walker? Never heard of him.' 
'Yes, sir, you know him. The American secretary.' 
'Oh, yes, to be sure. Extraordinary time to call. What on 
earth does the fellow want? If he tries to borrow the tennis 
marker again, tell him it's broken.' 
-'He's just got information about the war. Apparently 
there's been a decisive battle at last.' 
'Oh, well, I'm glad to hear that. Which side won, do you 
know?' 
'He did tell me, but I've forgotten.' 
'Doesn't matter. I'll hear all about it from him. Tell him 
I'll be down directly. Give him a putter and let him play 
clock golf. And you'd better let them know he'Il be staying 
to luncheon.' 
Half an hour later Sir Samson came downstairs and 
greeted Mr Walker. 
'My dear fellow, how good of you to come. 1 couldn't 
get out before; the morning is always rather busy here. I 
hope they've been looking after you properly. I think it's 
about time for a cocktail, William.' 
'The Minister thought that you'd like to have news of 
the battle. We got it on the wireless from Matodi. We tried 
to ring you up yesterday evening but couldn't get through.' 
, No, I always have the telephone disconnected after dinner. 
Must keep some part of the day for oneself, you know.' 
'Of course, we haven't got any full details yet.' 
'Of course not. Still, the war's over, William tells me, and 
66 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
1, for one, am glad. It's been on too long. Very upsetting to 
everything. Let me see, which of them won it?' 
'Seth. ' 
'Ah yes, to be sure. Seth. I'm very glad. He was. . . now 
let me see . . . which was he?' 
'He's the old Empress's son.' 
'Yes, yes, now I've got him. And the Empress, what's 
become of her?' 
'She died last year.' 
'I'm glad. It's very disagreeable for an old lady of her 
age to get involved in all these disturbances. And What's- 
his-name, you know the chap she was married to? He dead, 
too?' 
'Seyid? There's no news of him. I think we may take it 
that we've seen the last of him.' 
'Pity. Nice fellow. Always liked him. By the by, hadn't 
one of the fellows been to school in England?' 
'Yes, that's Seth.' 
'Is it, by Jove. Then he speaks English?' 
'Perfectly. ' 
'That'll be one in the eye for Ballon, after all the trouble 
he took to learn Sakuyu. Here's William with the cocktails.' 
'I'm afraid they won't be up to much this morning, sir. 
We've run out of Peach Brandy.' 
'Well, never mind. It won't be long now before we get 
everything straight again. You must tell us all your news at 
luncheon. 1 hear Mrs Schonbaum's mare is in foal. I'll be 
interested to see how she does. We've never had any luck 
breeding. 1 don't believe the native syces understand blood- 
stock. ' 


At the French Legation, also, news of Seth's victory had 
arrived. 'Ah,' said M. Ballon, 'so the English and the 
67 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
Italians have triumphed. But the game is not over yet. Old 
Bailon is not outwitted yet. There is a trick or two still to 
be won. Sir Samson must look to his laurels.' 
While at that moment the Envoy was saying: 'Of course, 
it's all a question of the altitude. I've not heard of anyone 
growing asparagus up here but I can't see why it shouldn't 
do. We get the most delicious green peas.' 


68 



Chapter Three 
Two days later news of the battle of Ukaka was published 
in Europe. It made very little impression on the million or 
so Londoners who glanced down the columns of their papers 
that evening. 
'Any news in the paper tonight, dear?' 
'No, dear, nothing of interest.' 


'Azania? That's part of Africa, ain't it?' 
'Ask Lil, she was at school last.' 
'Lil, where's Azania?' 
'I don't know, father.' 
'What do they teach you at school, I'd like to know.' 


'Only niggers.' 


'It came in a cross-word quite lately. Independenl native 
principality. You would have it it was Turkey.' 


'Azania? It sounds like a Cunarder to me.' 
'But, my dear, surely you remember that madlyattrac- 
tive blackamoor at Balliol.' 


'Run up and see if you can find the atlas, deary . . . 
69 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
Yes, where it always IS, behind the stand in father's 
study. ' 


'Things look quieter in East Africa. That Azanian busi- 
ness cleared up at last.' 


'Care to see the evening paper? There's nothing in it.' 


In Fleet Street, in the offices of the daily papers: 'Randall, 
there might be a story in the Azanian cable. The new bloke 
was at Oxford. See what there is to it.' 
Mr Randall typed: His Majesty B.A. . . . ex-undergrad 
among the cannibals . . . scholar emperor's desPerate bid for 
throne. . . barbaric splendour . . . conquering hordes. . . ivory 
. . . . elephants . . . east meets west . . . 


'Sanders. Kill that Azanian story in the London edition.' 


'Anything in the paper this morning?' 
'No, dear, nothing of interest.' 


Late in the afternoon Basil Seal read the news on the 
Imperial and Foreign page of The Times as he stopped at 
his club on the way to Lady Metroland's to cash a bad 
cheque. 
For the last four days Basil had been on a racket. He 
had woken up an hour ago on the sofa of a totally strange 
flat. There was a gramophone playing. A lady in a dressing 
jacket sat in an armchair by the gas-fire, eating sardines 
70 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
from the tin with a shoe-horn. An unknown man in'" shirt- 
sleeves was shaving, the glass propped on the chimneypiece. 
The man had said: 'Now you're awake you'd better go.' 
The woman: 'Quite thought you were dead.' 
Basil: '1 can't think why I'm here.' 
'1 can't think why you don't go.' 
'Isn't London hell?' 
'Did 1 have a hat?' 
'That's what caused half the trouble.' 
'What trouble?' 
'Oh, why don't you go?' 
So Basil had gone down the stairs, which were covered 
in worn linoleum, and emerged through the side door of 
a shop into a busy street which proved to be King's Road, 
Chelsea. 
Incidents of this kind constantly occurred when Basil was 
on a racket. 
At the club he found a very old member sitting before 
the fire with tea and hot muffins. He opened The Times 
and sat on the leather-topped fender. 
'You see the news from Azania?' 
The elderly member was startled by the suddenness of 
his address. 'No. . . no . . . I am afraid 1 can't really say that 
1 have.' 
'Seth has won the war.' 
'Indeed. . . well, to tell you the truth 1 haven't been 
following the affair very closely.' 
'Very interesting.' 
'No doubt.' 
'1 never thought things would turn out quite in this way, 
did you?' 
'1 can't say I've given the matter any thought.' 
'Well, fundamentally it is an issue between the Arabs 
and the christianized Sakuyu.' 
71 



BLACK MISCHIEF 


'I see.' 
'I think the mistake we made was to underestimate the 
prestige of the dynasty.' 
'Oh. ' 
'As a matter of fact, I've never been satisfied in my mind 
about the legitimacy of the old Empress.' 
'My dear young man, no doubt you have some particular 
interest in the affairs of this place. Pray understand that I 
know nothing at all about it and that I feel it is too late in 
the day for me to start improving my knowledge.' 
The old man shifted himself in his chair away from 
Basil's scrutiny and began reading his book. A page came 
in with the message: 'No reply from either of those num- 
bers, sir.' 
'Don't you hate London?' 
'Eh?' 
'Don't you hate London?' 
'No, 1 do not. Lived here all my life. Never get tired of 
it. Fellow who's tired of London is tired of life.' 
'Don't you believe it,' said Basil. 
'I'm going away for some time,' he told the hall-porter 
as he left the club. 
'Very good, sir. What shall I do about correspondence?' 
'Destroy it.' 
'Very good, sir.' Mr Seal was a puzzle to him. He never 
could forget Mr Seal's father. He had been a member of 
the club. Such a different gentleman. So spick and span, 
never without silk hat and an orchid in his buttonhole. Chief 
Conservative Whip for twenty-five years. Who would have 
thought of him having a son like Mr Seal? Out of town 
until further notice. No letters forwarded he entered against 
Basil's name in his ledger. Presently the old gentleman 
emerged from the smoking-room. 
'Arthur, is that young man a member here?' 
72 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Mr Seal, sir? Oh yes, sir.' 
'''Vhat d'you say his name is?' 
'Mr Basil Seal.' 
'Basil Seal, eh? Basil Seal. Not Christopher Seal's son?' 
'Yes, sir.' 
'Is he now? Poor old Seal. 'Pon my soul, what a sad 
thing. Who'd have thought of that? Seal of all people. . .' 
and he shuffled back into the smoking-room, to the fire and 
his muffins, full of the comfort that glows in the hearts of 
old men when they contemplate the misfortunes of their 
contemporaries. 
Basil walked across Piccadilly and up to Curzon Street. 
Lady Metroland was giving a cocktail party. 
'Basil,' she said, 'you had no business to come. I particu- 
larly didn't ask you.' 
'1 know. I only heard you had a party quite indirectly. 
\'Vhat I've really come for is to see if my sister is here.' 
'Barbara? She may be. She said she was coming. How 
horrible you look.' 
, Dirty?' 
'Yes. ' 
'Not shaven?' 
'No.' 
'\Vell, I've only just woken up. 1 haven't been home yet.' 
He looked round the room. 'All the same people. You don't 
make many new friends, Margot.' 
'I hear you've given up your constituency?' 
'Yes, in a way. It wasn't worth while. I told the P.M. 
I wasn't prepared to fight on the tariff issue. He had a 
chance to hold over the bill but the Outrage section were 
too strong so I threw in my hand. Besides, I want to go 
abroad. I've been in England too long.' 
'Cocktail, sir.' 
'No, bring me a Pernod and water will you? . . . there 
73 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
isn't any? Oh well, whisky. Bring it into the study. 1 want 
to go and telephone. I'll be back soon, Margot.' 
'God, what I feel about that young man,' said Lady 
Metroland. 
Two girls were talking about him. 
'Such a lovely person.' 
"¥here?' 
'Just gone out.' 
'You don't mean Basil Seal?' 
'Do I?' 
'Horrible clothes, black hair over his face.' 
'Yes, tell me about him.' 
'My dear, he's enchanting. . . Barbara Sotbill's brother, 
you know. He's been in hot water lately. He'd been adopted 
as candidate somewhere in the West. Father says he was 
bound to get in at the next election. Angela Lyne was pay- 
ing his expenses. But they had trouble over something. You 
know how careful Angela is. 1 never thought Basil was 
really her tea. They never quite made sense, 1 mean, did 
they? So that's all over.' 
'It's nice his being so dirty.' 
Other people discussed him. 
'No, the truth about Basil is just that he's a bore. No one 
minds him being rude, but he's so teaching. I had him next 
to me at dinner once and he would talk all the time about 
Indian dialects. Well, what was one to say? And I asked 
afterwards and apparently he doesn't know anything about 
them either.' 
'He's done all kinds of odd things.' 
'Well, yes, and 1 think that's so boring too. Always in 
revolutions and murders and things, I mean, what is one 
to say? Poor Angela is literally off her head with him. 1 was 
there yesterday and she could talk of nothing else but the 
row he's had with his committee in his constituency. He 
74 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
does seem to have behaved rather oddly at the Conservative 
ball and then he and Alastair Trumpington and Peter Past- 
master and some others had a five-day party up there and 
left a lot of bad cheques behind and had a motor accident 
and one-of them got run in - you know what Basil's parties 
are. 1 mean, that sort of thing is all right in London, but 
you know what provincial towns are. So what with one thing 
and another they've asked him to stand down. The trouble 
is that poor Angela still fancies him rather.' 
'What's going to happen to him?' 
'1 know. That's the point. Barbara says she won't do 
another thing for him.' 
Someone else was saying, 'I've given up trying to be nice 
to Basil. He either cuts me or corners me with an inter- 
minable lecture about Asiatic politics. It's odd Margot having 
him here - particularly after the way he's always getting 
Peter involved.' 
Presently Basil came back from telephoning. He stood 
in the doorway, a glass of whisky in one hand, looking 
insolently round the room, his head back, chin forward, 
shoulders rounded, dark hair over his forehead, contemp- 
tuous grey eyes over grey pouches, a proud, rather childish 
mouth, a scar on one cheek. 
'My word, he is a corker,' remarked one of the girls. 
His glance travelled round the room. 'I'll tell you who 1 
want to see, Margot. Is Rex Monomark here?' 
'He's over there somewhere, but, Basil, 1 absolutely forbid 
you to tease him.' 
'I won't tease him.' 
Lord Monomark, owner of many newspapers, stood at 
the far end of the drawing-room discussing diet. Round 
him in a haze of cigar smoke were ranged his ladies and 
gentlemen in attendance: three almost freakish beauties, 
austerely smart, their exquisite, irregular features eloquent 
75 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
of respect; two gross men of the world, wheezing apprecia- 
tion; a dapper elderly secretary, with pink, bald pate and 
in his eyes that glazed, gin-fogged look that is common to 
sailors and the secretaries of the great, and comes from too 
short sleep. 
'Two raw onions and a plate of oatmeal porridge,' said 
Lord Monomark. 'That's alll've taken for luncheon in the 
last eight months. And I feel two hundred per cent better - 
physically, intellectually and ethically.' 
The group was slightly isolated from the rest of the party. 
It was very rarely that Lord Monomark consented to leave 
his own house and appear as a guest. The few close friends 
whom he honoured in this way observed certain strict con- 
ventions in the matter: new people were not to be introduced 
to him except at his own command; politicians were to be 
kept at a distance; his cronies of the moment were to be 
invited with him; provision had to be made for whatever 
health system he happened to be following. In these condi- 
tions he liked now and then to appear in society - an un- 
disguised Haroun aI-Rashid among his townspeople - to 
survey the shadow-play of fashion, and occasionally to in- 
dulge the caprice of singling out one of these bodiless phan- 
toms and translating her or him into the robust reality of 
his own world. His fellow guests, meanwhile, flitted in and 
out as though unconscious of his presence, avoiding any 
appearance of impinging on the integrity of this glittering 
circle. 
'If I had my way', said Lord Monomark, 'I'd make it 
compulsory throughout the country. I've had a notice 
drafted and sent round the office recommending the system. 
Half the fellows think nothing of spending one and six or 
two shillings on lunch every day - that's out of eight or nine 
pounds a week.' 
'Rex, you're wonderful.' 


76 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Read it out to Lady Everyman, Sanders.' 
'Lord Monomark wishes forcibly to bring to the attention 
of his staff the advantages to be derived from a carefully 
chosen diet . . .' Basil genially intruded himself into the 
party. 
"Vell, Rex, I thought I'd find you here. It's all stuff 
about that onion and porridge diet, you know. Griffenbach 
exploded that when I was in Vienna three years ago. But 
that's not really what I came to talk about.' 
'Oh, Seal, isn't it? I've not seen you for a long time. I 
remember now you wrote to me some time ago. What was 
it about, Sanders?' 
, Afghanistan.' 
'Yes, of course. I turned it over to one of my editors to 
answer. I hope he explained.' 
Once, when Basil had been a young man of promise, Lord 
Monomark had considered taking him up and invited him 
for a cruise in the Mediterranean. Basil at first refused and 
then, after they had sailed, announced by wireless his inten- 
tion of joining the yacht at Barce]ona; Lord Monomark's 
party had waited there for two sultry days without hearing 
news and then sailed without him. When they next met in 
London Basil eXplained rather inadequately that he had 
found at the last minute he couldn't manage it after all. 
Countless incidents of this kind had contributed to Basil's 
present depreciated popularity. 
'Look here, Rex,' he said, 'what I want to know is what 
you're going to do about Seth.' 
'Seth?' Lord Monomark turned an inquiring glance on 
Sanders. 'What am I doing about Seth?' 
, Seth?' 
'It seems to me there's an extremely tricky political situa- 
tion developing there. You've seen the news from Ukaka. 
It doesn't tell one a thing. I want to get some first-hand 
77 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
information. I'm probably sailing almost at once. It occurred 
to me that I might cover it for you in the Excess.' 
Towards the end of this speech, Lord Monomark's bewil- 
derment was suddenly illumined. This was nothing unusual 
after all. It was simply someone after a job. 'Oh,' he said, 
'I'm afraid I don't interfere with the minor personnel of 
the paper. You'd better go and see one of the editors about 
it. But I don't think you'll find him anxious to take on new 
staff at the moment.' 
'I'll tell them you sent me.' 
'No, no, I never interfere. You must just approach them 
through the normal channels.' 
'All right. I'll come up and see you after I've fixed it up. 
Oh, and I'll send you Griffenbach's report on the onion 
and porridge diet if I can find it. There's my sister. I've got 
to go and talk to her now, I'm afraid. See you before I sail.' 
Barbara Sothill no longer regarded her brother with the 
hero-worship which had coloured the first twenty years of 
her life. 
'Basil,' she said. 'What on earth have you been doing? 
1 was lunching at mother's today and she was wild about 
you. She's got one of her dinner parties and you promised 
to be in. She said you hadn't been home all night and she 
didn't know whether to get another man or not.' 
'1 was on a racket. We began at Lottie Crump's. I rather 
forget what happened except that Allan got beaten up by 
some chaps.' 
'And she's just heard about the committee.' 
'Oh that. I meant to give up the constituency anyhow. 
It's no catch being in the Commons now. I'm thinking of 
going to Azania.' 
'Oh, were you? - and what'll you do there?' 
'Well, Rex Monomark wants me to represent the Excess, 
but I think as a matter of fact I shall be better off if 1 keep 
78 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
a perfectly free hand. The only thing is I shall need some 
money. D'you think our mother will fork out five hundred 
pounds?' 
'I'm sure she won't.' 
'Well, someone'll have to. To tell you the truth I can't 
very well stay on in England at the moment. Things have 
got into rather a crisis. I suppose you wouldn't like to give 
me some money.' 
'Oh, Basil, what's the good? You know I can't do it ex- 
cept by getting it from Freddy and he was furious last time.' 
'1 can't think why. He's got packets.' 
'Yes, but you might try and be a little polite to him some- 
times - just in public I mean.' 
'Oh, of course if he thinks that by lending me a few 
pounds he's setting himself up for life as a good fellow. . .' 


In the days when Sir Christopher was Chief Whip, Lady 
Seal had entertained frequently and with relish. Now, in 
her widowhood, with Barbara successfully married and her 
sons dispersed, she limited herself to four or five dinner 
parties every year. There was nothing elastic or informal 
about these occasions. Lady Metroland was a comparatively 
rich woman and it was her habit when she was tired to say 
casually to her butler at cocktail time, '1 am not going out 
to-night. There will be about twenty to dinner,' and then to 
sit down to the telephone and invite her guests, saying to 
each, 'Oh, but you must chuck them tonight. I'm all alone 
and feeling like death.' Not so Lady Seal, who dispatched 
engraved cards of invitation a month in advance, supplied 
defections from a secondary list one week later, fidgeted 
with place cards and a leather board as soon as the accept- 
ances began to arrive, borrowed her sister's chef and her 
daughter's footmen and on the morning of the party 
79 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
exhausted herself utterly by trotting allover her house in 
Lowndes Square arranging flowers. Then at half-past five 
when she was satisfied that all was ready she would retire 
to bed and doze for two hours in her darkened room; her 
maid would call her with cachet Faivre and clear China 
tea; a touch of ammonia in the bath; a touch of rouge on 
the cheeks; lavender water behind the ears; half an hour 
before the glass, fiddling with her jewel case while her hair 
was being done; final conference with the butler; then a 
happy smile in the drawing-room for all who were less than 
twenty minutes late. The menu always included lobster 
cream, saddle of mutton and brown-bread ice, and there 
were silver-gilt dishes ranged down the table holding a 
special kind of bonbon supplied to Lady Seal for twenty 
years by a little French shop whose name she would some- 
times coyly disclose. 
Basil arrived among the first guests. There was carpet on 
the steps; the doors opened with unusual promptness; the 
hall seemed full of chrysanthemums and footmen. 
'Hullo, her ladyship got a party? I forgot all about it. I'd 
better change.' 
'Frank couldn't find your evening clothes, Mr Basil. I 
don't think you can have brought them back last time you 
went away. I don't think her Ladyship is expecting you to 
dinner.' 
'Anyone asked for me?' 
'There were two persons, sir.' 
'Duns?' 
'I couldn't say, sir. I told them that we had no information 
about your whereabouts.' 
'Quite right.' 
'Mrs Lyne rang up fifteen times, sir. She left no message.' 
'If anyone else wants me, tell them I've gone to Azania.' 
'Sir?' 


80 



BLACK MISCHIEF 


, Azania. ' 
, Abroad?' 
'Yes, if you like.' 
'Excuse me, Mr Basil. . . .' 
The Duke and Duchess of Stayle had arrived. The 
Duchess said, 'So you are not dining with us tonight. You 
young men are all so busy nowadays. No time for going 
out. I hear things are going very well up in your constitu- 
ency.' She was often behindhand with her news. As they 
went up the Duke said, 'Clever young fellow that. Wonder 
if he'll ever come to anything though.' 
Basil went into the dark little study next to the front door 
and rang up the Trumpingtons. 
'Sonia, are you and Alastair doing anything tonight?' 
'We're at home. Basil, what have you been doing to 
Alastair? I'm furious with you. I think he's going to die.' 
'We had rather a racket. Shall I come to dinner?' 
'Yes, do. We're in bed.' 
He drove to Montagu Square and was shown up to their 
room. They lay in a vast, low bed, with a backgammon 
board between them. Each had a separate telephone, on 
the tables at the side, and by the telephone a goblet of 
'black velvet'. A bull terrier and chow flirted on their 
feet. There were other people in the room: one playing the 
gramophone, one reading, one trying Sonia's face things at 
the dressing-table. Sonia said, 'It's such a waste not going 
out after dark. We have to stay in all day because of 
duns.' 
Alastair said, 'We can't have dinner with these infernal 
dogs all over the place.' 
Sonia: 'You're a cheerful chap to be in bed with, aren't 
you?' and to the dog, 'Was 00 called infernal woggie by 
owid man? Oh God, he's made a mess again.' 
Alastair: 'Are those chaps staying to dinner?' 
B.M.-F 81 



BLACK MISCHIEf 


'We asked one.' 
'Which?' 
'Basil.' 
'Don't mind him, but all those others.' 
'I do hope not.' 
They said: 'Afraid we'll have to. It's so late to go any- 
where else.' 
Basil: 'How dirty the bed is, Sonia.' 
'I know. It's Alastair's dog. Anyway, you're a nice one to 
talk about dirt.' 
'Isn't London hell?' 
Alastair: '1 don't, anyway, see why those chaps shouldn't 
have dinner downstairs.' 
They said: 'It would be more comfortable.' 
'What are their names?' 
'One we picked up last night. The other has been staying 
here for days.' 
'It's not only the expense I mind. They're boring.' 
They said: 'We wouldn't stay a moment if we had any- 
where else to go.' 
'Ring for dinner, sweet. I forget what there is, but I 
know it's rather good. I ordered it myself.' 
There was whitebait, grilled kidneys and toasted cheese. 
Basil sat between them on the bed and they ate from their 
knees. Sonia threw a kidney to the dogs and they began a 
fight. 
Alastair: 'It's no good. I can't eat anything.' 
Sonia's maid brought in the trays. She asked her: 'How 
are the gentlemen getting on downstairs?' 
'They asked for champagne.' 
'I suppose they'd better have it. It's very bad.' 
Alastair: 'It's very good.' 
'Well it tasted awful to me. Basil, sweety, what's your 
news?' 


82 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'I'm going to Azania.' 
'Can't say I know much about that. Is it far?' 
'Yes. ' 
'Fun?' 
'Yes.' 
'Oh, Alastair, why not us too?' 
'Hell, now those dogs have upset everything again.' 
'How pompous you're being.' 
After dinner they all played happy families. 'Have YO\! 
got Miss Chips the Carpenter's daughter?' 
'Not at home but have you got Mr Chips the Carpenter? 
Thank you and Mrs Chips the Carpenter's wife? Thank 
you and Basil have you got Miss Chips? Thank you. That's 
the Chips family.' 
Basil left early so as to see his mother before she went to 
bed. 
Sonia said, 'Good-bye, darling. Write to me from where- 
ever it is. Only 1 don't expect we'll be living here much 
longer. ' 
One of the young men said: 'Could you lend me a fiver? 
I've a date at the Cafe de Paris.' 
'No, you'd better ask Sonia.' 
'But it's so boring. I'm always borrowing money from 
her.' 


In the course of the evening Lady Seal had found time 
to touch her old friend Sir Joseph Mannering on the sleeve 
and say, 'Don't go at once, Jo. I'd like to talk to you after- 
wards.' As the last guests left he came across to the fireplace, 
hands behind his coat-tails and on his face an expression of 
wisdom, discretion, sympathy, experience and contentment. 
He was a self-assured old booby who in the easy and digni- 
fied role of family friend was invoked to aggravate most of 
83 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
the awkward situations that occurred in the lives of his 
circle. 
'A delightful evening, Cynthia, typically delightful. I 
sometimes think that yours is the only house in London now- 
adays where I can be sure both of the claret and the com- 
pany. But you wanted to consult me. Not, I hope, that little 
trouble of Barbara's.' 
'No, it's nothing about Barbara. "Vhat's the child been 
doing?' 
'Nothing, nothing. It was just some idle bit of gossip I 
heard. I'm glad it isn't worrying you. I suppose Basil's been 
up to some mischief again.' 
'Exactly, Jo. I'm at my wits' end with the boy. But what 
was it about Barbara?' 
'Come, come, we can't fuss about too many things. I did 
hear Basil had been up to something. Of course there's 
plenty of good in the boy. It only wants bringing out.' 
'I sometimes doubt it.' 
'Now, Cynthia, you're overwrought. Tell me exactly what 
has been happening.' 
It took Lady Seal some time to deliver herself of the tale 
of Basil's misdemeanours. '. . . if his father were alive. . . 
spent all the money his Aunt left him on that idiotic ex- 
pedition to Afghanistan. .. give him a very handsome 
allowance . . . all and more than all that I can afford . . . 
paid his debts again and again. . . no gratitude. . . no se]f- 
control. . . no longer a child, twenty-eight this year. . . 
his father . . . the post kind Sir William secured him in the 
bank in Brazil. . . great opening and such interesting work 
. . . never went to the office once . . . never know where or 
whom he is with . . . most undesirable friends, Sonia Trum- 
pington, Peter Pastmaster, all sorts of people whose names 
I've never even heard . . . of course I couldn't really approve 
of his going about so much with Mrs Lyne - though I dare 
84 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
say there was nothing wrong in it - but at least I hoped she 
might steady him a little. . . stand for Parliament. . . his 
father . . . behaved in the most irresponsible way in the 
heart of his constituency . . . Prime Minister . . . Central 
Office. . . Sonia Trumpington threw it at the mayor. . . 
Conservative ball. . . one of them actually arrested. . . 
come to the end, Jo . . . I've made up my mind. I won't do 
another thing for Wm - it's not fair on Tony that 1 should 
spend all the money on Basil that should go to them equally 
. . . marry and settle down. . . if his father were alive. . . 
it isn't even as though he were the kind of man who would 
do in Kenya,' she concluded hopelessly. 
Throughout the narration Sir Joseph maintained his air of 
wisdom, discretion, sympathy, experience and contentment; 
at suitable moments he nodded and uttered little grunts of 
comprehension. At length he said: 'My dear Cynthia. I had 
no idea it was as bad as that. What a terrible time you have 
had and how brave you have been. But you mustn't let your- 
self worry. I dare say even this disagreeable incident may 
turn to good. It may very likely be the turning-point in the 
boy's life . . . Learned his lesson. I shouldn't wonder if the 
reason he hasn't come home is that he's ashamed to face you. 
I tell you what, 1 think I'd better have a talk to him. Send 
him round as soon as you get into touch with him. I'll take 
him to lunch at the club. He'll probably take advice from a 
man he might resent from a woman. Didn't he begin read- 
ing for the Bar once? Well, let's set him going at that. Keep 
him at home. Don't give him enough money to go about. 
Let him bring his friends here. Then he'll only be able to 
have friends he's willing to introduce to you. We'll try and 
get him into a different set. He didn't go to any dances all 
last summer, 1 remember you telling me. Heaps of jolly 
girls coming out he hasn't had the chance of meeting yet. 
Keep him to his work. The boy's got brains, bound to find it 
85 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
interesting. Then when you're convinced he's steadied up a 
bit, let him have chambers of his own in one of the Inns of 
Court. Let him feel you trust him. I'm sure he'll respond. . .' 
For nearly half an hour they planned Basil's future, punc- 
tually rewarding each stage of his moral recuperation. Pre- 
sently Lady Seal said: 'Oh Jo, what a help you are. 1 don't 
know what I should do without you.' 
'Dear Cynthia, it is one of the privileges of maturity to 
bring new strength and beauty to old friendships.' 
'1 shan't forget how wonderful you've been tonight, Jo.' 
The old boy bounced back in his taxi-cab to St James's and 
Lady Seal slowly ascended the stairs to her room; both warm 
at heart and aglow from their fire-lit, nursery game of 'let's 
pretend'. She sat before her bedroom fire, slipped off her 
dress and rang the bell beside the chimney-piece. 
'PH have my milk now, Bradshawe, and then go straight 
to bed.' 
The maid lifted the jug from the fender where it had been 
keeping warm and deftly held back the skin with a sil ver 
apostle-spoon as she poured the hot milk into a glass. TheD 
she brought the jewel case and held it while wearily, one by 
one, the rings, bracelet, necklace and earrings were slipped 
off and tumbled in. Then she began taking the pins from her 
mistress's hair. Lady Seal held the glass in both hands and 
sipped. 
'Don't trouble to brush it very long tonight, I'm tired.' 
'1 hope the party was a success, my lady.' 
'1 suppose so. Yes, I'm sure it was. Captain Cruttwell is 
very silly, but it was kind of him to come at all at such short 
notice.' 
'It's the first time Her Grace's youngest daughter has 
been to dinner?' 
'Yes, 1 think it is. The child looked very well, I thought, 
and talked all the time.' 


86 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
Lady Seal sipped the hot milk, her thoughts still wander- 
ing innocently in the soft places where Sir Joseph had set 
them. She saw Basil hurrying to work in the morning, by 
bus at first, later - when he had proved his sincerity - he 
should have a two-seater car; he would be soberly but 
smartly dressed and carry some kind of business-like attache- 
case or leather satchel with him. He would generally have 
papers to go through before changing for dinner. They 
would dine together and afterwards often go out to the 
theatre or cinema. He would eat with good appetite, having 
lunched quickly and economically at some place near his 
work. Quite often she would entertain for him, small young 
people's parties of six or eight - intelligent, presentable men 
of his own age, pretty, wen-bred girls. During the season he 
would go to two dances a week, and leave them early. . . 
'Bradshawe, where is the spoon? It's forming a skin again.' 
. . . Later she went to tea with him in his rooms in Lincoln's 
Inn. He lifted a pile of books from the armchair before she 
sat down. 'I've brought you a looking-glass.' 'Oh, Mother, 
how sweet of you.' '1 saw it in Helena's shop this morning 
and thought it just the thing to go over your fire. It will 
lighten the room. It's got a piece chipped off in one place but 
it is a good one.' '1 must try it at once.' 'It's down in the car, 
dear. Tell Andrews to bring it up. . .' 
A knock at the door. 
'What can they want at this time? See who it is, Brad- 
shawe.' 
'Mr Basil, my lady.' 
'Oh, dear.' 
Basil came in, so unlike the barrister of her dream that it 
required an effort to recognize him. 
'I'll ring for you in a few minutes, Bradshawe . . . Basil, 1 
really can't talk to you now. I have a great deal to say and 
1 am very tired. Where have you been?' 
87 



BLACK MISCHIEF 


'Different places.' 
'You might have let me know. I expected you at dinner.' 
'Had to go and dine with Alastair and Sonia. Was the 
party a success?' 
'Yes, I think so, so far as can be expected. I had to ask poor 
Toby Cruttwell. Who else was there 1 could ask at the last 
moment? 1 do wish you wouldn't fiddle with things. Shut 
the jewel case like a good boy.' 
'By the way, I've given up politics; did you know?' 
'Yes, 1 am most distressed about the whole business- 
vexed and distressed, but 1 can't discuss it now. I'm so tired. 
It's all arranged. You are to lunch with Sir Joseph Manner- 
ing at his club and he will explain everything. You are to 
meet some new girls and later have tea - I mean rooms - in' 
Lincoln's Inn. You'll like that, won't you, dear? Only you 
mustn't ask about it now.' 
'What I came to say is that I'm just off to Azania.' 
'No, no, dear boy. You are to lunch with Jo at The 
Travellers'. ' 
'And I shall need some money.' 
'It's all decided.' 
'You see I'm fed up with London and English politics. I 
want to get away. Azania is the obvious place. I had the 
Emperor to lunch once at Oxford. Amusing chap. The thing 
is this,' said Basil, scratching in his pipe with a delicate pair 
of gold manicure scissors from the dressing-table. 'Every 
year or so there's one place in the globe worth going to 
where things are happening. The secret is to find out where 
and be on the spot in time.' 
'Basil dear, not with the scissors.' 
'History doesn't happen everywhere at once. Azania is 
going to be terrific. Anyway, I'm off there to-morrow. Flying 
to Marseilles and catching the Messageries ship. Only I 
must raise at least five hundred before I start. Barbara 
88 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
wanted to give it to me but 1 thought the simplest thing was 
to compound for my year's allowance. There may be a few 
debts that'll want settling while I'm away. I thought of 
giving you a power of a.ttorney . . .' 
'Dear boy, you are talking nonsense. When you've had 
luncheon with Sir Joseph you'll understand. We']] get into 
touch with him first thing in the morning. Meanwhile run 
along and get a good night's sleep. You aren't looking at all 
well, you know.' 
'1 must have at least three hundred.' 
'There. I've rung for Bradshawe. You'll forget all about 
this place in the morning. Good night, darJing boy. The 
servants have gone up. Don't leave the lights burning down- 
stairs, will you?' 
So Lady Seal undressed and sank at last luxuriously into 
bed. Bradshawe softly paddled round the room performing 
the last offices; she picked up the evening gown, the under- 
clothes, and the stockings, and carried them outside to her 
workroom; she straightened the things on the dressing-table, 
shut the drawers, wiped the points of the nail scissors with 
a wad of cotton; she opened the windows four inches at the 
top, banked up the fire with a shovelful of small coal, 
hitched on the wire guard, set a bottle of Vichy water and a 
glass on the chamber cupboard beside the bed and stood at 
the door, one hand holding the milk tray, the other on the 
electric switch. 
'Is that everything for the night, my lady?' 
'That's an, Bradshawe. I'll ring in the morning. Good 
night. ' 
'Good night, my lady.' 


Basil went back to the telephone and called Mrs Lyne. A 
soft, slight]y impatient voice answered him. 'Yes, who is it?' 
89 



BLACK MISCHIEF 


'Basil. ' 
A pause. 
'Rullo, are you there, Angela? Basil speaking.' 
'Yes, darling, 1 heard. Only I didn't quite know what to 
say . . . I've just got in . . . Such a dull evening . . . I rang 
you up today . . . couldn't get on to you.' 
'How odd you sound.' 
'Well, yes. . . why did you ring up? It's late.' 
'I'm coming round to see you.' 
'My dear, you can't possibly.' 
'1 was going to say good-bye - I'm going away for some 
time.' 
'Yes, I suppose that's a good thing.' 
'Wen, don't you want me to come?' 
'You'll have to be sweet to me. You see I've been in rather 
a muddle lately. You will be sweet, darling, won't you? I 
don't think I could bear it if you weren't.' 
And later, as they lay on their backs smoking, her foot 
just touching his under the sheets, Angela interrupted him 
to say: 'How would it be if, just for a little, we didn't talk 
about this island? . . . I'm going to find things different 
when you've gone.' 
'I'm mad for it.' 
'1 know,' said Angela. 'I'm not kidding myself.' 
'You're a grand girl.' 
'It's time you went away. . . shall I tell you something?' 
'What?' 
'I'm going to give you some money.' 
'Well, that is nice.' 
'You see, when you rang up I knew that was what you 
wanted. And you've been sweet tonight really, though you 
were boring about that island. So 1 thought that just for 
tonight I'd like to have you not asking for money. Before, 
I've enjoyed making it awkward for you. Did you know? 
90 


L 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
Well 1 had to have some fun, hadn't I? - and I think I used 
to embarrass even you sometimes. And I used to watch you 
steering the conversation round. I knew that anxious look 
in your eye so well . . . 1 had to have something to cheer me 
up an these weeks, hadn't I? You don't do much for a girl. 
But tonight I thought it would be a treat just to let you be 
nice and no bother and I've enjoyed myself. 1 made out a 
cheque before you came. . . on the dressing-table. It's for 
rather a lot.' 
'You're a grand girl.' 
'When d'you start?' 
'Tomorrow.' 
'I'll miss you. Have a good time.' 
Next morning at twenty to ten Lady Seal rang her bell. 
Bradshawe drew the curtains and shut the windows, brought 
in the orange juice, the letters and the daily papers. 
'Thank you, Bradshawe. I had a very good night. 1 only 
woke up once and then was asleep again almost directly. Is 
it raining?' 
'I'm afraid so, my lady.' 
'I shall want to see Mr Basil before he goes out.' 
'Mr Basil has gone already.' 
'So early. Did he say where?' 
'He did say, my lady, but 1 am not sure of the name. 
Somewhere in Africa.' 
'How very provoking. 1 know there was something I 
wanted him to do today.' 
At eleven o'clock a box of flowers arrived from Sir Joseph 
Mannering and at twelve Lady Sea] attended a committee 
meeting; it was four days before she discovered the loss of 
her emerald bracelet and by that time Basil was on the sea. 


Croydon, Le Bourget, Lyons, Marseilles; colourless, gusty 
91 


. 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
weather, cloud-spray dripping and trickling on the windows; 
late in the afternoon, stillness from the roar of the propellers; 
sodden turf; the road from the aerodrome to the harbour 
heavily scented with damp shrub; wind-swept sheds on the 
quay; an Annamite boy swabbing the decks; a surly steward, 
the ship does not sail until tomorrow, the commissaire knows 
of the allotment of the cabins, he is on shore, it is not known 
when he will return, there is nowhere to leave the baggage, 
the baggage-room is shut and the commissaire has the key, 
anyone might take it if it were left on deck - twenty francs 
- the luggage could go in one of the cabins, it will be safe 
there, the steward has the key, he will see to it. Dinner at 
the restaurant de Verdun. Basil alone with a bottle of fine 
burgundy. 
Next afternoon they sailed. She was an ugly old ship 
snatched from Germany after the war as part of the repara- 
tions; at most hours of the day two little men in alpaca coats 
played a fiddle and piano in the deck bar; luncheon at 
twelve, dinner at seven; red Algerian wine; shrivelled, 
blotchy dessert; a small saloon full of children; a smoking- 
room full of French officials and planters playing cards. The 
big ships do not stop at Matodi. Basil at table talking excel- 
lent French ceaselessly, in the evenings paying attention to a 
woman of mixed blood from Madagascar, getting bored with 
her and with the ship, sitting sulkily at meals with a book, 
complaining to the captain about the inadequacy of the wire- 
less bulletins, lying alone in his bunk for hours at a time, 
smoking cheroots and gazing blankly at the pipes on the 
ceiling. 
At Port Said he sent lewd postcards to Sonia, disposed of 
his mother's bracelet at a fIfth of its value to an Indian jewel- 
ler, made friends with a Welsh engineer in the bar of the 
Eastern Exchange, got drunk with him, fought him, to the 
embarrassment of the Egyptian policeman, and returned to 
92 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
the ship next morning a few minutes before the companion- 
way was raised, much refreshed by his racket. 
A breathless day in the canal; the woman from Mada- 
gascar exhausted with invitation. The Red Sea, the third- 
class passengers limp as corpses on the lower deck; fiddle and 
piano indefatigable; dirty ice swimming in the dregs of 
lemon juice; Basil in his bunk sullenly consuming cheroots, 
undeterred by the distress of his cabin-companion. Jibuti; 
portholes closed to keep out the dust, coolies jogging up the 
planks with baskets of coal; contemptuous savages in the 
streets scraping their teeth with twigs; an Abyssinian noble- 
woman in a green veil shopping at the French Emporium; 
an ill-intentioned black monkey in an acacia tree near the 
post office. Basil took up with a Dutch South African; they 
dined on the pavement of the hotel and drove later in a 
horse-cab to the Somali quarter where in a lamplit mud hut 
Basil began to talk of the monetary systems of the world un- 
til the Boer fell asleep on a couch of plaited hide and the 
four dancing girls huddled together in the corner Hke chim- 
panzees and chattered resentfully among themselves. 
The ship was sailing for Azania at midnight. She lay far 
out in the bay, three Hnes of lights reflected in the still 
water; the sound of fiddle and piano was borne through the 
darkness, harshly broken by her siren intermittently warn- 
ing passengers to embark. Basil sat in the stern of the little 
boat, one hand trailing in the sea; half-way to the ship the 
boatmen shipped their oars and tried to sell him a basket of 
limes; they argued for a little in broken French, then 
splashed on irregularly towards the liner; an oil lantern 
bobbed in the bows. Basil climbed up the companion-way 
and went below; his companion was asleep and turned over 
angrily as the light went up; the porthole had been shut all 
day and the air was gross; Basil lit a cheroot and lay for 
some time reading. Presently the old ship began to vibrate 
93 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
and later, as she drew clear of the bay, to pitch very slightly 
in the Indian Ocean. Basil turned out the light and lay 
happily smoking in the darkness. 


In London Lady Metroland was giving a party. Sonia said: 
'No one asks us to parties now except Margot. Perhaps there 
aren't any others.' 
'The boring thing about parties is that it's far too much 
effort to meet new people, and if it's just all the ordinary 
people one knows already one might just as well stay at home 
and ring them up instead of having all the business of re- 
membering the right day.' 
'1 wonder why Basil isn't here. 1 thought he was bound to 
be.' 
'Didn't he go abroad?' 
'I don't think so. Don't you remember, he had dinner 
with us the other evening?' 
'Did he? When?' 
'Darling, how can I remember that? . . . there's Angela- 
she'll know.' 
'Angela, has Basil gone away?' 
'Yes, somewhere quite extraordinary.' 
'My dear, is that rather heaven for you?' 
'Well, in a way. . .' 


Basil was awakened by the clank and rattle of steel cable as 
the anchor was lowered. He went up on deck in pyjamas. 
The whole sky was aflame with green and silver dawn. Half- 
covered figures of other passengers sprawled asleep on 
benches and chairs. The sailors paddled between them on 
bare feet, clearing the hatches; a junior officer on the 
bridge shouting orders to the men at the winch. Two lighters 
94 



Basil 


95 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
were already alongside preparing to take off cargo. A dozen 
small boats clustered round them, loaded with fruit. 
Quarter of a mile distant lay the low sea-front of Matodi; 
the minaret, the Portuguese ramparts, the mission church, 
a few warehouses taller than the rest, the Grand Hotel de 
l'Empereur Amurath stood out from the white-and-dun 
cluster of roofs; behind and on either side stretched the 
meadowland and green plantations of the Azanian coast-line, 
groves of tufted palm at the water's edge. Beyond and still 
obscured by mist rose the great crests of the Sakuyu moun- 
tains, the Ukaka pass and the road to Debra Dowa. 
The purser joined Basil at the rail. 
'You disembark here, Mr Seal, do you not?' 
'Yes.' 
'You are the only passenger. vVe sail again at noon.' 
'1 shall be ready to go ashore as soon as I am dressed.' 
, You are making a long stay in Azania?' 
'Possibly.' 
'On business? I have heard it is an interesting country.' 
But for once Basil was disinclined to be instructive. 
'Purely for pleasure,' he said. Then he went below, dressed 
and fastened his bags. His cabin companion looked at his 
watch, scowled and turned his face to the wall; later he 
missed his shaving soap, bedroom slippers and the fine topee 
he had bought a few days earlier at Port Said. 


96 



Chapter Four 
The Matodi terminus of the Grand Chemin de Fer d' 
Azanie lay half a mile inland from the town. A broad avenue 
led to it, red earth scarred by deep ruts and potholes; on 
either side grew irregular lines of acacia trees. Between the 
trees were strings of different-coloured flags. A gang of con- 
victs, chained neck to neck, were struggling to shift a rusty 
motor-car which lay on its side blocking the road. It had 
come to grief there six months previously, having been 
driven recklessly into some cattle by an Arab driver. He was 
now doing time in prison in default of damages. White ants 
had devoured the tyres; various pieces of mechanism had 
been removed from time to time to repair other engines. A 
Sakuyu family had set up house in the back, enclosing the 
space between the wheels with an intricate structure of rags, 
tin, mud and grass. 
That was in the good times when the Emperor was in the 
hills. Now he was back again and the town was overrun 
with soldiers and government officials. It was by his orders 
that this motor-car was being removed. Everything had been 
like that for three weeks, bustle everywhere, proclamations 
posted up on every wal], troops drilling, buglings, hangings, 
the whole town kept awake all day; in the Arab Club feeling 
ran high against the new regime. 
Mahmud el Khali bin Sai-ud, frail descendant of the old- 
est familyin Matodi, sat among his kinsmen, moodily brows- 
ing over his lapfU] of khat. The sunlight streamed in through 
the lattice shutters, throwing a diaper of light over the worn 
carpets and divan; two of the amber mouthpieces of the 
hubble-bubble were missing; the rocking-chair in the corner 
B.M.-G 97 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
was no longer safe, the veneer was splitting and peeling off 
the rosewood table. These poor remnants were all that re- 
mained of the decent peopl e of Matodi; the fine cavaliers had 
been scattered and cut down in battle. Here were six old men 
and two dissipated youngsters, one of whom was liable to fits 
of epilepsy. There was no room for a gentleman in Matodi 
nowadays, they remarked. You could not recount an anec- 
dote in the streets or pause on the waterfront to discuss with 
full propriety the sale of land or the pedigree of a stallion, 
but you were jostled against the wall by black men or 
Indians, dirty fellows with foreskins; unbelievers, descen- 
dants of slaves; judges from up-country
 upstarts, jack-in- 
office, giving decisions against you in the courts. . . Jews 
foreclosing on mortgages . . . taxation . . . vulgar display 
. . . no respect of leisure, hanging up wretched little flags 
everywhere, clearing up the streets, moving derelict motor- 
cars while their owners were not in a position to defend 
them. Today there was an ordinance forbidding the use of 
Arab dress. Were they, at their time of life, to start decking 
themselves out in coat and trousers and topee like a lot of 
half-caste bank clerks? . . . besides, the prices tailors charged 
. . . it was a put-up job . . . you might as wen be in a British 
colony. 
Meanwhile, with much overseeing and shouting and 
banging of behinds, preparations were in progress on the 
route to the railway station; the first train since the troubles 
was due to leave that afternoon. 
It had taken a long time to get a train together. On the 
eve of the battle of Ukaka the stationmaster and aU the 
more responsible members of his staff had left for the main- 
land. In the week that foUowed Seth's victory they had 
returned one by one with various explanations of their 
absence. Then there had been the tedious business of re- 
pairing the line which both armies had ruined at several 
98 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
places; they had had to collect wood fuel for the engine and 
wire for the telegraph lines. This had been the longest delay, 
for no sooner was it procured from the mainland than it was 
stolen by General Connolly's disbanded soldiers to decorate 
the arms and legs of their women. Finally, when everything 
had been prepared, it was decided to delay the train a 
few days until the arrival of the mail ship from Europe. It 
thus happened that Basil Seal's arrival in Matodi coincided 
with the date fixed for Seth's triumphal return to Debra 
Dowa. 
Arrangements for his departure had been made with 
great care by the Emperor himself, and the chief features 
embodied in a proclamation in Sakuyu, Arabic and French, 
which was posted prominently among the many pronounce- 
ments which heralded the advent of Progress and the New 
Age. 


ORDER FOR THE DAY OF THE 
EMPEROR'S DEPARTURE 
(1) The Emperor will proceed to Matodi railway station 
ab 14.50 hours (8.50 Mohammedan time). He will be at- 
tended by his personal suite, the Commander-in-Chief and the 
General Staff. The guard of honour will be composed of the 
first battalion of the Imperial Life Guards. Full dress uni- 
form (boots for officers), wlll be worn by all ranks. Civilian 
gentlemen will wear jacket and orders. Ball ammunition will 
not be issued to the troops. 
(2) The Emperor wlll be received at the foot of the station 
steps by the stationmaster who will conduct him to his car- 
riage. The public will not be admitted to the platforms, or to 
any of the station buildings with the exception of the follow- 
ing, in the following order of precedence. Consular repre- 
sentatives of foreign powers, the Nestorian Metropolitan 
of Matodi, the Vicar Apostolic, the Mormon elder, offlCers 
99 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
Of H.I.M. forces, directors of the Grand Chemin de Fer 
d' Azanie, peers of the Azanian Empire, representatives of the 
Press. No person, irrespective of rank, will be admitted to the 
platform improperly dressed or under the influence of alco- 
hol. 
(5) The public will be permitted to line the route to the sta- 
tion. The police will prevent the discharge offirearms by the 
public. 
(4) The sale of alcoholic liquor is forbidden from mid- 
night until the departure cif the Imperial train. 
(5) One coach will be availablefor the use of the unofficial 
travellers to Debra Dowa. Applications should be made to the 
stationmaster. No passenger will be admitted to the platform 
after 14.00. 
(6) Any infringement of the following regulations renders 
the offender liable to a penalty not exceeding ten years' im- 
prisonment, or confiscation of property and loss of rights, or 
both. 


Basil read this at the railway station, where he drove in a 
horse-cab as soon as he landed. He went to the booking- 
office and bought a first-class ticket to Debra Dowa. It cost 
two hundred rupees. 
'Will you please reserve me a seat on this afternoon's 
train?' 
'That is impossible. There is only one carriage. The places 
have been booked many days.' 
'When is the next train?' 
'Who can say? Perhaps next week. The engine must come 
back from Debra Dowa. The others are broken and the 
mechanic is busy on the tank.' 
'I must speak to the stationmaster.' 
'I am the stationmaster.' 
100 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Well, listen, it is very urgent that I go to Debra Dowa 
today.' 
'You should have made your arrangements sooner. You 
must understand, monsieur, that you are no longer in 
Europe.' 
As Basil turned to go, a small man who had been sitting 
fanning himseH on a heap of packing-cases, scrambled down 
and came across the booking-hall towards him. He was 
dressed in alpaca and skull cap; he had a cheerful, round, 
greasy, yellowish face and 'Charlie Chaplin' moustache. 
"UUo Englishmans, you want something.' 
'I want to go to De bra Dowa.' 
'O.K. 1 fix it.' 
'That's very nice of you.' 
'Honour to fix it. You know who I am. Look here.' He 
handed Basil a card on which was printed: M. Kn'kor You- 
koumian, Grand Hotel et Bar Amurath Matodi, grand Hotel 
Cafe Epicerie, et Bibliotheque Empereur Seyid Debra Dowa. 
Tous les renseignements. The name Seyid had been obliter- 
ated in purple ink and Seth substituted for it. 
'You keep that,' said Mr Youkoumian. 'You come to 
Debra Dowa. You come to me. I fix everything. What's 
your name, sir?' 
'SeaL' 
'W ell look, Mr Seal. You want to come to Debra Dowa. 1 
got two seats. You pay me two hundred rupees, I put Mme 
Y oukoumian in the mule truck. 'Ow's that, eh?' 
'I'm not going to pay anything like that, I'm afraid.' 
'Now listen, Mr Seal. 1 fix it for you. You don't know this 
country. Stinking place. You miss this train, you stay in 
Matodi one, two, three, perhaps six weeks. How much you 
pay then? I like Englishmens. They are my favourite gentle- 
men. Look, you give me hundred and fifty rupees I put 
Mme Y oukoumian with the mules. You don't understand 
101 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
what that will be like. They are the General's mules. Very 
savage stinking animals. All day they will stamp at her. No 
air in the truck. 'Orrible, unhealthy place. Very like she die 
or is kicked. She is good wife, work 'ard, very loving. If you 
are not Englishmans 1 would not put Mme .Y oukoumian 
with the mwes for less than five hundred. I fix it for you, 
O.K.?' 
'O.K.,' said Basil. 'You know, you seem to me a good 
chap.' 
'Look, 'ow about you give me money now. Then 1 take 
you to my cafe. Dirty little place, not like London. But you 
see. 1 got fine brandy . Very fresh, 1 made him myself 
Sunday. ' 
Basil and Mr Y oukoumian took their seats in the train at 
two o'clock and settled down to wait for the arrival of the 
imperial party. There were six other occupants of the car- 
riage - a Greek who offered them oranges and soon feU 
asleep, four Indians who discussed their racial grievances in 
an eager undertone, and an Azanian nobleman with his wife 
who shared a large pie of spiced mutton, lifting the slices 
between pieces of newspaper and eating silently and almost 
continuously throughout the afternoon. Mr Youkoumian's 
personal luggage was very small, but he had severaJ crates of 
merchandise for his Debra Dowa establishment: by a dis- 
tribution of minute tips he had managed to get these into 
the mail van. Mme Y oukoumian squatted disconsolately 
in a corner of the van clutching a little jar of preserved 
cherries which her husband had given her to compensate 
for the change of accommodation; a few feet from her in 
the darkness came occasional nervous brays and whinnies 
and a continuous fretful stamping of the straw. 
In spite of Seth's proclamation the police were at some 
difficulty in keeping the platform clear of the public; twenty 
or thirty of them prosecuted a vigorous defence with long 
102 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
bamboo staves, whacking the woolly heads as they appeared 
above the corrugated iron fence. Even so, large numbers of 
unauthorized spectators were established out of reach on the 
station roof. The Indian who supplied pictures of local colour 
to an International Press Agency was busily taking snapshots 
of the notables. These had not observed the Emperor's in- 
structions to the letter. The Nestorian Metropolitan swayed 
on the arm of his chaplain, unquestionably drunk; the repre- 
sentative of the Courier d' Azanie wore an open shirt, a 
battered topee, crumpled white trousers and canvas shoes; 
the Levantine shipping agent who acted as vice-consul for 
Great Britain, the Netherlands, Sweden, Portugal and Lat- 
via had put on a light waterproof over his pyjamas and come 
to the function straight from bed; the Eurasian bank mana- 
ger who acted as vice-consul for Soviet Russia, France and 
Italy was still asleep; the general merchant of inscrutable 
ancestry who represented the other great powers was at the 
moment employed on the mainland making finaJ arrange- 
ments for the trans-shipment from Alexandria of a long- 
awaited consignment of hashish. Some Azanian dignitaries 
in national costume sat in a row on the carpets their slaves 
had spread for them, placidly scratching the soles of their 
bare feet and conversing intermittently on questions of sex. 
The stationmaster's livestock - two goats and a few small 
turkeys - had been expelled in honour of the occasion from 
their normal quarters in the ladies' waiting-room, and wan- 
dered at will about the platform gobbling at fragments of 
refuse. 
It was more than an hour after the appointed time when 
the drums and fifes of the Imperial guard announced the 
Emperor's arrival. They had been held up by the derelict 
motor-car wbich had all the morning resisted the efforts of 
the convicts to move it. The CiviJ Governor, on whom rested 
the ultimate responsibility for this mishap, was soundly 
105 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
thrashed and degraded from the rank of Viscount to that of 
Baronet before the procession could be resumed. It was 
necessary for the Emperor to leave his car and complete the 
journey on mule back, his luggage bobbing behind him on 
the heads of a dozen suddenly conscripted spectators. 
He arrived in a bad temper, scowled at the stationmaster 
and the two vice-consuls, ignored the native nobility and the 
tipsy Bishop, and bestowed only the most sour of smiles on 
the press photographers. The guard presented arms, the 
interlopers on the roof set up an uncertain cheer and he 
strode across to the carriage prepared for him. General Con- 
nolly and the rest of the royal entourage bundled into their 
places. The stationmaster stood hat in hand waiting for 
orders. 
'His Majesty is now ready to start.' 
The stationmaster waved his hat to the engine-driver; the 
guard once more presented their arms. The drums and fifes 
struck up the national anthem. The two daughters of the 
director of the line scattered rose petals round the steps of the 
.carriage. The engine whistled, Seth continued to smile. . . 
nothing happened. At the end of the verse the band music 
died away; the soldiers stood irresolutely at the present; the 
Nestorian Metropolitan continued to beat the time of some 
interior melody; the goats and turkeys wandered in and out 
among the embarrassed spectators. Then, when all seemed 
frozen in silence, the engine gave a great wrench, shaking 
the train coach by coach from the tender to the mule boxes, 
and suddenly, to the immense delight of the darkies on the 
roof, shot off by itseH into the country. 
'The Emperor has given no orders for a delay.' 
'It is a thing I did not foresee,' said the stationmaster. 'Our 
only engine has gone away alone. I think I shall be dis- 
graced for this affair.' 
But Seth made no comment. The other passengers came 
104 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
out on to the platform, smoking and making jokes. He did 
not look out at them. This gross incident had bruised his 
most vulnerable feelings. He had been made ridiculous at 
a moment of dignity and triumph; he had been disappointed 
in plans he had made eagerly; his own superiority was com- 
promised by contact with such service. Basil passed his win- 
dow and caught a glimpse of a gloomy but very purposeful 
black face under a white sun helmet. And at that moment 
the Emperor was resolving. 'My people are a worthless peo- 
ple. I give orders; there is none to obey me. I am like a great 
musician without an instrument. A wrecked car broadside 
across the line of my procession . . . a royal train without an 
engine. . . goats on the platform. . . I can do nothing with 
these people. The Metropolitan is drunk. Those old land- 
owners giggled when the engine broke away; I must find a 
man of culture, a modern man. . . a representative of Pro- 
gress and the New Age.' And Basil again passed the window; 
this time in conversation with General Connolly. 
Presently, amid cheers, the runaway engine puffed back- 
wards into the station. 
Mechanics ran out to repair the coupling. 
At last they started. 
Basil began the journey in a cheerfuJ temper. He had got 
on very well with the general and had accepted an invita- 
tion to 'Pop in for a spot any time' when they reached the 
capital. 


The train which brought the Emperor to Debra Dowa also 
brought the mail. It was a great day at the British Legation. 
The bags were brought into the dining-room and they all sat 
round dealing out the letters and parcels, identifying the 
handwritings and reading over each other's shoulders. . . 
'Peter's heard from Flora.' 'Do let me read Anthony's letter 
105 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
after you, Mabel.' 'Here's a page to go on with.' 'Does 
anyone want Jack's letter from Sybil?' 'Yes, I do, but I 
haven't finished Mabel's from Agnes yet.' 'What a lot of 
money William owes. Here's a bill for eighty-two pounds 
from his tailor.' 'And twelve from his book-shop.' 'Who's 
this from, Prudence? I don't know the writing. . .' 
'Awful lot of official stuff,' complained Sir Samson. 'Can't 
bother about that now. You might take charge of it, Peter, 
and have a look through it when you get time.' 
'It won't be for a day or two, I'm afraid, sir. We're simply 
snowed under with work in the chancery over this gym- 
khana. ' 
'Yes, yes, my boy, of course, all in good time. Always 
stick to the job in hand. I dare say there's nothing that needs 
an answer, and anyway there's no knowing when the next 
mail will go . . . I say, though, here's something interesting, 
my word it is. Can't make head or tail of the thing. It says, 
"Good luck. Copy this letter out nine times and send it to nine 
different friends" . . . What an extraordinary idea.' 
'Envoy dear, do be quiet. I want to try the new records.' 
'No, but Prudence, do listen. It was started by an Ameri- 
can officer in France. If one breaks the chain one gets bad 
luck, and if one sends it on, good luck. There was one woman 
lost her husband and another one who made a fortune at 
roulette - all through doing it and not doing it . . . you 
know I should never have believed that possible . . .' 
Prudence played the new records. It was a solemn thought 
to the circle that they would hear these eight tunes daily, 
week after week, without release, until that unpredictable 
day when another mail should arrive from Europe. In their 
bungalows, in their compound, in their rare, brief excursions 
into the outer world, these words would run in their head. 
. . . Meanwhile they opened their letters and unrolled their 
newspapers. 


106 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Envoy, what have you got there?' 
'My dear, another most extraordinary thing. Look here. 
It's all about the Great Pyramid. You see it's all a "cosmic 
aUegory". It depends on the "Displacement factor". Listen, 
"The combined length of the two tribulation passages is pre- 
cisely 153 Pyramid inches - 153 being the number symbolic 
of the Elect in Our Lord's mystical enactment of the draught 
of 153 great fishes". I say, I must go into this. It sounds 
frightfully interesting! I can't think who sends me these 
things. Jolly decent of them whoever it is.' 
Eleven Punches, eleven Graphics, fifty-nine copies of The 
Times, two Vogues and a mixed collection of New Yorkers, 
Week End Reviews, St James's Gazettes, Horses and Hounds, 
Journals of Oriental Studies, were unrolled and distributed. 
Then came novels from Mudie's, cigars, soda-water sparklets. 
'We ought to have a Christmas tree next time the bag 
comes in.' 
Several Foreign Office dispatches were swept up and in- 
cinerated among the litter of envelopes and wrappings. 
'Apparently inside the Pyramid there is a chamber of the 
Triple Veil of Ancient Egyptian Prophecy. . . the east wall 
of the Antechamber symbolizes Truce in Chaos . . .' 
'There is a card announcing a gala night at the Perroquet 
tomorrow, Envoy. Don't you think we might go?' 
'. . . Four limestone blocks representing the Fz'nal Tribula- 
tion in 1936 . . .' 
'Envoy.' 
'Eh. . . I'm so sorry. Yes, we'll certainly go. Haven't 
been out for weeks.' 
'By the way,' said William, 'we had a caller in today.' 
'Not the Bishop?' 
'No, someone new. He wrote his name in the book. Basil 
Seal.' 
'What does he want, I wonder? Know anything about him?" 
107 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'1 seem to have heard his name. 1 don't quite know 
where.' 
'Ought we to ask him to stay? He didn't bring any letters?' 
'No.' 
'Thank God. Well, we'll ask him to luncheon one day. I 
expect he'll find it too hot to come out often.' 
'Oh,' said Prudence, 'somebody new. That's more than 
.one could have hoped for. Perhaps he'll be able to teach us 
backgammon. ' 
That evening M. Ballon received a disquieting report. 
'Mr Basil Seal, British politician travelling under private 
litle, has arrived in Debra Dowa, and is staying in M. You- 
koumian's house. He is avoiding all open association with the 
Legation. This evening he called, but presented no credentials. 
He is obviously expected. He has been seen in conversation 
with General Connolly, the new Duke of Ukaka.' 
'I do not like the look of this Mr Seal. The old fox, Sir 
Courteney, is playing a deep game - but old Ballon will 
outwit him yet.' 


The Victory Ball at the Perroquet exceeded all its pro- 
moter's highest expectations in splendour and gaiety. Every 
side of Azanian life was liberally represented. The court 
.circle and diplomatic corps, the army and government ser- 
vices, the Church, commerce, the native nobility and the 
cosmopolitan set. 
A gross of assorted novelties - false noses, paper caps, 
trumpets and dolls - had arrived by the mail from Europe, 
but demands exceeded the supply. Turbans and tarbooshes 
bobbed round the dancing floor; there were men in Azanian 
state robes, white jackets, uniforms, and reach-me-down tail 
coats; women of all complexions in recently fashionable 
gowns, immense imitation jewels and lumpy ornaments of 
108 



Viscount Boaz and Mme Fifi Fatim Bey at 
the Victory Ball at the Perroquet 
109 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
solid gold. There was Mme 'Fifi' Fatim Bey, the town 
courtesan, and her present protector Viscount Boaz, the 
Mimster of the Interior; there was the Nestorian Patriarch 
and his favourite deacon; there was the Duke and Duchess 
of Ukaka; there was the manager, Prince Fyodor Krononin, 
elegant and saturnine, reviewing the late arrivals at the 
door; there was Basil Seal and Mr Youkoumian, who had 
been hard at work all that day, making champagne for the 
party. At a long table near the back were the British Lega- 
tion in fun force. 
'Envoy, you can't wear a false nose.' 
'I don't at all see why not. I think it's very amusing.' 
'I don't think that you ought real]y to be here at all.' 
'Why? M. Ballon is.' 
'Yes, but he doesn't look as if he were enjoying himself.' 
'I say, shall I send him one of those chain letters?' 
'Yes, I don't see why you shouldn't do that.' 
'It will puzzle him terribly.' 
'Envoy, who's that young man? I'm sure he's English.' 
Basil had gone across to Connolly's table. 
'Rullo, old boy. Take a pew. This is Black Bitch.' 
'Row do you do.' The little Negress put down her trum- 
pet, bowed with grave dignity and held out her hand. 'Not 
Black Bitch any more. Duchess of Ukaka now.' 
'My word, hasn't she got an ugly mug?' said the Duke. 
'But she's a good little thing.' 
Black Bitch flashed a great, white grin of pleasure at the 
compliment. It was a glorious night for her; it would have 
been rapture enough to have her man back from the wars; 
but to be made a Duchess and taken to supper among all the 
white ladies . . . all in the same day . . . 


'You see,' said M. Ballon to his first secretary. 'That is the 
110 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
man, over there with Connolly. You are having him 
watched?' 
'Ceaselessly. ' 
'You have instructed the waiter to attend carefuUy to the 
conversation at the English table?' 
'He reported to me just now in the cloakroom. It is im- 
possible to understand. Sir Samson speaks all the time of the 
dimensions of the Great Pyramid.' 
'A trap, doubtless.' 


The Emperor had signified his intention of making an 
appearance some time during the evening. At the end of the 
ballroom a box had been improvised for him with bunting, 
pots of palm, and gilt cardboard. Soon after midnight he 
came. At a sign from Prince Fyodor the band stopped in the 
middle of the tune and struck up the national anthem. The 
dancing couples scuttled to the side of the ballroom; the 
guests at supper rose awkwardly to their feet, pushing their 
tables forward with a rattle of knives and glass; there was a 
furtive self-conscious straightening of ties and removing of 
paper caps. Sir Samson Courteney alone absent-mindedly 
retained his false nose. The royal entourage in frogged uni- 
forms advanced down the polished floor; in their centre, half 
a pace ahead, looking neither to right nor left, strode the 
Emperor in evening dress, white kid gloves, heavily starched 
linen, neat pearl studs and jet black face. 
'Got up just as though he were going to sing Spirituals at a 
party,' said Lady Courteney. 
Prince Fyodor glided in front and ushered him to his table. 
He sat down alone. The suite ranged themselves behind his 
chair. He gave a slight nod to Prince Fyodor. Tbe band re- 
sumed the dance music. The Emperor watched impassively 
as the company began to settle down to a state of enjoyment. 
111 



BLACK MISCIUEF 
Presently, by means of an agency, he invited the wife of 
the American minister to dance with him. The other couples 
fell back. With gravity and grace he led Mrs Schonbaum 
into the centre, danced with her twice round the room, led 
her back to her table, bowed and returned to his box. 
'Why, he dances beautifully,' reported Mrs Schonbaum. 
'1 often wonder what they would say back home to see me 
dancing with a man of colour.' 
'1 do pray he comes and dances with Mum,' said Pru- 
dence. 'Do you think it's any use me trying to vamp him, or 
does he only go for wives?' 
The evening went on. 
The maitre d' h6tel approached Prince Fyodor in some 
distress. 
'Highness, they are complaining about the champagne.' 
'Who are?' 
'The French Legation.' 
'Tell them we will make a special price for them.' 


'. . . Highness, more complaints of the champagne.' 
'Who this time?' 
'The Duke of Ukaka.' 
'Take away the bottle, pour in a tumbler of brandy and 
bring it back.' 
'. . . Highness, is it proper to serve the Minister of the 
Interior with more wine? He is pouring it in his lady's lap.' 
'It is proper. You ask questions like an idiot.' 


The English party began to play consequences on the menu 
cards. They were of the simplest sort: The amorous Duke of 
Ukaka met the intoxicated Mme Ballon in the Palace w.c. 
He said to her 'Floreat Azania' . . . 
112 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Envoy, if you laugh so much we'll have to stop playing.' 
'Upon my sow, though, that's funny.' 
'l\1um, do you think that young man with the Connollys 
is the one who called?' 
'I dare say. We must ask him to something some time. 
Perhaps he'll be here for the Christmas luncheon. . . but he 
seems to have plenty of friends already.' 
'Mum, don't be snobbish - particularly now Connolly's a 
Duke. Do let's have him to everything always . . .' 


Basil said, 'I've been trying to catch the Emperor's eye. I 
don't beJieve he remembers me.' 
'The old boy's on rather a high horse now the war's over. 
He'll come down a peg when the bills start coming in. 
They've brought us a better bottle of fizz this time. Like 
Fyodor's impudence trying to palm off that other stuff on us.' 
'I wonder if it would be possible to arrange an audience.' 
'Look here, old boy, have you come here to enjoy yourself 
or have you not? I've been in camp with that Emperor off 
and on for the last six months and I want to forget him. Give 
Black Bitch some bubbly and help yourself and for the love 
of Mike talk smut.' 


'Monsieur Jean, something terrible has come to my know- 
ledge,' said the French second secretary. 
'Tell me,' said the first secretary. 
'1 can scarcely bring myself to do so. It affects the honour 
of the Minister's wife.' 
'Incredible. Ten me at once. It is your duty to France.' 
'For France theD . . . when affected by wine she made an 
assignation with the Duke of Ukaka. He loves her.' 
'Who would have thought it possible? Where?' 
B.M.-H 115 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'In the toilette at the Palace.' 
'But there is no toilette at the Palace.' 
'Sir Samson Courteney has written evidence to that effect. 
The paper has been folded into a narrow strip. No doubt it 
was conveyed to him by one of his spies. Perhaps in a roll of 
bread. ' 
'Extraordinary. We will keep this from the Minister. We 
will watch, ourselves. It is a secret between us. No good can 
come of it. Alas, poor Monsieur Bailon. He trusted her . We 
must prevent this thing.' 
'For France.' 
'For France and Monsieur Bailon.' 
'. . . I have never observed Madame Ballon the worse for 
drink. . .' 


Paper caps were resumed: bonnets of liberty, conical dunce's 
hats, jockey caps, Napoleonic casques, hats for pierrots and 
harlequins, postmen, highlanders, old Mothers Hubbard and 
little Misses Muffet over faces of every complexion, brown as 
boots, cha1k white, dun and the fresh boiled pink of Northern 
Europe. False noses again: brilliant sheaths of pigmented 
cardboard attached to noses of every anthropological type, 
the high arch of the Semite, freckled Nordic snouts, broad 
black nostrils from swamp villages of the mainland, the 
pulpy inflamed flesh of the alcoholic, and unlovely syphilitic 
voids. Ribbons of coloured papers tangled and snapped about 
the dancers' feet; coloured balls volleyed from table to table. 
One, erratically thrown by Madame Fifi, bounced close to 
the royal box; the Minister of the Interior facetiously ap- 
plauded her aim. Prince Fyodor glanced anxiously about 
him. His patrons were beginning to enjoy themselves. IT 
only the Emperor would soon leave; an incident might occur 
at any moment. 


114- 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
But Seth sat alone among the palms and garlands, appar- 
ently deep in thought; his fingers fidgeted with the stem 
of his wine glass; sometimes, without raising his head, he 
half furtively surveyed the room. The equerries behind his 
chair despaired of permission to dance. If only His Majesty 
would go home, they could slip back before the fun was all 
over . . . 


'Old boy, your pal the Great Panjandrum is something of 
a damper on this happy throng. Why can't the silly mutt go 
off home and leave us to have a jolly up?' 


'Can't conceive why young Seth doesn't move. Can't be 
enjoying himself.' 


But the Emperor sat tight. This was the celebration of his 
Victory. This was the society of Debra Dowa. There was the 
British Minister happy as a parent at a children's party. 
There was the Minister of the Interior, behaving hideously. 
There was the Commander-in-Chief of the Azanian army. 
And with him was Basil Seal. Seth recognized him in his first 
grave survey of the restaurant and suddenly, on this trium- 
phal night in his own capital, he was overcome by shyness. It 
was nearly three years since they last met and Seth recalled 
the light drizzle of rain in the Oxford quadrangle, a scout 
carrying a tray of dirty plates, a group of undergraduates in 
tweeds lounging about among bicycles in the porch. He had 
been an undergraduate of no account in his College, amiably 
classed among Bengali babus, Siamese, and grammar school 
scholars as one of the remote and praiseworthy people who 
had come a long way to the University. Basil had enjoyed a 
115 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
reputation of peculiar brilliance among his contemporaries. 
On the rare occasions when evangelicaHy minded under- 
gra,duates asked Seth to tea or coffee, his name occurred in 
the conversation with awed disapproval. He played poker for 
high stakes. His luncheon parties lasted until dusk, his 
dinner parties dispersed in riot. Lovely young women visited 
him from London in high-powered cars. He went away for 
week-ends without leave and climbed into College over the 
tiles at night. He had travelled allover Europe, spoke six 
languages, caned dons by their Christian names and dis- 
cussed their books with them. 
Seth had met him at breakfast with the Master of the Col- 
lege. Basil had talked to him about Azanian topography, the 
Nestorian Church, Sakuyu dialects, the idiosyncrasies of the 
chief diplomats in Debra Dowa. Two days later he invited 
him to luncheon. There had been two peers present and the 
President of the Union, the editor of a new undergraduate 
paper and a young don. Seth had sat silent and entranced 
throughout the afternoon. Later, after long consultation 
with his scout, he had returned the invitation. Basil accepted 
and at the last moment made his excuses for not coming. 
There the acquaintance had ended. Three years had inter- 
vened, during which Seth had become Emperor, but Basil 
still stood for him as the personification of all that glittering, 
intangible Western culture to which he aspired. And there 
he was, unaccountably, at the Connollys' table. What must 
he be thinking? If only the Minister for the Interior were 
more sober. . . 
The maitre d'h6tel again approached Prince Fyodor. 
'Highness, there is someone at the door who I do not think 
should be admitted.' 
'1 will see him.' 
But as he turned to the door, the newcomer appeared. 
He was a towering Negro in full gala dress: on his head a 
116 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
lion's-mane busby; on his shoulders a shapeless fur mantle; 
a red satin skirt; brass bangles and a necklace of lion's teeth; 
a long, ornamental sword hung at his side; two bandoliers of 
brass cartridges circled his great girth; he had small blood- 
shot eyes and a tousle of black wool over his cheeks and chin. 
Behind him stood six unsteady slaves carrying antiquated 
rifles. 
It was one of the backwoods peers, the Earl of Ngumo, 
feudal overlord of some five hundred square miles of im- 
penetrable highland territory. He had occupied himself 
throughout the civil war in an attempt to mobilize his tribes- 
men. The battle of Ukaka occurring before the levy was 
complete, saved him the embarrassment of declaring him- 
self for either combatant. He had therefore left his men in 
the hills and marched down with a few hundred personal 
attendants to pay his respects to the victorious side. His cele- 
brations had lasted for some days already and had left some 
mark upon even his rugged constitution. 
Prince Fyodor hurried forward. 'The tables are all en- 
gaged. 1 regret very much that there is no room. We are full 
up.' 
The Earl blinked dully and said, '1 will have a table, some 
gin and some women and some raw camel's meat for my 
men outside.' 
'But there is no table free.' 
'Do not be put out. That is a simple matter. 1 have some 
soldiers with me who will quickly find room.' 
The band had stopped playing and a hush fell on the 
crowded restaurant; scared faces under the paper hats and 
false noses. 
'Under the table, Black Bitch,' said Connolly. 'There's 
going to be a rough house.' 
Mr Youkoumian's plump back disappeared through the 
service door. 


117 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Now what's happening?' said the British Minister. 'Some- 
one's up to something, 1'11 be bound.' 
But at that moment the Earl's bovine gaze, moving up 
the rows of scared faces to its natural focus among the palms 
and bunting, reached the Emperor. His hand fell to the 
jewelled hilt of his sword - and twenty hands in various 
parts of the room felt for pistols and bottle necks - a yard 
of tarnished damascene flashed into the light and with a 
roar of homage he sank to his knees in the centre of the 
polished floor. 
Seth rose and folded his hands in the traditional gesture 
of welcome. 
'Peace be upon your house, Earl.' 
The vassal rose and Prince Fyodor's perplexities were 
solved by the departure of the royal party. 
'I will have that table,' said the Earl, pointing to the 
vacated box. 
And soon, quite unconscious of the alarm he had caused, 
with a bottle of M. Y oukoumian's gin before him, and a vast 
black cheroot between his teeth, the magnate was pacifically 
winking at the ladies as they danced past him. 
Outside the royal chauffeur was asleep and only with 
difficulty could be awakened. The sky was ablaze with stars; 
dust hung in the cool air, fragrant as crushed herbs; from 
the Ngumo camp, out of sight below the eucalpytus trees, 
came the thin smoke of burning dung and the pulse and 
throb of the hand drummers. Seth drove back alone to the 
black litter of pal ace buildings. 
'Insupportable barbarians,' he thought. 'I am sure that 
the English lords do not behave in that way before their 
King. Even my loyalest officers are ruffians and buffoons. If 
I had one man by me whom I could trust . . . a man of 
progress and culture. . .' 


118 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
Six weeks passed. The victorious army slowly demobilized 
and dispersed over the hills in a hundred ragged companies; 
livestock and women in front, warriors behind laden with 
alarm clocks and nondescript hardware looted in the bazaars; 
soldiers of progress and the new age homeward bound to the 
villages. 
The bustle subsided and the streets of Matodi resumed 
their accustomed calm: copra, cloves, mangoes and khat; 
azan and angelus; old women with obdurate donkeys; trays 
of pastry black with flies; shrill voices in the mission school 
reciting the catechism; lepers and pedlars, and Arab gentle- 
men with shabby gamps decently parading the water-front 
at the close of day. In the derelict van outside the railway 
station, a patient black family repaired the ravages of inva- 
sion with a careful architecture of mud, twigs, rag and 
flattened petrol tins. 
Two mail ships outward bound from Marseilles, three on 
the home journey from Madagascar and Indo-China paused 
for their normal six hours in the little bay. Four times the 
train puffed up from Matodi and Debra Dowa; palm belt, 
lava fields, bush and upland; thin cattle scattered over the 
sparse fields; shallow furrows in the brittle earth; white- 
gowned Azanian ploughboys scratching up furrows with 
wooden ploughs; conical grass roofs in stockades of euphor- 
bia and cactus; columns of smoke from the tukal fIres, pen- 
cil-drawn against the clear sky. 
Vernacular hymns in the tin-roofed missions, ancient 
liturgy in the murky Nestorian sanctuaries; tonsure and 
turban, hand drums and innumerable jingling bells of de- 
based silver. And beyond the hills on the low Wanda coast 
where no liners called and the jungle stretched unbroken to 
the sea, other more ancient rites and another knowledge 
furtively encompassed; green, sunless paths; forbidden ways 
unguarded save for a wisp of grass pIa ited between two 
119 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
stumps, ways of death and initiation, the forbidden places of 
juju and the masked dancers; the drums of the Wanda 
throbbing in sunless, forbidden places. 
Fanfare and sennet; tattoo of kettle drums; tricolour bunt- 
ing strung from window to window across the Boulevard 
Amurath, from Levantine cafe to Hindu drugstore; Seth 
in his Citroen drove to lay the foundation stone of the Im- 
perial Institutes of Hygiene; brass band of the Imperial army 
raised the dust of the main street. Floreat Azania. 


120 



45 
15 


55 


Dell 
& 


 


10 


5 


o 


AZANIAN EM.PIRE 
5 45 


50 


55 


Map of the Azanian Empire 


121 


60 
IS 


10 


5 

 

 

 
(J 

 0 

 

 

 
M S 



Chapter Five 


On the soutb side of the Palace Compound, between the 
kitchen and the stockade, lay a large irregul ar space where 
the oxen were slaughtered for the public banquets. A minor 
gallows stood there which was used for such trivial, domestic 
executions as now and then became necessary within the 
royal househo] d. The place was deserted now except for the 
small cluster of puzzled blacks who were usually congre- 
gated round the headquarters of the One Year Plan and a 
single dog who gnawed her hindquarters in the patch of 
shadow cast by two corpses, which rotated slowly face to 
face, half circle East, haH circle West, ten foot high in the 
limpid morning sunHght. 
The Ministry of Modernization occupied what had for- 
merly been the old Empress' oratory; a circular building of 
concrete and corrugated iron, its outer waIl enriched with 
posters from all parts of Europe and the United States ad- 
vertising machinery, fashion and foreign travel. The display 
was rarely without attendance and today the customary 
loafers were reinforced by five or six gentlemen in the blue 
cotton cloaks which the official class of Debra Dowa assumed 
in times of bereavement. These were mourners for the two 
criminals - peculators and perjurers both - who had come 
to give a dutiful tug at their relatives' heels in case life might 
not yet be extinct, and had stayed to gape, entranced by the 
manifestations of Progress and the New Age. 


122 



BLACK. MISCHIEF 
On the door was a board painted in Arabic, Sakuyu and 
French with the inscription: 


MINISTRY OF MODERNIZATION 
HIGH COMMISSIONER & COMPTROLLER GENERAL: 
MR BASIL SEAL 
FINANCIAL SECRETARY: MR KRIKOR YOUKOUMIAN 


A vague smell of incense and candle-grease still possessed 
the interior; in all other ways it had been completely trans- 
formed. Two partitions divided it into unequal portions. The 
largest was Basil's office, which contained nothing except 
some chairs, a table littered with maps and memoranda, and 
a telephone. Next door Mr Y oukoumian had induced a more 
homely note: his work was economical]y confined to two or 
three penny exercise-books filled with figures and indeci- 
pherab]e jottings, but his personality extended itself and per- 
vaded the room, finding concrete expression in the seedy red 
plush sofa that he had scavenged from one of the state 
apartments, the scraps of clothing hitched negligently about 
the furniture, the Parisian photographs pinned to the walls, 
the vestiges of food on enamelled tin plates, the scent spray, 
cigarette ends, spittoon and the little spirit-stove over which 
perpetually simmered a brass pan of coffee. It was his idio- 
syncrasy to prefer working in stockinged feet, so that when 
he was at his post a pair of patent leather, elastic-sided boots, 
proclaimed his presence from the window-ledge. 
In the vestibule sat a row of native runners with whose ser- 
vices the modernizing party were as yet unable to dispense. 
At nine in the morning both Basil and Mr Y oukoumian 
were at their desks. Instituted a month previously by royal 
proclamation, the Ministry of Modernization was already a 
going concern. Just how far it was going, indeed, was appre- 
ciated by very few outside its circular placarded walls. Its. 
123 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
function as defined in Seth's decree was 'to promote the adop- 
tion of modern organization and habits of life throughout the 
Azanian Empire' whicb, liberally interpreted, comprised 
the right of interference in most of the public and private 
affairs of the nation. As Basil glanced through the corres- 
pondence that awaited him and the rough agenda for the 
<lay, he felt ready to admit that anyone but himself and Mr 
Y oukoumian would have bitten off more than he could 
chew. Reports from eight provincial viceroys on a question- 
naire concerning the economic resources and population of 
their territory - documents full of ponderous expressions of 
politeness and the minimum of trustworthy information; 
..detailed recommendations from the railway authorities at 
Matodi; applications for concessions from European pros- 
pectors; inquiries from tourist bureaux about the possibilities 
of big-game hunting, surf bathing and mountaineering; 
applications for public appointments; protests from missions 
and legations; estimates for building; details of court eti- 
quette and precedence - everything seemed to find its way 
to Basil's table. The other ministers of the crown had not 
yet begun to feel uneasy about their own positions. They 
regarded Basil's arrival as a direct intervention of heaven on 
their behalf. Here was an Englishman who was willing to 
leave them their titles and emoluments and take all the 
work off their hands. Each was issued with the rubber 

tamp REFER TO BUREAU OF MODERNIZATION, and in a 
very few days the Minister of the Interior, the Lord Cham- 
berlain, the Justiciar, the City Governor, and even Seth him- 
self, acquired the habit of relegating all decisions to Basil 
with one firm stab of indelible ink. Two officials alone, the 
Nestorian patriarch and the Commander-in-Chief of the 
.army, failed to avail themselves of the convenient new in- 
stitution, but continued to muddle through the routine of 
their departments in the same capricious, dilatory but in- 
124 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
dependent manner as before the establishment of the new 
regime. 
Basil had been up very late the night before working with 
the Emperor on a codification of the criminal law, but the 
volume of business before him left him undismayed. 
'Youkoumian,' 
"Ullo. Mr Seal?' 
The financial secretary padded in from the next room. 
'Connolly won't have boots.' 
'Won't 'ave boots? But, Mr Seal, he got to 'ave boots. 1 
bought them from Cape Town. They come next ship. I 
bought them, you understand, as a personal enterprise, out 
of my own pocket. What in 'ell can 1 do with a thousand 
pair of boots if Connolly won't take them?' 
'You ought to have waited.' 
'Waited? And then when the order is out and everyone 
knows Guards to 'ave boots, what'll 'appen then? Some pig 
wanting to make money will go to the Emperor and say I 
get you boots damned cheaper than Y oukoumian. Where 
am 1 then? They might as well go barefoot all same as they 
do now like the dirty niggers they are. No, Mr Seal, that is 
Dot business. 1 fix it so that one morning the Army Order 
says Guards must have boots. Everyone say, but where are 
boots? No one got enough boots in this stinking hole. Some- 
one say, 1 get you boots in three weeks, month, five weeks, 
so long. 1 come up and say, I got boots, How many pairs 
you want? Thousand? O.K. 1 fix it. That is business. What 
does the General say?' 
Basil handed him the letter. It was emphatic and almost 
ungenerously terse, coming as it did in answer to a carefully 
drafted recommendation beginning, 'The Minister of Mod- 
ernization presents his compliments to the Commander-in- 
Chief' of the Imperial Army and in pursuance of the powers 
granted him by royal decree begs to advise . . .' 
125 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
It consisted of a single scrap of lined paper torn from a 
note-book across which Connolly had scrawled in pencil: The 
Minister of Damn All can go to blazes. My men couldn't 
move a yard in boots. Try and sell Seth top hats next time. 
Ukaka C. in C. 
'Well,' said Mr Y oukoumian doubtfully, '1 could get top 
, ats. ' 
'That is one of Connolly's jokes, I'm afraid.' 
'Jokes, is it? And 'ere am 1 with a thousand pair black 
boots on my 'ands. Ha. Ha. Like 'ell it's a joke. There isn't a 
thousand people in the whole country that wears boots. 
Besides these aren't the kind of boots people buys for them- 
selves. Government stuff. Damn rotten. See what 1 mean?' 
'Don't you worry,' Basil said. 'We'll find a use for them. 
We might have them served out to the clergy.' He took 
back the General's note, glanced through it frowning and 
clipped it into the file of correspondence; when he raised his 
head his eyes were clouded in an expression characteristic to 
him, insolent, sulky and curiously childish. 'But as a matter 
of fact,' he added, '1 shouldn't mind a show-down with 
Connolly. It's nearly time for one.' 
'They are saying that the General is in love with Madame 
Ballon. ' 
'1 don't believe it.' 
'1 am convinced,' said Mr Youkoumian. 'It was told me on 
very 'igh authority by the barber who visits the French 
Legation. Everyone in the town is speaking of it. Even 
Madame Youkoumian has heard. 1 tell you 'ow it is,' he 
added complacently. 'Madame Ballon drinks. That is 'ow 
Connolly first 'ad 'er.' 


Quarter of an hour later both Basil and Mr Y oukoumian 
were engaged in what seemed more important business. 
126 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
A morning's routine at the Ministry of Modernization. 
'Now, look, Mister, I tell you exactly how we are fixed. 
We have His Majesty's interests to safeguard. See what I 
mean? You think there is tin in the Ngumo mountains in 
workable quantities. So do we. So do other companies. They 
want concession too. Only today two gentlemen come to ask 
me to fix it for them. What do 1 do? 1 say, we can only give 
concession to company we have confidence in. Look. How 
about if on your board of directors you had a man of financial 
status in the country; someone who His Majesty trusts. . . 
see what 1 mean? . . . someone with a fair little block of 
share allocated to him. He would protect His Majesty's 
interests and interests of company too . . . see?' 
'That's all very well, Mr Youkoumian, but it isn't so easy 
to find anyone like that. 1 can't think of anyone at the 
moment. ' 
'No, can't you? Can't you think?' 
'Unless, of course, you yourself? But 1 can hardly suggest 
that. You are far too busy.' 
'Mister, 1 have learned how to be busy and still have time 
for things that please me . . .' 


Next door: Basil and the American commercial attache: 'The 
situation is this, Walker. I'm - the Emperor is spending a 
quarter of a million sterling on road construction this year. It 
can't come out of the ordinary revenue. I'm floating a loan 
to raise the money. You're acting over here for Cosmopolitan 
Oil Trust and for Stetson cars. Every mile of road we make is 
worth five hundred cars a year and God knows how many 
gallons of oil. If your companies like to take up the loa,n I'm 
prepared to give them a ten-years' monopoly. . .' 
Later, the editor of the Courier d'Azanie. 
M. Bertrand did not look a man of any importance - nor, 
127 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
in fact, was he. The Courier consisted of a single sheet, 
folded quarto, which was issued weekly to rather less than a 
thousand subscribers in Debra Dowa and Matodi. It retailed 
in French the chief local events of the week - the diplomatic 
entertainments, official appointments, court circular, the 
programmes of the cinemas and such few items of foreign 
news as came through on the wireless. It occupied one day a 
week of M. Bertrand's time, the remainder of which was 
employed in printing menus, invitation cards, funeral and 
wedding announcements, in acting as local correspondent for 
a European news-agency and in selling stationery over the 
counter of his little office. It was in the hope of a fat order for 
crested note-paper that he presented himself in answer to 
Basil's invitation at the offices of the new Ministry. 
'Good morning, Monsieur Bertrand. It's good of you to 
come. We may as well get to business at once. 1 want to buy 
your paper.' 
'Why, certainly, Monsieur Seal. 1 have a very nice cream- 
laid line suitable for office use or a slightly more expensive 
quality azure-tinted with a linen surface. 1 suppose you 
would want the name of the Ministry embossed at the 
head?' 
'I don't think you understand me. I mean the Courier d' 
Azanie.' 
M. Bertrand's face showed disappointment and some vex- 
ation. It was really unpardonably high-handed of this young 
man to demand a personal call from the proprietor and 
editor-in-chief whenever he bought a copy of his journal. 
'I will tell my clerk. You wish to subscribe regularly?' 
'No, no, you don't understand. 1 wish to become the pro- 
prietor - to own the entire concern. What is your price?' 
Slowly the idea took root, budded and blossomed; then 
M. Bertrand said: 'Oh no, that would be quite impossible. 1 
don't want to sell.' 


128 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Come, come. It can't be worth much to you and I am 
willing to pay a generous price.' 
'It is not that, sir; it is a question of prestige, you under- 
stand,' he spoke very earnestly. 'You see, as the proprietor 
and editor of the Courier I am someone. Twice a year 
Madame Bertrand and I dine at the French Legation; once 
we go to the garden party, we go to the Court and the polo 
club. That is something. But if 1 become Bertrand, job- 
printer, who will regard me then? Madame Bertrand would 
not forgive it.' 
'1 see,' said Basil. To be someone in Debra Dowa . . . it 
seemed a modest ambition; it would be a shame to deprive 
M. Bertrand. '1 see. Well, suppose that you retained the 
position of editor and were nominally proprietor. That would 
fuHil my purpose. You see 1 am anxious to enlarge the scope 
of your paper. I wish it to publish leading articles explaining 
the political changes. Listen . . .' and for a quarter of an 
hour Basil outlined his intentions for the Courier's develop- 
ment . . . three sheets, advertisements of European firms 
and government services to meet increased cost of produc- 
tion; enlarged circulation; features in Sakuyu and Arabic; 
intelJigent support of government policy . . . At the end of 
the interview M. Bertrand left, slightly bewildered, carrying 
with him a fair-sized cheque and the notes for a leading 
article forecasting possible changes in the penal code. . . 
convict settlements to replace local prisons. . . . What extra- 
ordinary subjects to mention in the Courier! 
At eleven the Anglican Bishop came to protest against the 
introduction of State Lotteries. 
At a quarter past William came from Sir Samson Courte- 
ney to discuss the possibility of making a road out to the 
Legation. William and Basil did not like each other. 
At half-past the Lord Chamberlain came to consult about 
cookery. A banquet was due to some Wanda notables next 
B.M.-I 129 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
week. Seth had forbidden raw beef. What was he to give 
them? 'Raw beef,' said Basil. 'Can it steak tartare.' 
'That is in accordance with modern thought?' 
'Perfectly. ' 
At noon Basil went to see the Emperor. 
The heat, rarely intolerable in the hills, was at this time 
of day penetrating and devitalizing. The palace roofs glared 
and shimmered. A hot breeze lifted the dust and powdered 
the bodies of the dangling courtiers and carried across the 
yard a few waste shreds of paper, baked crisp and brittle as 
dead leaves. Basil sauntered with half-shut eyes to the main 
entrance. 
Soldiers stood up and saluted clumsily; the captain of the 
guard trotted after him and plucked at his sleeve. 
'Good morning, captain.' 
'Good morning, Excellency. You are on your way to the 
Emperor?' 
'As usual.' 
'There is a small matter. If 1 could interest your excel- 
lency. . . It is about the two gentlemen who were hanged. 
One was my cousin.' 
'Yes?' 
'His post has not yet been filled. It has always been held 
by my family. My uncle has made a petition to His Majesty 


'Yes, yes. I will speak on his behalf.' 
'But that is exactly what you must not do. My uncle is a 
wicked man, Excellency. It was he who poisoned my father. 
1 am sure of it. He wanted my mother. It would be most 
unjust for him to have the post. There is my little brother - 
a man of supreme ability and devotion . . .' 
'Very well, captain, I'll do what 1 can.' 
'The angels preserve your excellency.' 
The Emperor's study was strewn with European papers 
130 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
and cataJogues; his immediate concern was a large plan of 
Debra Dowa on which he was working with ruler and pencil. 
'Come in, Seal, I'm just rebuilding the city. The Anglican 
Cathedral will have to go, I think, and all the South quarter. 
Look, here is Seth Square with the avenues radiating from 
it. I'm calling this, Boulevard Basil Seal.' 
'Good of you, Seth.' 
'And this, Avenue Connolly.' 
'Ah, I wanted to talk about him.' Basil sat down and 
approached his subject discreetly. '1 wouldn't say anything 
against him. 1 know you like him and in his rough-and- 
tumble way he's a decent soJdier. But d'you ever feel that 
he's not quite modern?' 
'He never made full use of our tank.' 
'Exactly. He's opposed to progress throughout. He wants 
to keep the army under his control. Now there's the question 
of boots. 1 don't think we told you, but the matter came 
before the Ministry and we sent in a recommendation that 
the Guards should be issued with boots. It would increase 
their efficiency a hundred per cent. Half the sick list is due 
to hook-worm which as you know comes from going about 
barefooted. Besides, you know, there's the question of pres- 
tige. There's not a single Guards regiment in Europe with- 
out boots. You've seen them for yourself at Buckingham 
Palace. You'll never get the full respect of the powers until 
you give your troops boots.' 
'Yes, yes, by aU means. They shaH have boots at once.' 
'1 was sure you'd see it that way. But the trouble is that 
Connolly's standing out against it. Now we've no power at 
present to issue an army ordinance. That has to come 
through him - or through you as commander-in-chief of the 
army. ' 
'I'll make out an order today. Of course they must have 
boots. I'll hang any man 1 see barefooted.' 
151 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Fine. 1 thought you'd stand by us, Seth. You know,' he 
added reflectively, 'we've got a much easier job now than 
we should have had fifty years ago. If we'd had to modernize 
a country then it would have meant constitutional monarchy, 
bi-camerallegisJature, proportional representation, women's 
suffrage, independent judicature, freedom of the Press, re- 
ferendums . . .' 
'What is all that?' asked the Emperor. 
'Just a few ideas that have ceased to be modern.' 
Then they settled down to the business of the day. 
'The British Legation are complaining again about their 
road. ' 
'That is an old question. I am tired of it. Besides, you will 
see from the plan I have orientated all the roads leading out 
of the capital; they go by the points of the compass. 1 cannot 
upset my arrangements.' 
'The Minister feels very strongly about it.' 
'Wen, another time . . . no, I tell you what I will do. 
Look, we will name this street after him. Then he will be 
satisfied. ' 
The Emperor took up his indiarubber and erased Con- 
nolly's name from the new metropolis. Avenue Sir Samson 
Courteney he wrote in its place. 
'I wish we had a tube railway,' he said. 'Do you think it 
would pay?' 
'No.' 
'So 1 feared. But one day we will have one. Listen. You 
can tell Sir Samson that. When there is a tube railway he 
shall have a private station in the Legation compound. Now 
listen; I have had a letter from the Society for the Preven- 
tion of Cruelty to Animals. They want to send out a Com- 
mission to investigate Wanda methods of hunting. Is it 
cruel to spear lions, do you think?' 
'No.' 


132 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'No. However, here is the letter. From Dame Mildred 
Porch. Do you know her?' 
'I've heard of her. An intolerable old gas-bag.' 
'What is gas-bag? An orator?' 
'Yes, in a way.' 
'Well, she is returning from South Africa and wishes to 
spend a week here. I will say yes?' 
'I shouldn't.' 
'I will say yes. . . And another thing. I have been reading 
in my papers about something very modern called Birth 
Control. What is it?' 
Basil explained. 
'I must have a lot of that. You will see to it. Perhaps it is 
not a matter for an ordinance, what do you think? We must 
popularize it by propaganda - educate the people in sterility. 
We might have a little pageant in its honour . . .' 


Sir Samson accepted the rebuff to his plans with charac- 
teristic calm. 'Well, well, I don't suppose young Seth will 
keep his job long. There's bound to be another revolution 
soon. The boy's head over heels in debt, they tell me. I dare 
say the next government, whoever they are, will be able to 
afford something. And anyway, you may laugh at me, Pru- 
dence, but 1 think it's uncommonly decent of the young 
fellow to name that avenue after me. I've always liked him. 
You never know. Debra Dowa may become a big city one 
day. I like to think of all the black johnnies in a hundred 
years' time driving up and down in their motor-cars and 
going to the shops and saying "Number a hundred Samson 
Courteney" and wondering who I was. Like, like. . .' 
'Like the Avenue Victor Hugo, Envoy.' 
'Exactly, or St James's Square.' 
But the question of the boots was less easily settled. 
On the afternoon of the day when the new ordinance was 
133 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
issued, Basil and Mr Y oukoumian were in conference. A 
major difficulty had arisen with regard to the plans for the 
new guest house at the Palace. The Emperor had been cap- 
tivated by some photographs he had discovered in a German 
architectural magazine and had decided to have the new 
building constructed of steel and vita-glass. Basil had spent 
half the morning in a vain attempt to persuade the royal 
mind that this was not a style at all suitable to his tropical 
climate and he was now at work with his financial secretary 
on a memorandum of the prohibitive extravagance of the 
new plans, when the door was pushed noisily open and the 
Duke of Ukaka strode into the room. 
'Clear out, Youkoumian,' he said. '1 want to talk to your 
boss. ' 
'O.K., General. I'll 'op off. No offence.' 
'Nonsense. Mr Y oukoumian is financial secretary of the 
Ministry. I should like him to be present at our interview.' 
'What, me, Mr. Seal? 1 got nothing to say to the General.' 
'I wish you to stay.' 
'Quick,' said the Duke, making a menacing motion to- 
wards him. 
'Very sorry, gentlemen,' said Mr Youkoumian and shot 
through the door into his own offIce. 
First trick to Connolly. 
'1 notice even that little dago has the sense to take off his 
boots. ' 
Second trick to Connolly. 
But in the subsequent interview Basil held his own. The 
General began: 'Sorry to have to sling that fellow out. Can't 
stand his smell. Now let's talk. What's all this infernal 
nonsense about boots?' 
'His Majesty's ordinance' seemed perfectly explicit to me.' 
'His Majesty's trousers. For the Lord's sake come off the 
high horse, old boy, and listen to me. I don't give a hoot in 
154 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
hell about your modernization. It's none of my business. 
You can set every damn coon in the place doing crossword 
puzzles for all I care. But I'm not going to have any monkey- 
ing about with my men. You'll lame the whole army in a 
day it you try to make 'em wear boots. Now look here, 
there's no reason why we should scrap over this. I've been 
in the country long enough to see through Youkoumian's 
game. Selling junk to government has been the staple in- 
dustry of Debra Dowa as long as I can remember it. I'd as 
soon you got the boodle as anyone else. Listen. If I tip the 
wink to the people on the line I can have the whole con- 
signment of boots carried off by Sakuyu. You'll get com- 
pensation, the ordinance will be forgotten and no one win be 
any the worse off. What do you say? Is it a deal?' 
For an appreciable time Basil hesitated in a decision of 
greater importance than either of them realized. The Gen- 
eral sat jauntily on the edge of the table bending his riding- 
cane over his knee; his expression was one of cordiality and 
of persuasive good sense. Basil hesitated. Was it some ata- 
vistic sense of a caste, an instinct of superiority, that held 
him aloof? Or was it vexed megalomania because Mr Y ou- 
koumian had trotted so obediently from the room in his 
stockinged feet? 
'You should have made your representations before,' he 
said. 'The tone of your first note made discussion impossible. 
The boots will be issued to the war department next week.' 
'Bloody young fool,' said Connolly and took his leave. 
As the door opened Mr Y oukoumian hastily stepped back 
from the keyhole. The General pushed past him and left the 
Ministry. 
'Oh,Mr Seal, why the 'ell do you want a bust-up with 'im 
for? Look, how about I go after 'im and fix it, eh,Mr Seal?' 
'You won't do anything of the sort. We'll carry right on 
with the plans for the pageant of contraception.' 
135 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Oh dear, oh dear, Mr Seal, there ain't no sense at all in 
'aving bust-ups.' 


News of the rupture spread like plague through the town. It 
was first-class gossip. The twenty or so spies permanently 
maintained by various interests in the Imperial Household 
carried tidings of the split through the Legations and com- 
mercial houses; runners informed the Earl of Ngumo; Black 
Bitch told her hairdresser; a Eurasian bank clerk told his 
manager and the bank manager told the Bishop; Mr Y ou- 
koumian recounted the whole incident in graphic gesture 
over the bar of the Empereur Seth; Connolly swore hide- 
ously about it at the Perroquet to Prince Fyodor; the Minis- 
ter of the Interior roared out a fa nt astic all y distorted version 
to the assembled young ladies of the leading maison de 
societe. That evening there was no dinner table of any im- 
portance in Debra Dowa where the subject was not discussed 
in detail. 
'Pity,' remarked Sir Samson Courteney. 'I suppose this'll 
mean that young Seal will be coming up here more than 
ever. Sorry, Prudence, I dare say he's all right, but the truth 
is I can never find much to say to the chap. . . interested in 
different things . . . always going on about local politics . . . 
Damn fool thing to quarrel about, anyway. Why shouldn't 
he wear boots if he wants to?' 
'That wasn't quite the point, Envoy.' 
'Well, it was something of the kind, I know.' 


'Ha! Ha!' said Monsieur Ballon. 'Here is a thing Sir Samson 
did not foresee. Where is his fine web now, eh? Gossamer in 
the wind. Connolly is our man.' 
'Alas, blind, trusting husband, if he only knew,' mur- 
mured the first to the second secretary. 
136 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'The Seal-Courteney faction and their puppet emperor 
have lost the allegiance of the army. We must consolidate 
our party.' 
It was in this way it happened that next morning there 
occurred an event unique in B]ack Bitch's experience. She 
was in the yard in front of her house laundering some of the 
General's socks (for she could not bear another woman to 
touch her man's clothes), chewing nut and meditatively 
spitting the dark juice into the soap-suds, when a lancer dis- 
mounted before her in the crimson and green uniform of 
the French Legation. 
'Her Grace the Duchess of Ukaka.' 
She lifted her dress, so as not to soil it, and wiped her 
hands on her knickers. 'Me,' she said. 
The man saluted, handed her a large envelope, saluted 
again, mounted and rode away. 
The Duchess was left alone with her large envelope; she 
squatted on her heels and examined it, turning it this way 
and that, holding it up to her ear and shaking it, her head 
sagely cocked on one side. Then she rose, padded into the 
house and across the hall to her bedroom; there, after circum- 
spection, she raised a loose corner of the fibre matting and 
slipped the letter beneath it. 
Two or three times during the next hour she left her 
wash-tub to see if her treasure was safe. At noon the 
General returned to luncheon and she handed it over to him, 
to await his verdict. 
'Rullo, Black Bitch, what do you suppose this is? Madame 
BaHon wants to us dine at the French Legation tomorrow.' 
'You go?' 
'But it's for both of us, old girl. The invitation is ad- 
dressed to you. What d'you think of that?' 
'Oh, my! Me dine with Madame Ballon! Oh my, that's 
good! ' 


137 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
The Duchess couJd not contain her excitement; she threw 
back her head, rolled her eyes, and emitting deep gurgles of 
pleasure began spinning about the room like a teetotum. 
'Good for the old geeser,' said the Duke, and later when 
the acceptance was written and dispatched by the hand of 
the Imperial Guard's most inspiring sergeant-major, and 
Connolly had answered numerous questions about the pro- 
per conduct of knife, fork, glass and gloves, and the Duchess 
had gone bustling off to Mr Youkoumian's store for ribbon 
and gold braid and artificial peonies to embellish her party 
frock, he went back to barracks with unusual warmth at 
heart towards the French Legation, remarking again, 'Good 
for the old geeser. He's the first person who's troubled to ask 
Black Bitch to anything in eight years. And wasn't she 
pleased as Punch about it too, bless her black heart?' 
As the time approached Black Bitch's excitement became 
almost alarming and her questions on etiquette so searching 
that the General was obliged to thump her soundly on the 
head and lock her in a cupboard for some hours before she 
could be reduced to a condition sufficiently subdued for 
diplomatic society. The dinner party, however, was a great 
success. The French Legation were there in full force, the 
director of the railway with his wife and daughters, and 
Lord Boaz, the Minister for the Interior. Black Bitch as 
Duchess of Ukaka took precedence and sat beside M. BaHon, 
who spoke to her in English in praise of her husband's 
military skill, influence and discretion. Any small errors in 
deportment which she may have committed were com- 
pletely eclipsed by the Minister for the Interior who com- 
plained of the food, drank far too much, pinched the ladies 
on either side of him, pocketed a dozen cigars and a silver 
pepper mill which happened to take his fancy, and later in 
the drawing-room insisted on dancing by himself to the 
gramophone until his slaves appeared to hoist him into his 
138 



BLACK. MISCHIEF 
car and carry him back to Mme 'Fifi', of whose charms he 
had been loudly boasting throughout the evening with a 
splendour of anatomicaJ detail which was, fortunately, un- 
intelligible to many of the people present. 
In the dining-room when the succession of wines finally 
ended with the few ceremonial spoonfuls of sweet cham- 
pagne and the men were left alone - the Minister for the 
Interior being restrained with difficulty from too precipi- 
tately following the ladies - M. Ballon signalled for a bottle 
of eau de vie and, moving round to the General's side, filled 
his glass and prompted him to some frank criticism of the 
Emperor and the present regime. 
In the drawing-room the French ladies crowded about 
their new friend, and before the evening was out several of 
them, including Madame Ballon, had dropped the' Duchess' 
and were on terms of calling her 'Black Bitch'. They asked 
her to come and see their gardens and children, they offered 
to teach her tennis and piquet, they advised her about an 
Armenian dressmaker in the town and a Hindu fortune- 
teller; they were eager to lend her the patterns of their 
pyjamas; they spoke seriously of pills; best of all they in- 
vited her to sit on the committee which was being organized 
in the French colony to decorate a car for the forthcoming 
Birth-Control Gala. There was no doubt about it; the Con- 
nol1ys had made the French set. 
Ten days later the boots arrived at Debra Dowa; there 
were some formalities to be observed, but these were ren- 
dered simple by the fact that the departments involved were 
now under the control of the Ministry of Modernization. 
Mr 
 oukoumian drew up an application to himself from the 
Ministry of War for the delivery of the boots; he made out a 
chit from the War Office to the Ministry of Supplies; passed 
it on to the Treasury, examined and countersigned it, drew 
himself a cheque and in the name of the Customs and Excise 
139 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
Department allowed his own claim to rebate of duty on the 
importation of articles of 'national necessity'. The whole 
thing took ten minutes. A few hours later a thousand pairs 
of black boots had been dumped in the square of the Guards 
barracks, where a crowd of soldiers rapidJy col1ected and 
studied them throughout the entire afternoon with vivid 
but nervous interest. 
That evening there was a special feast in honour of the 
boots. Cook-pots steaming over the wood fires; hand drums 
beating; bare feet shuffling unforgotten tribal rhythms; a 
thousand darkies crooning and swaying on their haunches, 
white teeth flashing in the fire-light. 
They were still at it when Connolly returned from dinner 
at the French consulate. 
'What in hell are the boys making whoopee for tonight? 
It's not one of their days, is it?' 
'Yes, General, very big day,' said the sentry. 'Boots day.' 
The singing reached Basil as he sat at his writing-table at 
the Ministry, working long after midnight at the penal code. 
'What's going on at the barracks?' he asked the servant. 
'Boots.' 
'They like 'em, eh?' 
'They like 'em fine.' 
'That's one in the eye for Connolly,' he said, and next 
day, meeting the General in the Palace yard, he could not 
forbear to mention it. 'So the boots went down all right with 
your men after all, Connolly.' 
'They went down.' 
'No cases of lameness yet, I hope?' 
The Generalleant over in his saddle and smiled pleasant! y. 
'No cases of lameness,' he replied. 'One or two of bellyache, 
though. I'm just writing a report on the matter to the 
Commissioner of Supplies - that's our friend Youkoumidn, 
isn't it? You see, my adjutant made rather a silly mistake. 
14-0 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
He hadn't had much truck with boots before and the silly 
fellow thought they were extra rations. My men ate the 
whole bag of tricks last night.' 


Dust in the air; a light wind rattling the leaves in the 
eucalyptus trees. Prudence sat over the Panorama of Life 
gazing through the window across the arid Legation croquet 
lawn; dun grass rubbed bare between the hoops, a few sap- 
less stalks in the beds beyond. She drew little arabesques in 
the corners of the page and thought about love. 
It was the dry season before the rains, when the cattle on 
the hills strayed miles from their accustomed pastures and 
herdsmen came to blows over the brackish dregs of the 
drinking holes; when, preceded by a scutter of children, 
lions would sometimes appear, parading the streets of the 
town in search of water; when Lady Courteney remarked 
that her herbaceous borders were a positive eye-sore. 
How out of tune with Nature is the spirit of man! wrote 
Prudence in her sprawling, schoolroom characters. When 
the earth proclaims its fertility, in running brooks, bursting 
seed, mating of birds and frisking of lambs, then the thoughts 
of man turn to athletics and horticulture, water-colour paint- 
ing and amateur theatricals. Now in the arid season when 
Nature seems all dead under the cold earth, there is nothing to 
think about except sex. She bit her pen and read it through, 
substituting hot soil for cold earth. 'I am sure I've got some- 
thing wrong in the first part,' she thought, and called to 
Lady Courteney who, watering-can in hand, was gloomily 
surveying a withered rose tree. 'Mum, how soon after the 
birds mate are the lambs born?' 
'Eggs, dear, not lambs,' said her mother and pottered off 
towards some azalea roots which were desperately in need of 
water. 


141 



"BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Damn the panorama of life,' said Prudence, and she 
began drawing a series of highly stylized profiles which by 
an emphasis of the chin and disordering of the hair had 
ceased during the last six weeks to be portraits of William 
and had come to represent Basil Seal. 'To think that I 
wanted to be in love so much,' she thought, 'that I even 
practised on William.' 
'Luncheon,' said her mother, repassing the window. 'And 
I shall be late again. Do go in and be bright to your 
father. ' 
But when Lady Courteney joined them in the dining- 
room she found father, daughter and William sitting in 
moody silence. 
'Tinned asparagus,' said Sir Samson. 'And a letter from 
the Bishop.' 
'He's not coming out to dinner again?' 
'No, no, it isn't as bad as that. But apparently Seth wants 
to pull down his Cathedral for some reason. What does he 
expect me to do about it I should like to know? Shocking 
ugly building, anyhow. I wish, Prudence and William, 
you'd take the ponies out this afternoon. They haven't had 
any proper exercise for days.' 
'Too hot,' said Prudence. 
'Too busy,' said William. 
'Oh, well,' said Sir Samson Courteney. And later he re- 
marked to his wife: 'I say, there isn't any trouble between 
those two, is there? They used to be such pals.' 
'I've been meaning to mention it for some time, Sam, 
only I was so worried about the antirrhinums. I don't think 
Prudence is at all herself. D'you think it's good for a girl 
of her age living at this height all the year round? It might 
be an idea to send her back to England for a few months. 
Harriet could put her up in Belgrave Place. I'm not sure it 
wouldn't be a good thing for her to go out in London for a 
142 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
season and meet some people of her own age. What d'you 
think?' 
'I dare say you're right. All that What-d'you-call-it of 
Life she keeps working away at . . . Only you must write to 
Harriet. I'm far too busy at the moment. Got to think of 
something to say to the Bishop.' 
But next day Prudence and Wil1iam went out with the 
ponies. She had an assignation with Basil. 
'Listen, William, you're to go out of the city by the lane 
behind the Baptist school and the Jewish abattoirs, then 
past the Parsee death-house and the fever hospital.' 
'Not exactly the prettiest ride.' 
'Darling, don't be troublesome. You might get seen the 
other way. Once you're clear of the Arab cemetery you can 
go where you like. And you're to fetch me at Y oukoumian's 
at five.' 
'Jolly afternoon for me leading Mischief all the time.' 
'Now, William, you know you manage him perfectly. 
You're the only person I'd trust to take him. I can't leave 
him outside Y oukoumian's, can I, because of discretion.' 
'What you don't seem to see is that it's pretty dim for 
me, floundering about half the day, I mean, in a dust heap 
with two ponies while you neck with the chap who's cut 
me out.' 
'William, don't be coarse. And anyway, "cut you out" 
nothing. You had me all to yourself for six months and 
weren't you just bored blue with it?' 
'Wen, I dare say he'll be bored soon.' 
'Cad. ' 
Basil still lived in the large room over Mr Y oukoumian's 
store. There was a verandah, facing on to a yard littered 
with scrap iron and general junk, accessible by an outside 
staircase. Prudence passed through the shop, out and up. 
The atmosphere of the room was rank with tobacco smoke. 
143 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
Basil, in shirt-sleeves, rose from the deck-chair to greet 
her. He threw the butt of his Burma cheroot into the tin 
hip-bath which stood unemptied at the side of the bed; it 
sizzled and went out and floated throughout the afternoon, 
slowly unfurling in the soapy water. He bolted the door. It 
was half dark in the room. Dusty parallels of light struck 
through the shutters on to the floor-boards and the few 
shabby mats. Prudence stood isolated, waiting for him, her 
hat in her hand. At first neither spoke. Presently she said, 
'You might have shaved,' and then 'Please help with my 
boots. ' 
Below, in the yard, Madame Youkoumian upbraided a 
goat. Strips of sunlight traversed the floor as an hour passed. 
In the bath water, the soggy stub of tobacco emanated a 
brown blot of juice. 
Banging on the door. 
'Heavens,' said Prudence, 'that can't be William already.' 
'Mr Seal, Mr Seal.' 
'Well, what is it? I'm resting.' 
'Well, you got to stop,' said Mr Youkoumian. 'They're 
looking for you an over the town. Damn fine rest I've had 
this afternoon, like 'ell 1 'aven't.' 
'What is it?' 
'Emperor must see you at once. 'E's got a new idea. Very 
modern and important. Some damn fool nonsense about 
Swedish drill.' 
Basil hurried to the Palace to find his master in a state 
of high excitement. 
'1 have been reading a German book. We must draft a 
decree at once. . . Communal physical exercises. The whole 
population, every morning, you understand. And we must 
get instructors from Europe. Cable for them. Quarter of an 
hour's exercise a morning. And community singing. That is 
very important. The health of the nation depends on it. I 
144 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
have been thinking it over. Why is there no cholera in 
Europe? Because of community singing and physical jerks 
. . . and bubonic plague . . . and leprosy.' 
Back in her room Prudence reopened the Panorama of 
Life and began writing: a woman in love. . . 


'A woman,' said Mr Youkoumian. 'That's what Seth needs 
to keep 'im quiet. A]ways sticking 'is nose in too much 
everyw here. You listen to me, Mr Seal - if we can fix Seth 
with a woman our modernization will get along damn fine.' 
'There's always Fifi.' 
'Oh Mr Seal, 'e 'ad 'er when 'e was a little boy. Don't 
you worry. I'll fix it O.K.' 
Royal interruptions of the routine of the Ministry were 
becoming distressingly frequent in the last few days as the 
Emperor assimilated the various books that had arrived for 
him by the last mail. Worst of all, the pageant of birth 
control was proving altogether more trouble than it was 
worth; in spite of repeated remonstrances, however, it con- 
tinued to occupy the mind of the Emperor in precedence 
of all other interests. He had already renamed the site of the 
Anglican Cathedral, Place Marie Stopes. 
'Heaven knows what will happen if he ever discovers 
psycho-analysis,' remarked Basil, gloomily foreseeing a 
Boulevard Kraft-Ebing, an Avenue Oedipus and a pageant 
of coprophagists. 
'He'll discover every damn modern thing,' said Mr You- 
koumian, 'if we don't find him a woman damn quick. . . 
'ere's another letter from the Vicar Aposto]ic. If I 'adn't 
ordered all that stuff from Cairo I'd drop the whole pageant. 
But you can't use it for nothing else but what it's for - so 
far as I can see, not like boots what they can eat.' 
The opposition to the pageant was firm and widespread. 
B.M.-K 145 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
The Conservative Party rallied under the leadership of the 
Earl of Ngumo. This nobleman, himself one of a family of 
forty-eight (most of whom he had been obliged to assassinate 
on his succession to the title), was the father of over sixty 
sons and uncounted daughters. This progeny was a favourite 
boast of his; in fact, he maintained a concert party of seven 
minstrels for no other purpose than to sing at table about 
this topic when he entertained friends. Now in ripe age, 
with his triumphs behind him, he found himself like some 
scarred war veteran surrounded by pacifists, his prestige 
assailed and his proudest achievements held up to vile de- 
traction. The new proposals struck at the very roots of sport 
and decency and he expressed the general feeling of the 
landed gentry when he threatened amid louds grunts of 
approval to dismember any man on his estates whom he 
found using the new-fangled and impious appliances. 
The smart set, composed (under the leadership of Lord 
Boaz) of cosmopolitan blacks, courtiers, younger sons and a 
few of the decayed Arab intelligentsia, though not actively 
antagonistic, were tepid in their support; they discussed the 
question languidly in Fifi's salon and, for the most part, 
adopted a sophisticated attitude maintaining that of course 
they had always known about these things, but why invite 
trouble by all this publicity; at best it would only make 
contraception middle-class. In any case this circle was always 
suspect to the popular mind and their allegiance was unlikely 
to influence public opinion in the Emperor's favour. 
The Churches came out strong on the subject. No one 
could reasonably accuse the Nestorian Patriarch of fanatical 
moral inflexibility - indeed there had been incidents in his 
Beatitude's career when all but grave scandal had been 
caused to the faithful - but whatever his personal indul- 
gence, his theology had always been unimpeachable. When- 
ever a firm lead was wanted on a question of opinion, the 
146 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
Patriarch had been willing to forsake his pleasures and pro- 
nounce freely and intransigently for the tradition he had 
inherited. There had been the ugly affair of the Metropoli- 
tan of Matodi who had proclaimed himself fourth member 
of the Trinity; there was the parish priest who was unsound 
about the Dual Will; there was the ridiculous heresy that 
sprang up in the province of Mhomala that the prophet 
Esaias had wings and lived in a tree; there was the painful 
case of the human sacrifices at the Bishop of Popo's conse- 
cration - on all these and other uncertain topics the Patri- 
arch had given proof of a sturdy orthodoxy. 
Now, on the question of Birth Control, his Beatitude left 
the faithful in no doubt as to where their duty lay. As head 
of the Established Church he called a conference which was 
attended by the Chief Rabbi, the Mormon Elder and the 
chief representatives of all the creeds of the Empire; only 
the Anglican Bishop excused himself, remarking in a cour- 
teous letter of refusal, that his work lay exclusively among 
the British community who, since they were already fully 
informed and equipped in the matter, could scarcely be 
injured in any way by the Emperor's new policy; he wished 
his Beatitude every success in the gallant stand he was mak- 
ing for the decencies of family life, solicited his prayers and 
remarked that he was himself too deeply embroiled with the 
progressive party, who were threatening the demolition of 
his Cathedral, to confuse the issue with any other cause, 
however laudable it might be in itself. 
As a result of the conference, the Patriarch composed an 
encyclical in rich, oratorical style and dispatched copies of 
it by runners to all parts of the island. Had the influence 
of the Established Church on the popuJar mind been more 
weighty, the gala should have been doomed, but, as has 
already been mentioned, the Christianizing of the country 
was still so far incomplete that the greater part of the Empire 
147 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
retained with a minimum of disguise their older and grosser 
beliefs, and it was, in fact, from the least expected quarter, 
the tribesmen and villagers, that the real support of Seth's 
policy suddenly appeared. 
This development was due directly and solely to the power 
of advertisement. In the dark days when the prejudice of 
his people compassed him on every side and even Basil 
spoke unsympathetically of the wisdom of postponing the 
gala, the Emperor found among the books that were mailed 
to him monthly from Europe a collection of highly inspiring 
Soviet posters. At first the difficulties of imitation appeared 
to be insuperable. The Courier office had no machinery for 
reproducing pictures. Seth was contemplating the wild 
expedient of employing slave labour to copy his design when 
Mr Y oukoumian discovered that some years ago an enter- 
prising philanthropist had by bequest introduced litho- 
graphy into the curriculum of the American Baptist school. 
The apparatus survived the failure of the attempt. Mr You- 
koumian purchased it from the pastor and resold it at a fine 
profit to the Department of Fine Arts in the Ministry of 
Modernization. An artist was next found in the Armenian 
colony who, on Mr Youkoumian's introduction, was willing 
to elaborate Seth's sketches. Final1y there resulted a large, 
highly coloured poster well calculated to convey to the 
illiterate the benefits of birth control. It was in many ways 
the highest triumph of the new Ministry and Mr Y oukou- 
mian was the hero. Copies were placarded allover Debra 
Dowa; they were sent down the line to every station latrine, 
capital and coast; they were sent into the interior to vice-regal 
lodges and headmen's huts, hung up at prisons, barracks, 
gallows and juju trees, and wherever the poster was hung 
there assembled a cluster of inquisitive, entranced Azanians. 
It portrayed two contrasted scenes. On one side a native 
hut of hideous squalor, overrun with children of every age, 
148 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
suffering from every physicaJ ifcapacity - crippled, de- 
formed, blind, spotted and insane; the father prematurely 
aged with paternity squatted by an
mpty cook-pot; through 
the door cowd be seen his wife, withered and bowed with 
child-bearing, desperately hoeing at their inadequate crop. 
On the other side a bright parlour furnished with chairs 
and table; the mother, young and beautiful, sat at her ease 
eating a huge slice of raw meat; her husband smoked a long 
Arab hubble-bubble (stiH a caste mark of leisure through- 
out the land), while a single healthy child sat between them 
reading a newspaper. Inset between the two pictures was 
a detailed drawing of some up-to-date contraceptive appara- 
tus and the words in Sakuyu: WHICH HOME DO YOU 
CHOOSE? 
Interest in the pictures was unbounded; allover the 
island woolly heads were nodding, black hands pointing, 
tongues clicking against filed teeth in unsyntactical dialects. 
Nowhere was there any doubt about the meaning of the 
beautiful new pictures. 
See: on right hand: there is rich man: smoke pipe like 
big chief: but his wife she no good; sit eating meat: and 
rich man no good: he only one son. 
See: on left hand: poor man: not much to eat: but his 
wife she very good, work hard in field: man he good too: 
eleven children: one very mad, very holy. And in the middle: 
Emperor's juju. Make you like that good man with eleven 
children. 
And as a result, despite admonitions from squire and 
vicar, the peasantry began pouring into town for the gala, 
eagerly awaiting initiation to the fine new magic of virility 
and fecundity. 
Once more, wrote Basil Seal, in a leading article in the 
Courier, the people of the Empire have overidden the oppo- 
sliion of a prejudiced and interested minority, and with no 
149 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
uncertain voice have followed the Emperor's lead in the cause 
of Progress and the New Age. 
So brisk was the demand for the Emperor's juju that 
some time before the day of the carnival Mr Youkoumian 
was frantically cab]ing to Cairo for fresh supplies. 
Meanwhile the N estorian Patriarch became a very fre- 
quent guest at the French Legation. 
'We have the army, we have the Church,' said M. BaIlon. 
'All we need now is a new candidate for the throne.' 


'If you ask me,' said Basil, one morning soon after the 
distribution of the poster, 'loyalty to the throne is one of the 
hardest parts of our job.' 
'Oh, gosh, Mr SeaI, don't you ever say a thing like that. 
I seen gentlemen poisoned dead for less. What's 'e done 
now?' 
'Only this.' He handed Mr Y oukoumian a chit which had 
just arrived from the Pa]ace: For your information and 
necessary action, I have decided to abolish the following: 
Death penalty. 
Marriage. 
The Sakuyu language and all native dialects. 
Infant mortality. 
Totemism. 
Inhuman butchery. 
Mortgages. 
Emigration. 
Please see to this. Also organize system of reservoirs for 
city's water supply and draft syllabus for competitive exam- 
ination for public services. Suggest compulsory Esperanto. 
Seth. 


"E's been reading books again, Mr Seal, that's what it is. 
150 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
You won't get no peace from 'im not till you fix 'im with a 
woman. Why can't 'e drink or something?' 
In fact, the Ministry's triumph in the matter of Birth 
Control was having highly embarrassing consequences. If 
before, Basil and Mr Y oukoumian had cause to lament their 
master's tenacity and singleness of purpose, they were now 
harassed from the opposite extreme of temperament. It was 
as though Seth's imagination like a volcanic lake had in the 
moment of success become suddenly swollen by the irrup- 
tion of unsuspected subterranean streams until it darkened 
and seethed and overflowed its margins in a thousand tur- 
bulent cascades. The earnest and rather puzzled young man 
became suddenly capricious and volatile; ideas bubbled up 
within him, bearing to the surface a confused sediment of 
phrase and theory, scraps of learning half understood and 
fantastically translated. 
'It's going to be awkward for us if the Emperor goes off 
his rocker.' 
'Oh my, Mr Seal, you do say the most damned dangerous 
things. ' 
That afternoon Basil called at the Palace to discuss the 
new proposals, only to find that since his luncheon the Em- 
peror's interests had veered suddenly towards archaeology. 
'Yes, yes, the abolitions. I sent you a list this morning, 
I think. It is a mere matter of routine. I leave the details 
to the Ministry. Only you must be quick, please. . . it is 
not that which I want to discuss with you now. It is our 
Museum. ' 
'Museum?' 
'Yes, of course we must have a Museum. I have made a 
few notes to guide you. The only serious difficulty is ac- 
commodation. You see, it must be inaugurated before the 
arrival of the Cruelty to Animals Commission at the be- 
ginning of next month. There is hardly time to build a house 
151 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
for it. The best thing will be to confiscate one of the town 
palaces. Ngumo's or Boaz's would do after some slight ad- 
justments. But that is a matter for the Ministry to decide. 
On the ground floor will be the natural history section. You 
will collect examples of all the flora and fauna of the Empire 
-lions, butterflies, birds' eggs, specimens of woods, every- 
thing. That should easily fill the ground floor. I have been 
reading,' he added earnestly, 'about ventilation. That is 
very important. The air in the cases must be continually 
renewed - a cubic metre an hour is about the right draught 
- otherwise the specimens suffer. You win make a careful 
note of that. Then on the first floor will be the anthropo- 
logical and historical section - examples of native craft, 
Portuguese and Arab work, a small library. Then in the 
Central Hall, the relics of the Royal House. 1 have some of 
the medals of Amurath upstairs under one of the beds in a 
box - photographs of myself, some of my uniforms, the cap 
and gown 1 wore at Oxford, the model of the Eiffel Tower 
which 1 brought back from Paris. 1 will lend some pages of 
manuscript in my own hand to be exhibited. It will be most 
interesting. ' 
For some days Mr Y oukoumian busied himself with the 
collection of specimens. Word went round that there was 
a market for objects of interest at the Ministry of Moderniza- 
tion and the work of the office was completely paralysed by 
the hawkers of all races who assembled in and around it, 
peddling brass pots and necklaces of carved nut, snakes in 
baskets and monkeys in cages, cloth of beaten bark and 
Japanese cotton, sacramental vessels pouched by Nestorian 
deacons, iron-wood clubs, homely household deities, tanned 
human scalps, cauls and navel strings and wonder-working 
fragments of meteorite, amulets to ward off the evil eye 
from camels, M. Ballon's masonic apron purloined by. the 
Legation butler, and a vast, monolithic phallus borne by 
152 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
three oxen from a shrine in the interior. Mr Y oukoumian 
bargained briskly and bought almost everything he was 
offered, reselling them later to the Ministry of Fine Arts 
of which Basil had created him the director. But when, at a 
subsequent interview, Basil mentioned their progress to the 
Emperor he merely nodded a listless approval, and even 
while he unscrewed the cap of his fountain pen to sign the 
order evicting the Earl of Ngumo from his town house, 
began to speak of the wonders of astronomy. 
'Do you realize the magnitude of the fixed stars? They 
are immense. I have read a book which says that the mind 
boggles at their distances. 1 did not know that word, boggles. 
1 am immediately founding an Institute for Astronomical 
Research. 1 must have Professors. Cable for them to Europe. 
Get me tiptop professors, the best procurable.' 
But next day he was absorbed in ectogenesis. 'I have read 
here,' he said, tapping a volume of speculative biology, 'that 
there is to be no more birth. The ovum is fertilized in the 
laboratory and then the foetus is matured in bottles. It is a 
splendid idea. Get me some of those bottles . . . and no 
boggling. ' 
Even while discussing the topic that immediately inter- 
ested him, he would often break off in the middle of a 
sentence, with an irrelevant question. 'How much are auto- 
gyros?' or 'Tell me exactly, please, what is Surrealism?' or 
'Are you convinced of Dreyfus' innocence?' and then, with- 
out pausing for the reply, would resume his adumbrations 
of the New Age. 
The days passed rapturously for Mr Youkoumian who 
had found, in the stocking of the Museum, work for which 
early training and an his natural instincts richly equipped 
him; he negotiated endlessly between the Ear] of Ngumo 
and Viscount Boaz, armed with orders for the dispossession 
of the lowest bidder; he bought and resold, haggled, flattered 
153 . 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
and depreciated, and ate and slept in a clutter of dubious 
antiques. But on Basil the strain of modernity began to 
leave its traces. Brief rides with Prudence through the 
tinder-dry countryside, assignations furtively kept and in- 
terrupted at a moment's notice by some peremptory, crazy 
summons to the Palace, alone broke the unquiet routine of 
his day. 
'I be]ieve that odious Emperor is slowly poisoning you. 
It's a thing he does do,' said Prudence. 'And 1 never saw 
anyone look so ill.' 
'You know it sounds absurd, but I miss ConnoHy. It's 
rather a business living all the time between Seth and 
Y oukoumian.' 
'Of course, you wouldn't remember that there's me too, 
would you?' said Prudence. 'Not just to cheer me up, you 
wouldn't. ' 
'You're a grand girl, Prudence. What Seth calls tiptop. 
But I'm so tired 1 could die.' 
And a short distance away the Legation syce moodily 
flicked with his whip at a train of ants while the ponies 
shifted restlessly among the stones and shelving earth of a 
dry watercourse. 


Two mornings later the Ministry of Modernization received 
its sharpest blow. Work was going on as usual. Mr Youkou- 
mian was interviewing a coast Arab who claimed to possess 
some 'very old, very genuine' Portuguese manuscripts; 
Basi], pipe in his mouth, was considering how best to deal 
with the Emperor's latest memorandum, Kindly insist straw 
hats and gloves compulsory peerage, when he received an 
unexpected and disturbing call from Mr Jagger, the con- 
tractor in charge of the demo]ition of the Anglican Cathedral; 
a stocky, good-hearted little Britisher who after a succession 
154 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
of quite honourable bankruptcies in Cape Town, Mombasa, 
Dar-es-Salaam and Aden had found his way to Debra Dowa 
where he had remained ever since, occupied with minor 
operations in the harbour and along the railway line. He 
threaded his way through the antiquities which had lately 
begun to encroach on Basil's office, removed a seedy-looking 
caged vulture from the chair and sat down; his manner was 
uncertain and defiant. 
'It's not playing the game, Mr Seal,' he said. 'I tell you 
that fair and square and I don't mind who knows it, not if 
it's the Emperor himself.' 
'Mr Jagger,' said Basil impressively, 'you should have 
been long enough in this country to know that that is a very 
rash thing to say. Men have been poisoned for less. What 
is your trouble?' 
'This here's my trouble,' said Mr Jagger, producing a 
piece of paper from a pocket full of pencils and foot rules 
and laying it on the table next to the mosaic portrait of 
the late Empress recently acquired by the Director of Fine 
Arts. 'What is it, eh, that's what I want to know?' 
'What indeed?' said Basil. He picked it up and examined 
it closely. 
In size, shape and texture it resembled an English five- 
pound note and was printed on both sides with intricate 
engraved devices of green and red. There was an Azanian 
eagle, a map of the Empire, a soldier in the uniform of the 
Imperial Guard, an aeroplane and a classical figure bearing 
a cornucopia, but the most prominent place was taken by a 
large medallion portrait of Seth in top hat and European 
tail coat. The words Five Pounds lay in flourished script 
across the middle; above them THE IMPERIAL BANK OF 
A Z A N I A and below them a facsimile of Seth's signature. 
The normal currency of the capital and the rai]way was 
in Indian rupees, although East African shillings, French 
155 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
and Belgian colonial francs and Maria Theresa thalers cir- 
culated with equal freedom; in the interior the mernums of 
exchange were rock-salt and cartridges. 
'This is a new one on me,' said Basil. 'I wonder if the 
Treasury know anything about it. Mr Y oukoumian, come 
in here a minute, will you?' 
The Director of Fine Arts and First Lord of the Treasury 
trotted through the partition door in his black cotton socks; 
he carried a model dhow he had just acquired. 
'No, Mr Seal,' he pronounced, 'I ain't never seen a thing 
like that before. Where did the gentleman get it?' 
'The Emperor's just given me a whole packet of them 
for the week's wages bilL What is the Imperial Bank of 
Azania, anyway? 1 never see such a thing all the time I been 
in the country. There's something here that's not on the 
square. You must understand, Mr Seal, that it's not any- 
one's job breaking up that Cathedral. Solid granite shipped 
all the way from Aberdeen. Why, Lord love you, the pulpit 
alone weighs seven and a half ton. I had two boys hurt only 
this morning through the font swinging loose as they were 
hoisting it into a lorry. Smashed up double one of them was. 
The Emperor ain't got no right to try putting that phoney 
stuff across me.' 
'You may be quite confident,' said Basil with dignity, 
'that in all your dealings with His Majesty you will en- 
counter nothing but the highest generosity and integrity. 
However, I will institute inquiries on your behalf.' 
'No offence meant, I'm sure,' said Mr Jagger. 
Basil watched him across the yard and then snatched up 
his topee from a fossilized tree-fern. 'What's that black 
lunatic been up to this time?' he asked, starting off towards 
the Palace. 
'Oh, Mr Seal, you'll get into trouble one day with the 
things you say.' 


156 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
The Emperor rose to greet him with the utmost cordiality. 
'Come in, come in. I'm very glad you've come. I'm in 
some perplexity about Nacktkultur. Here have I spent four 
weeks trying to enforce the edict prescribing trousers for 
the official classes, and now I read that it is more modern not 
to wear any at all.' 
'Seth, what's the Imperia] Bank of Azania?' 
The Emperor looked embarrassed. 
'I thought you might ask. . . Well, actually it is not quite 
a bank at all. It is a little thing I did myself. I win show you.' 
He led Basil to a high cupboard which occupied half the 
wall on one side of the library, and opening it showed him 
a dozen or so shelves stacked with what might have been 
packets of writing paper. 
'What is that?' 
'Just under three minion pounds,' said the Emperor 
proudly. 'A little surprise. I had them done in Europe.' 
'But you can't possibly do this.' 
'Oh, yes, I assure you. It was easy. All these on this shelf 
are for a thousand pounds each, and now that the plates 
have been made, it is quite inexpensive to print as many 
more as we require. You see there were a great many things 
which needed doing and I had not a great many rupees. 
Don't look angry, Seal. Look, I'll give you some.' He pressed 
a bundle of fivers into Basil's hand. 'And take some for Mr 
Y oukoumian, too. Pretty fine picture of me, eh? I wondered 
about the hat. You will see that in the fifty-pound notes I 
wear a crown.' 
For some minutes Basil attempted to remonstrate; then 
quite suddenly he abandoned the argument. 
'I knew you would understand,' said the Emperor. 'It is 
so simple. As soon as these are used up we will send for 
some more. And tOlnorrow you will explain to me about 
Nacktkultur, eh?' 


157 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
Basil returned to his office very tired. 
'There's only one thing to hope for now. That's a fire in 
the Palace to get rid of the whole lot.' 
'We must change these quick,' said Mr Youkoumian. 'I 
know a damn fool Chinaman might do it. Anyway, the 
Ministry of Fine Arts can take one at par for the historical 
section.' 
It was on that afternoon that Basil at last lost his con- 
fidence in the permanence of the One Year Plan. 


158 



Chapter Six 


FROM DAME MILDRED PORCH TO HER HUSBAND 


S.S. Le President Carnot 
Matodi 
March 8th 


My Dear Stanley, 
I am writing this before disembarking. It will be posted 
at Marseilles and should reach you as nearly as I can calcul- 
ate on 17th of the month. As I wrote to you from Durban, 
Sarah and I decided to break our return journey in Azania. 
The English boat did not stop here. So we had to change at 
Aden into this outward-bound French ship. Very dirty and 
unseamanlike. I have heard very disagreeable accounts of 
the hunting here. Apparently the natives dig deep pits into 
which the poor animals fall; they are often left in these traps 
for several days without food or water (imagine what that 
means in the heat of the jungle) and are then mercilessly 
butchered in cold blood. Of course the poor ignorant people 
know no better. But the young Emperor is by all accounts a 
comparatively enlightened and well-educated person and I am 
sure he will do all he can to introduce more humane methods 
if it is really necessary to kill these f£ne beasts at all- as I 
very much doubt. I expect to resume our journey in about a 
fortnight. I enclose cheque for another month's household 
expenses. The coal bill seemed surprisingly heavy in your 
last accounts. I hope that you are not letting the servants 
become extravagant in my absence. There is no need for the 
dining-room fire to be lit before luncheon at this time of year. 
Yours affec. 
Mildred 


159 



BLACK. MISCHIEF 


March 8th 
Disembarked Matodi 12.45. Quaint and smelly. Condition 
of mules and dogs appalling, also children. In spite of radio 
message British consul was not there to meet us. Quite civil 
native led us to his office. Tip five annas. Seemed satisfied. 
Consul not English at all. Some sort of Greek. Very unhelpful 
(probably drinks). Unable or unwilling to say when train 
starts for Debra Dowa, whether possible engage sleeper. 
Wired Legation. Went to Amurath Hotel. Positive pot-house. 
Men sitting about drinking all over terrace. Complained. 
Large bedroom overlooking harbour apparently clean. Sarah 
one of her headaches. Complained of her room over street. 
Told her very decent little room. 


March 9th 
No news of train. Sarah dlsagreeable about her room. Saw 
Roman Missionary. Unhelpful. Typical dago attitude to- 
wards animals. Later saw American Baptists. Middle-class 
and unhelpful because unable talk native languages. No 
answer Legation. Wired again. 


March 10th 
No news train. Wired Legation again. Unhelpful answer. 
Fed doggies in market-place. Children tried to take food 
from doggies. Greedy little wretches. Sarah still headache. 


March 11th 
Hotel manager suddenly announced train due to leave at 
noon. Apparently has been here all the time. Sarah very 
slow packing. Outrageous bill. Road to station blocked brown 
motor lorry. Natives living in li. Also two goats. Seemed well 
but cannot be healthy for them so near natives. Had to walk 
last quarter-mile. Afraid would miss train. Arrived with five 
minutes to spare. Got tickets, no sleepers. Just in time. V. hot 
160 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
and exhausted. Train did not start until three o'clock. Arrived 
dinnertime Lumo station where apParently we have to spend 
night. Shower bath and changed underclothes. Bed v. doubt- 
ful. Luckily remembered Keatings Durban. Interesting 
French hotel manager about local conditions. Apparently 
there was quite civil war last summer. How little the papers 
tell us. New Emperor v. goahead. English adviser named Seal. 
Any relation Cynthia Seal? Hotel man seemed to doubt 
government's financial stability. Says natives are complete 
savages but no white slave traffic - or so he says. 


March 12th 
Awful night. Bitten all over. Bill outrageous. Thought 
manager decent person too. Explained provisions hard to get. 
Humbug. Train left at seven in morning. Sarah nearly missed 
it. Two natives in carriage. I must say quite civil but v. un- 
comfortable as no corridor and had left so early. Tiring 
journey. Country seemed dry. Due in Debra Dowa some 
time this afternoon. Must say shall be thankful. 


Dame Mildred Porch and Miss Sarah Tin were in no 
way related to each other, but constant companionship and 
a simiJarity of interests had so characterized them that a 
stranger might easily have taken them to be sisters as they 
stepped from the train on to the platform at Debra Dowa. 
Dame Mildred was rather stout and Miss Tin rather spare. 
Each wore a khaki sun-hat in an oilcloth cover, each wore 
a serviceable washable frock, and thick shoes and stockings, 
each had smoked spectacles and a firm mouth. Each carried 
an attache-case containing her most inalienable possessions 
- washing things and writing things, disinfectant and in- 
secticide, books, passport, letters of credit - and held firrnJy 
to her burden in defiance of an eager succession of porters 
who attempted in turn to wrest it from her. 
B.M.-L 161 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
WilHam pushed his way forward and greeted them 
amiably. 'Dame Mildred Porch? Miss Tin? How are you? 
So glad you got here all right. I'm from the Legation. The 
Minister couldn't come himself. He's very busy just now, but 
he asked me to come along and see if you were all right. 
Any luggage? I've got a car outside and can run you up to 
the Hotel.' 
'Hotel? But I thought we should be expected at the 
Legation. I wired from Durban.' 
'Yes, the Minister asked me to explain. You see, we're 
some way out of the town. No proper road. Awful business 
getting in and out. The Minister thought you'd be much 
more comfortable in the town itself. Nearer the animals 
and everything. But he particularly said he hoped you'd 
come over to tea one day if you ever have the time.' 
Dame Mildred and Miss Tin exchanged that look of 
slighted citizenship which William had seen in the eyes of 
every visitor he had ever greeted at Debra Dowa. 'I'll tell 
you what,' he said. 'I'll go and look for the luggage. I dare 
say it's got stolen on the way. Often is, you know. And I'll 
get our mail out at the same time. No King's Messengers or 
anything here. If there's no European travelling it's put in 
charge of the guard. We thought of wiring to you to look 
after it and then we thought probably you had the devil of 
a lot of luggage yourselves.' 
By the time that the two-seater car had been loaded with 
the Legation bags and the two ladies there was very little 
room left for their luggage. 'I say, d'you mind awfully,' 
said William. 'I'm afraid we'H have to leave this trunk 
behind. The hotel'll fetch it up for you in no time.' 
, Young man, did you come to meet us or your own mail?' 
'Now, you know,' said William, 'that simply isn't a fair 
question. Off we go.' And the overladen 1ittle car began 
jolting up the broad avenue into the town. 
162 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Is this where we are to stay?' asked Miss Tin as they 
drew up opposite the Grand Cafe et Hotel Restaurant de 
l' Empereur Seth. 
'It doesn't look terribly smart,' admitted William, 'but 
you'll find it a mine of solid comfort.' 
He led them into the murky interior, dispersing a turkey 
and her brood from the Reception Hall. 'Anyone in?' There 
was a bell on the counter which he rang. 
"Ullo,' said a voice from upstairs. 'One minute,' and 
presently Mr Y oukoumian descended, buttoning up his 
trousers. 'Why, it's Mr Bland. 'UUo, sir, 'ow are you? 1 'ad 
the Minister's letter about the road this afternoon and the 
answer I am afraid is nothing doing. Very occupied, the 
Emperor . . .' 
'I've brought you two guests. They are English ladies of 
great importance. You are to make them comfortable.' 
'I fix them O.K.' said Mr Youkoumian. 
'I'm sure you'll find everything comfortable here,' said 
William. 'And I hope we shall see you soon at the Lega- 
tion. ' 
'One minute, young man, there are a number of things 
I want to know.' 
'I fix you O.K.,' said Mr Youkoumian again. 
'Yes, you ask Mr Y oukoumian here. He'll tell you every- 
thing far better than I could. Can't keep them waiting for 
the mail, you know.' 
'Impudent young puppy,' said Dame Mildred as the car 
drove away. 'I'll report him to the Foreign Office as soon 
as I get home. Stanley shall ask a question about him in 
the House.' 
Mail day at the British Legation. Sir Samson and Lady 
Courteney, Prudence and William, Mr Legge and Mrs 
Legge, Mr and Mrs Anstruther, sitting round the fireplace 
opening the bags. Bills, provisions, family news, official 
163 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
dispatches, gramophone records, newspapers scattered on 
the carpet. Presently William said, 'I say, d'you know who 
1 ran into on the platform? Those two cruelty-to-animals 
women who kept tel&graphing.' 
'How very annoying. What have you done with them?' 
'I shot them into Y oukoumian's. They wanted to come 
and stay here.' 
'Heaven forbid. I do hope they won't stay long. Ought 
we to ask them to tea or anything?' 
'Well, 1 did say that perhaps you'd like to see them some 
time. ' 
'Hang it, William, that's a bit thick.' 
'Oh, 1 don't suppose they thought 1 meant it.' 
'I sincerely hope not.' 


March 12th (continued) 
Arrived Debra Dowa late in afternoon. Discourteous cub 
from Legation met us and left Sarah's trunk at statz.on. 
Brought us to frightful hotel. But Armenian proprietor v. 
obliging. Saved me visit to bank by changing money for us 
into local currency. Quaint bank-notes with portrait of Em- 
peror in European evening dress. Mr Seal came in after 
dinner. He is Cynthia's son. V. young and ill-looking. Off- 
hand manner. V. tired, going to bed early. 


That evening M. Ballon's report included the entry. Two 
British ladies arrived, suspects. Met at station by Mr Bland. 
Proceeded Youkoumian's. 


'They are being watched?' 
'Without respite.' 
'Their luggage?' 
'A trunk was left at the station. It has been searched but 
164 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
nothing incriminating was found. Their papers are in two 
small bags which never leave their hands.' 
'Ah, they are old stagers. Sir Samson is caning out his 
last reserves.' 


March 13th Sunday 
No news Sarah's trunk. Went to Anglican Cathedral but 
found it was being pulled down. Service in Bishop's drawing- 
room. Poor congregation. V. sz1ly sermon. Spoke to Bishop 
later about cruelty to animals. Unhelpful. Old humbug. Later 
went to write name in book at Palace. Sarah in bed. Town 
very crowded, apparently preparing for some local feast 
or carnival. Asked Bishop about it but he could not tell me. 
Seemed unaccountably embarrassed. Asked Mr Youkoumian. 
Either he cannot have understood my question or I cannot 
have understood what I thought him to say. Did not press 
point. He did not speak English at all well but is an obliging 
man. 


March 14th 
Hideous night. Mosquito in net and v. large brown bugs 
in bed. Up and dressed at dawn and went for long walk. in 
hills. Met quaint caravan - drums, spears, etc. No news 
Sarah's trunk. 


Other people besides Dame Mildred were interested in 
the little cavalcade which had slipped unobtrusively out of 
the city at dawn that day. Unobtrusively, in this connec- 
tion, is a relative term. A dozen running slaves had preceded 
the procession, followed by a train of pack mules; then ten 
couples of mounted spearmen, a platoon of uniformed Im- 
perial Guardsmen and a mounted band, blowing down reed 
flutes eight feet long and beating hand drums of hide and 
wood. In the centre on a mule loaded with silver and velvet 
trappings, had riddeD a stout figure, heavily muffled in silk 
165 



LP'LSENJ 

 

 


'Frightful hotel. But Armenian proprietor 
v. obliging.' 


166 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
shawls. It was the Earl of Ngumo travelling incognito on a 
mission of great delicacy. 
'Ngumo left town today. I wonder what he's after.' 
'I think the Earl's pretty fed up, Mr Seal. I take his 'ouse 
Saturday for the Museum. 'E's gone back to 'is estates, I 
expect. ' 
'Estates, nothing. He's left five hundred men in camp 
behind him. Besides, he left on the Popo road. That's not 
his way home.' 
'Oh gosh, Mr Seal, I 'ope there ain't going to be no 
bust-up. ' 
Only three people in Debra Dowa knew the reason for 
the Earl's departure. They were M. Ballon, General Con- 
nolly and the Nestorian Patriarch. They had dined together 
on Saturday night at the French Legation, and after dinner, 
when Mme Bailon and Black Bitch had withdrawn to the 
salon to discuss their hats and physical disorders, and the 
sweet champagne frothed in the shallow glasses, the Patri- 
arch had with considerable solemnity revealed his carefully 
guarded secret of State. 
'It happened in the time of Gorgias, my predecessor, of 
evil memory,' said his Beatitude, 'and the intelligence was 
delivered to me on my assumption of office, under a seal so 
holy that only extreme personal vexation induces me to 
break it. It concerns poor little Achon. I say "poor little" 
although he must now, if he survives at all, be a man at 
least ninety years of age, greatly my own senior. He, as you 
know, was the son of the Great Amurath and it is popularly 
supposed that a lioness devoured him while hunting with his 
sister's husband, Seyid, in the Ngumo mountains. My 
Lords, nothing of the kind happened. By order of his sister 
and the Patriarch Gorgias the wretched boy was taken while 
under the influence of liquor to the monastery of St Mark 
the Evangelist and incarcerated there.' 
167 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'But this is a matter of vital importance,' cried M. BaIlon. 
'Is the man still alive?' 
'Who can say? To tell you the truth I have not visited 
the Monastery of St Mark the Evangelist. The Abbot is 
inclined to the lamentable heresy that the souls in hell 
marry and beget hobgoblins. He is pertinacious in error. I 
sent the Bishop of Popo there to reason with him and they 
drove the good man out with stones.' 


'Would they accept an order of release over your signature?' 
'It is painful to me to admit it, but I am afraid they would 
not. It will be a question of hard cash or nothing.' 
'The Abbot may name his own price. I must have Achon 
here in the capita1. Then we shall be ready to strike.' 
The bottle circulated and before they left for the draw- 
ing-room M. BalIan reminded them of the gravity of the 
occasion. 'Gentlemen. This is an important evening in the 
history of East Africa. The future of the country and per- 
haps our own lives depend on the maintenance of absolute 
secrecy in regard to the Earl of Ngumo's expedition on 
Monday. AU inside this room are sworn to inviolable 
silence. ' 
As soon as his guests were gone he assembled his sub- 
ordinates and explained the latest developments; before 
dawn the news was in Paris. On the way home in the car 
Connolly told Black Bitch about it. 'But it's supposed to be 
secret for a little, so keep your silly mouth shut, see.' 


March 14th (continued) 
As Keatings obviously deteriorated, went to store attached 
hotel to buy some more. Met native Duchess who spoke English. 
]7. helpful re bugs. Went with her to her home where she gave 
me insecticide of her own preparation. Gave me tea and 
168 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
biscuits. V. interesting conversation. She told me that it has 
just been discovered that Emperor is not real heir to the throne. 
Elderly uncle in prison. They have gone to get him out. Most 
romantic, but hope new Emperor equally enlightened re 
animals. 
March 15th 
Better night. Native Duchess's insecticide v. helpful though 
nasty smell. Received invitation dine Palace tonight. Short 
notice but thought it best accept for us both. Sarah says nothing 
to wear unless trunk turns up. 


It was the first time since Seth's accession that European 
visitors had been entertained at the Palace. The Ministry 
of Modernization was called in early that morning to super- 
vise the invitations and the menu. 
'It shall be an entirely Azanian party. I want the English 
ladies to see how refined we are. I was doubtful about asking 
Viscount Boaz. What do you think? Will he be sober? . . . 
and there is the question of food. I have been reading that 
now it is called Vitamins. I am having the menu printed 
like this. It is good, modern, European dinner, eh?' 
Basil looked at the card. A month ago he might have 
suggested emendations. Today he was tired. 
'That's fine, Seth, go ahead 1ike that.' 
'You see,' said the Emperor proudly, 'already we Azanians 
can do much for ourselves. Soon we shall not need a Minister 
of Modernization. No, I do not mean that, Basil. Always 
you are my friend and adviser.' 
So the menu for Seth's first dinner party went to the 
Courier office to be printed and came back a packet of 
handsome gilt-edged cards, laced with silk ribbons in the 
Azanian colours and embossed with a gold crown. 
'It is so English,' explained Seth. 'From courtesy to your 
great Empire.' 


169 



BLACK MISCHIEF 


.. 


MARCH 15TH 
Imperial Banquet for Welcoming the English 
Cruelty to Animab; 
MENU OF FOODS 


VIT AMIN A 
Tin Sardines 
VIT AMIN B 
Roasted Beef 
VIT AMIN C 
Small Roasted Sucking Porks 
VIT AMIN D 
Hot Sheep and Onions 


VIT AMIN E 
Spiced Turkey 
VIT AMIN F 
Sweet Puddings 
VIT AMIN G 
Coffee 
VIT AMIN H 
Jam 


At eight o'clock that evening Dame Mildred and Miss 
Tin arrived at the Palace for the banquet. The electric- 
light plant was working that evening and a string of coloured 
bulbs shone with Christmas welcome over the main door- 
way. A strip of bright linoleum had been spread on the steps 
and as the taxi drew up a dozen or so servants ran down to 
conduct the guests into the haIl. They were in mixed attire; 
some in uniforms of a kind, tunic frogged with gold braid 
discarded or purloined in the past from the wardrobes of 
visiting diplomats; some in native costume of striped silk. As 
the two ladies stepped from the car a platoon of Guards 
lounging on the Terrace alarmed them with a ragged volley 
of welcome. 
There was a slight delay as the driver of the taxi refused 
to accept the new pound note which Dame Mildred ten- 
dered him in payment, but the captain of the Guard, hurry- 
ing up with a jingle of spurs, curtailed further discussion by 
putting the man under arrest and signified in a few graphic 
gestures his sorrow for the interruption and his intention of 
hanging the troublesome fellow without delay. 
The chief saloon was brilliantly lighted and already well 
170 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
fined with the flower of Azanian native society. One of the 
first acts of the new reign had been an ordinance command- 
ing the use of European evening dress. This evening was 
the first occasion for it to be worn and aU round the room 
stood sombre but important figures completely fitted up by 
Mr Y oukoumian with tail coats, white gloves, starched linen 
and enamelled studs; only in a few cases were shoes and 
socks lacking; the unaccustomed attire lent a certain digni- 
fied rigidity to their deportment. The ladies had for the 
most part allowed their choice to fix upon frocks of rather 
startling colour; aniline greens and violets with elaborations 
of ostrich feather and sequin. Viscountess Boaz wore a back- 
less frock newly arrived from Cairo combined with the full 
weight of her ancestral jewellery; the Duchess of Mhomala 
carried on her woolly head a three-pound tiara of gold and 
garnets; Baroness BatuHe exposed shoulders and back mag- 
nificently tattooed and cicatrized with arabesques. 
Beside all this finery the guests of honour looked definitely 
dowdy as the Lord Chamberlain conducted them round the 
room and performed the introductions in French scarcely 
more comfortable than Dame Mildred's own. 
Two slaves circulated among them carrying trays of 
brandy. The English ladies refused. The Lord Chamberlain 
expressed his concern. Would they have preferred whisky; 
no doubt some could be produced? Or beer? 
'Mon bon homme,' said Dame Mildred severely, 'il vous 
faut comprendre que nous ne buvons rien de tout, jamais'; 
an announcement which considerably raised their prestige 
among the company; they were not much to look at, cer- 
tainly, but at least they knew a thing or two which the 
Azanians did not. A useful sort of woman to take on a 
journey, reflected the Lord Chamberlain, and inquired with 
polite interest whether the horses and camels in their 
country were as conveniently endowed. 
171 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
Further conversation was silenced by the arrival of the 
Emperor, who at this moment entered the hall from the 
far end and took his seat on the raised throne which had 
stood conspicuously on the dais throughout the preliminary 
presentations. Court etiquette was still in a formative stage. 
There was a moment of indecision during which the com- 
pany stood in embarrassed silence waiting for a lead. Seth 
said something to his equerry, who now advanced down the 
room and led forward the guests of honour. They curtseyed 
and stood on one side, while the other guests filed past in 
strict precedence. Most of them bowed low in the Oriental 
manner, raising the hand to forehead and breast. The 
curtsey, however, had been closely observed and found 
several imitators among both sexes. One elderly peer, a 
stickler for old-world manners, prostrated himself fully and 
went through the mimic action of covering his head with 
dust. When aU had saluted him in their various ways, Seth 
led the party in to dinner, fresh confusion over the places 
and some ill-natured elbowing; Dame Mildred and Miss Tin 
sat on either side of the Emperor; soon everyone was eating 
and drinking at a great pace. 


March 15th (continued) 
Dinner at Palace. Food v. nasty. Course after course dif- 
ferent kinds of meat, overseasoned and swimming in grease. 
Tried to manage some of it from politeness. Sarah ate 
nothing. Emperor asked great number of questions, some of 
which I was unable to answer. How many suzis of clothes 
had the King of England? Did he take his bath before or 
after his breakfast? Which was the more civilized? Wha"b was 
the best shop to buy an artesian well? etc. Sarah v. silent. Told 
Emperor about co-education and 'free-discipline'. Showed 
great interest. 


Dame Mildred's neighbour on her other side was the 
172 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
punctilious man who had prostrated himself in the drawing- 
room; he seemed engrossed in his eating. In point of fact 
he was rehearsing in his mind and steeling his nerve to 
enunciate some English conversation in which he had pain- 
fully schooled himse]f during that day; at last it came up 
suddenly. 
"Ow many ox 'aye you?' he demanded, lifting up side- 
ways from his plate a great bearded face, "ow many sons? 
'ow many daughters? 'ow many brothers? 'ow many sisters? 
My father is dead fighting.' 
Dame Mildred turned to him a somewhat startled 
scrutiny. There were crumbs and scraps of food in various 
parts of his beard. 'I beg your pardon?' she said. 
But the old gentleman had shot his bolt; he feh that he 
had said an and more than all that good breeding required, 
and to tell the truth was more than a little taken aback by 
his own fluency. He gave her a nervous smile and resumed 
his dinner without again venturing to address her. 


'Which of the white ladies would you like to have?' 
'The fat one. But both are ugly.' 
'Yes. It must be very sad for the EngJish gentlemen to 
marry English ladies.' 


Presently, when the last vitamin had been guzzled, Viscount 
Boaz rose to propose the health of the guests of honour. His 
speech was greeted by loud applause and was then done into 
English by the Court Interpreter. 
'Your Majesty, Lords and Ladies. It is my privilege and 
delight this evening to welcome with open arms of brotherly 
love to our city Dame Mildred Porch and Miss Tin, two 
ladies renowned throughout the famous country of Europe 
173 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
for their great cruelty to animals. We Azanians are a proud 
and ancient nation but we have much to learn from the 
white people of the West and North. We too, in our smaH 
way, are cruel to our animals' - and here the Minister for 
the Interior digressed at some length to recount with hideous 
detail what he had himself once done with a woodman's 
axe to a wild boar - 'but it is to the great nations of the 
West and North, especially to their worthy representatives 
that are with us tonight, that we look as our natural leaders 
on the road of progress. Ladies and gentlemen, we must be 
Modern, we must be refined in our Cruelty to Animals. 
That is the message of the New Age brought to us by our 
guests this evening. May I, in conclusion, raise my glass and 
ask you to join with me in wishing them old age and 
prolonged fecundity.' 
The toast was drunk and the company sat down. Boaz's 
neighbours congratulated him on his speech. There seemed 
no need for a reply and, indeed, Dame Mildred, rare]y at a 
loss for telling phrases, would on this occasion have been 
hard put to it to acknowledge the welcome in suitable 
terms. Seth appeared not to have heard either version of the 
speech. He sat inattentive, his mind occupied with remote 
speculation. Dame Mildred attempted two or three con- 
versations. 
'A very kind meant speech, but he seems to misunder- 
stand our mission . . . It is so interesting to see your people 
in their own milieu. Do tell me who is who . . . Have they 
entirely abandoned native costume? . . .' 
But she received only abstracted answers. 
FinaHy she said, 'I was so interested to learn about your 
Uncle Achon.' The Emperor nodded. 'I do hope they get 
him out of the monastery. Such a useless life, I always 
think, and so selfish. It makes people introspective to think 
all the time about their own souls, don't you think? So 
174 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
sensible of that Earl of wherever it is to go and look for 
him.' 
But Seth had not heard a word. 


March 16th 
Could not sleep late after party. Attempted to telephone 
legation. No reply. Attempted to see Mr Seal. Said he was 
too busy. No sign of Sarah's trunk. She keeps borrowing my 
things. Tried to pin down Emperor last night, no result. Went 
for walk in town. V. crowded, no one working. Apparently 
some trouble about currency. Saw man strike camel, would 
have reported him but no policeman about. Begin to feel I am 
wasting my time here. 


The Monastery of St Mark the Evangelist, though in- 
fected of late with the taint of heresy, was the centre of 
Azanian spiritual life. Here in remote times Nestorian 
missionaries from Mesopotamia had set up a church, and 
here, when the great Amurath proclaimed Christianity the 
official creed of the Empire, the old foundations had been 
unearthed and a native community installed. A weII-sub- 
stantiated tradition affirmed that the little river watering the 
estate was, in fact, the brook Kedron conveyed there sub- 
terraneously; its waters were in continuaJ requisition for the 
relief of skin diseases and stubborn boils. Here too were 
preserved, among other reHcs of less certain authenticity, 
David's stone prised out of the forehead of Go]iath (a boulder 
of astonishing dimensions), a leaf from the Barren Fig Tree, 
the rib from which Eve had been created and a wooden 
cross which had faJlen from heaven quite unexpectedly dur- 
ing Good Friday luncheon some years back. Architecturally, 
however, there was nothing very remarkable: no cloister or 
ambulatory, library, gaJlery, chapter house or groined re- 
fectory. A cluster of mud huts around a larger hut; a single 
175 


10. 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
stone building, the Church dedicated to St Mark by 
Amurath the Great. It could be descried from miles around, 
perched on a site of supreme beauty, a shelf of the great 
escarpment that over looked the Wanda lowlands, and 
through it the brook Kedron, narrowed at this season to 
a single thread of silver, broke into innumerable iridescent 
cascades as it fell to join the sluggish lz01 five thousand feet 
below. Great rocks of voJcanic origin littered the fields. The 
hiUside was fuJl of unexplored caverns whence hyenas salJied 
out at night to exhume the corpses which it was a pious 
practice to transport from allover the empire to await the 
last trump on that holy ground. 
The Earl of Ngumo had made good time. The road lay 
through the Sakuyu cattle country, high plains covered 
with brown slippery grass. At first the way led along the 
caravan route to the royal cities of the north; a clearly de- 
fined track well frequented. They exchanged greetings with 
mule trains coming into market and unusual bands of 
travellers, loping along on foot, drawn to the capital by the 
name of the great Gala and the magnetic excitement which 
all the last weeks had travelled on the ether, radiating in 
thrilling waves to bazaar, farm and jungle, gossiped about 
over camp fires, tapped out on hollow tree trunks in the 
swamplands, sniffed, as it were, on the breeze, sensed by 
subhuman faculties that something was afoot. 
Later they diverged into open country; only the heaps of 
stones bridging the water-courses and an occasional wooden 
culvert told them they were still on the right road. On the 
first night they camped among shepherds. The simple men 
recognized a great nobleman and brought him their children 
to touch. 
'We hear of changes in the great city.' 
'There are changes.' 
On the second night they reached a little town. The head- 
176 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
man had been forewarned of their approach. He came out 
to meet them, prostrating himself and covering his head 
with dust. 
'Peace be upon your house.' 
'You come from the great city of changes. What is your 
purpose among my people?' 
'I wish well to your people. It is not suitable for the low 
to babble of what the high ones do.' 
They slept in and around the headman's hut; in the 
morning he brought them honey and eggs, a trussed chicken, 
dark beer in a jug and a basket of flat bread: they gave him 
salt in bars, and continued their journey. 
The third night they slept in the open; there was a picket 
of royal Guards somewhere in that country. Late on the 
fourth day they reached the Monastery of 8t Mark the 
Evangelist. 
A monk watching on the hilhop sighted them and fired 
a single musket shot into the still air; a troop of baboons 
scattered frightened into the rocks. In the church below 
the great bell was rung to summon the community. The 
Abbot under his yellow sunshade stood in the enclosure to 
greet them; he wore steel-rimmed spectacles. A little deacon 
beside him plied a horsehair fly whisk. 
Obeisance and benediction. The Earl presented the Patri- 
arch's letter of commendation, which was slipped un-opened 
into the folds of the Abbot's bosom, for it is not etiquette to 
show any immediate curiosity about such documents. Official 
reception in the twiIit hut; the Earl seated on a chair hastily 
covered with carpet. The chief men of the monastery stood 
round the waIl with folded hands. The Abbot opened the 
letter of introduction, spat and read it aloud amid grunts of 
approval; it was all preamble and titles of honour; no word of 
business. A visit to the shrine of the Barren Fig Tree; the Earl 
kissed the lintel of the door three times, laid his forehead 
B.M.-M 177 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
against the steps of the sanctuary and made a present 
of a small bag of silver. Dinner in the Abbot's lodging; it 
was one of the numerous fast days of the Nestorian Church; 
vegetable mashes in woodeD bowls, one of bananas, one of 
beans; earthenware jugs and brown vessels of rough beer. 
Ponderous leave-takings for the night. The Earl's tent mean- 
while had been pitched in the open space within the en- 
closure; his men squatted on guard; they had made a fire; 
two or three monks joined them; soon they began singing, 
whoHy secular words in monotonous cadence. Inside the tent 
a single small lamp with floating wick. The Earl squatted 
among his rugs waiting for the Abbot who, he knew, wouJd 
come that night. Presently through the flap of the tent 
appeared the bulky white turban and straggling beard of 
the prelate. The two great men squatted opposite each other, 
on either side of the little lamp; outside the guards singing 
at the camp fire; beyond the stockade the hyenas and a 
hundred hunting sounds among the rocks. Grave courtesies: 
'Our httle convent resounds with the fame of the great Earl 
. . . his prowess in battle and in bed. . . the thousand enemies 
slain by his hand. . . the lions he has speared. . . his countless 
progeny . . .' 
'All my life 1 have counted the days wasted until I saluted 
the Abbot. . . his learning and sanctity. . . his dauntless 
fidelity to the faith, his chastity . . . the austerities of his 
spiritual practices . . .' 
Slowly by a multitude of delicately graded steps the con- 
versation was led to a more practical level. Was there any 
particular object in the Earl's visit, other than the infinite 
joy afforded to all by his presence? 
What object could be more compeIling than the universal 
ambition to pay respect to the Abbot and the glorious sbrine 
of the Barren Fig Tree? But there was, as it so happened, a 
little matter, a thing scarcely worth a thought, which since 
178 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
he were here, the Earl might mention if it wouJd not be 
tedious to his host. 
Every word of the EarPs was a jewel, valued beyond 
human computation; what was this little matter? 
It was an old story. . . in the days of His Beatitude Gorgias 
of evil memory. . . a prisoner, brought to the convent; now 
an old man. . . One of whom only high ones might speak. . . 
supposing that this man were alive. . . 
'Oh, Earl, you speak of that towards which my lips and 
ears are sealed. There are things which are not suitable.' 
'Abbot, once there comes a time for everything when 
it must be spoken of.' 
'What should a simple monk know of these high affairs? 
But 1 haye indeed heard it said that in the times of His 
Beatitude Gorgias of evil memory, there was such a 
prisoner. ' 
'Does he still live?' 
'The monks of St Mark the Evangelist guard their 
treasures well.' 
After this all-important admission they sat for some time 
in silence; then the Abbot rose and with ample formalities 
left his guest to sleep. Both parties felt that the discussion 
had progressed almost too quickly. There were decencies to 
be observed. 
Negotiations were resumed after Mass next morning and 
occupied most of the day; before they parted for the night 
Earl and Abbot had reduced their differences to a monetary 
basis. Next morning the price was decided and Achon, son 
of Amurath, legitimate Emperor of Azania, Chief of the 
Chiefs of Sakuyu, Lord of Wanda and Tyrant of the Seas, 
was set at liberty. 
The event took place without ceremony. After a heavy 
breakfast of boiled goat's-meat, cheese, olives, smoked mut- 
ton, goose and mead - it was one of the numerous feast days 
179 


... 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
of the Nestorian Church - the Earl and the Abbot set out 
for the hiHside unaccompa.nied except by a handfU] of 
slaves. A short climb from the compound brought them to 
the mouth of a small cave. 
'We will wait here. The air is not good.' 
Instead they sent in a boy with lantern and hammer. 
From the depths they heard a few muffled words and then 
a series of blows as a staple was splintered from the rock. 
Within five minutes the slave had returned leading Achon 
by a chain attached to his ankle. The prince was completely 
naked, bowed and shriveHed, stained white hair hung down 
his shoulders, a stained white beard over his chest; he was 
blind, toothless and able to walk only with the utmost un- 
certainty. 
The Earl had considered a few words of homage and con- 
gratulation. Instead he turned to the Abbot. 'He won't be 
able to ride.' 
'That was hardly to be expected.' 
Another night's delay while a litter was constructed; then 
on the fifth morning the caravan set out again for Debra 
Dowa. Achon swung between the shoulders of four slaves, 
heavily curtained from curious eyes. Part of the time he 
slept; at others he crooned quietly to himself, now and then 
breaking into little moans of alarm at the sudden jolts and 
lurches in his passage. On the eighth day, under cover of 
darkness, the little procession slipped by side roads and un- 
frequented lanes into the city, and, having delivered his 
charge to the Patriarch, the Earl hurried out to the French 
Legation to report to M. BaIlon the successful performance 
of his mission. 


Meanwhile Dame Mildred was not enjoying herself at all. 
Everyone seemed to conspire to be unhelpful and disoblig- 
180 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
ing. First there was the intolerable impudence of that 
wretched boy at the Legation She had attempted to ring 
them up every morning and afternoon; at last when she had 
almost despaired of effecting connection Mme Y oukoumian 
had announced that she was through. But it had been a most 
unsatisfactory conversation. Mter some minutes with an 
obtuse native butler ('probably drinks' Dame Mildred had 
decided) the voice had changed to a pleasant, slightly languid 
Eng]ish tone. 
'1 am Dame Mildred Porch. 1 wish to speak to the 
Minister. ' 
'Oh, I don't suppose you can do that, you know. Can I 
do anything for you?' 
'Who are you?' 
'I'm William.' 
'Well, I wish to speak to you in particular. . . it's about 
Miss Tin's trunk.' 
'Drunk?' 
'Miss Sarah Tin, the organizing secretary of the overseas 
department of the League of Dumb Chums. She has lost 
her trunk.' 
'Ah.' 
There was a long pause. Dame Mildred could hear a 
gramophone being played at the other end of the line. 
'Hullo . . . Hullo . . . Are you there?' 
Then William's gentle drawl said: 'You know the trouble 
about the local telephone is that one's always getting cut 
off.' 
There had been a dick and the dance music suddenly 
ceased. 'Hullo . . . Hullo.' She rattled the machine but there 
was no answer. 'I'm convinced he did it on purpose,' she 
told Miss Tin. 'If we cou]d only prove it.' 
Then there was trouble about her money. The twenty 
or so pounds which she had changed into Bank of Azania 
181 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
currently on her first afternoon seemed to be quite worth- 
less. Even Mr Youkoumian, from whom she had first re- 
ceived them, was unable to help, remarking that it was a 
question of politics; he could not accept the notes himself 
in settlement of the weekly hotel bill or in payment for the 
numerous articles of clothing which Miss Tin was obliged 
to purchase from day to day at his store. 
Then there was the Emperor's prolonged neglect of the 
cause of animals. The banquet, so far from being the pre- 
lude to more practical association, seemed to be regarded 
as the end of her visit. Her daily attempts to obtain an 
audience were met with consistent refusal. At times she fell 
into a fever of frustration; there, all over the country, were 
dumb chums being mercilessly snared and speared, and here 
was she, impotent to help them; throughout those restless 
Azanian nights Dame Mildred was continually haunted by 
the appealing reproachful eyes, limpid as spaniel puppies', 
of murdered lions and the pathetic patient whinnying of 
trapped baboons. Consciousness of guilt subdued her usually 
confident manner. Who was she to complain - betrayer that 
she was of mandril, hyena and wild pig, wart hog and porcu- 
pine - if Mr Y oukoumian overcharged her bill or mislaid her 
laundry? 
'Mildred, 1 don't think you're looking at all well. I don't 
believe this place agrees with you.' 
'No, Sarah, I'm not sure that it does. Oh, do let's go 
away. I don't like the people or the way they look or any- 
thing and we aren't doing any good.' 


'Basil, Mum wants me to go home - back to England, I 
mean. ' 
'I shan't like that.' 
'Do you mean it? Oh, lovely Basil, I don't want to go a bit.' 
182 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'We may all have to go soon. Things seem breaking up 
here. . . only I'm not so sure about going to England. . . 
Can't we go somewhere else?' 
'Darling, what's the good of talking. . . we'l] see each 
other again, whatever happens. You do promise that, don't 
you?' 
'You're a grand girl, Prudence, and I'd like to eat you.' 
'So you shall, my sweet . . . anything you want.' 


Strips of sunlight through the shutters; below in the yard 
a native boy hammering at the engine of a broken motor- 
car. 


'I am sending Mme Ballon and the other ladies of the Lega- 
tion down to the coast. 1 do not anticipate serious trouble. 
The whole thing will pass off without a shot being fired. Still, 
it is safer so. Monsieur Floreau wil] accompany them. He 
will have the delicate work of destroying the Lumo bridge. 
That is necessary because Seth has three regiments at 
Matodi who might prove loyal. The train leaves on the day 
before the Gala. I suggest that we advise Mr and Mrs Schon- 
baum a few hours before it starts. It would compromise the 
coup d'etat if there were an international incident. The 
British must fend for themselves.' 
'What is the feeling in the army, General?' 
'1 called a meeting of the Staff today and told them of 
Prince Achon's arrival in Debra Dowa. They know what 
is expected of them. Yesterday their salaries were paid in 
the new notes.' 
'And the Prince, your Beatitude?
 
'He is no worse.' 
'But content?' 


183 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Who can say? He has been sleeping most of the day. He 
does not speak. He is all the time searching for something 
on the floor, near his foot. 1 think he misses his chain. He 
eats well.' 


'Mr Seal, 1 think I go down to Matodi day after to-morrow. 
Got things to fix there, see? How about you come too?' 
'No good this week, Y oukoumian. I shall have to wait 
and see poor Seth's gala.' 
'Mr Seal, you take my tip and come to Matodi. 1 hear 
things. You don't want to get into no bust-up.' 
'I've been hearing things too. I want to stay and see the 
racket.' 
'Damn foolishness.' 


It was not often that the Oriental Secretary called on the 
Minister. He came that evening after dinner. They were 
playing animal snap. 
'Come in, Walsh. Nice to see you. You can settle a dispute 
for us. Prudence insists that a giraffe neighs like a horse. 
Now, does it?' 
Later he got the Minister alone. 
'Look here, sir. I don't know how closely you've followed 
local affairs, but I thought I ought to come and tell you. 
There's likely to be trouble on Tuesday on the day of this 
Birth Control Gala.' 
'Trouble? I should think so. I think the whole thing per- 
fectly disgusting. None of us are going.' 
'Well, I don't exactly know what sort of trouble. But 
there's something up. I've just heard this evening that the 
French and Americans are going down to the coast en bloc 
by the Monday train. I thought you ought to know.' 
184 



\ 
\ 


BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Pooh, another of these native disturbances. I remember 
that last civil war was just the same. Ballon thought he was 
going to be attacked the whole time. 1'd sooner risk being 
bombed up here than bitten by mosquitoes at the coast. Still, 
jolly nice of you to tell me.' 
'You wouldn't mind, sir, if my wife and myself went 
down on the train.' 
'Not a bit, not a bit. Jolly glad. You can take charge of 
the bags. Can't say I envy you, but I hope you have a jolly 
trip. ' 


On the morning preceding the gala, Basil went as usual to his 
office. He found Mr Y oukoumian busily packing a canvas 
grip with the few portable objects of value that had been 
collected for the museum. '1 better take care of these in case 
anything 'appens,' he explained. 'Catching train eleven 
o'clock. Very much crowded train. I think many wise men 
will be aboard. You better come too, Mr Seal. 1 fix it O.K.' 
'What is going to happen?' 
'I don't know nothing, Mr Seal. I don't ask no questions. 
All I think that if there is a bust-up 1 will better be at the 
coast. They were preaching in all the Churches Sunday 
against the Emperor's Birth Control. Madame Youkoumian 
told me which is a very pious and churchgoing woman. But 
I think there is more than that going to happen. I think 
General Connolly knows something. You better come to the 
coast, Mr Seal. No?' 
There was nothing to do that morning; no letters to 
answer; no chits from the Palace; the work of the Ministry 
seemed suddenly over. Basil locked his office door, pocketed 
the key and strode across the yard to see Seth. Two officers 
at the gate-house hushed their conversation as Basil passed 
them. 


185 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
He found Seth, in an elegant grey suit and pale-coloured 
shoes, moodily poring over the map of the new city. 
'They have stopped work on the Boulevard Seth. Jagger 
has dismissed his men. Why is this?' 
'He hadn't been paid for three weeks. He didn't like the 
new bank-notes.' 
'Traitor. I will have him shot. I sent for Connolly an hour 
ago. Where is he?' 
'A great number of Europeans left for the coast by this 
morning's train - but I don't think Connolly was with 
them.' 
'Europeans leaving? What do I care? The city is full of 
my people. I have watched them from the tower with my 
field-glasses. All day they come streaming in by the four 
roads. . . But the work must go on. The Anglican Cathedral 
for example; it should be down by now. I'll have it down 
if I have to work with my own hands. You see, it is right in 
the way of the great northern thoroughfare. Look at it on 
the plan - so straight. . .' 
'Seth, there's a lot of talk going about. They say there 
may be trouble tomorrow.' 
'God, have 1 not had trouble today and yesterday? Why 
should I worry about tomorrow?' 


That evening Dame Mildred and Miss Tin saw a very 
curious sight. They had been to tea with the Bishop and, 
leaving him, made a slight detour, in order to take advan- 
tage of the singular sweetness of the evening air. As they 
passed the Anglican Cathedral they noticed a young man 
working alone. He wore light grey and parti-coloured shoes 
and he was engaged in battering at the granite archway at 
the West End with an energy very rare among Azanian 
navvies. 
'How like the Emperor.' 
186 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Don't be absurd, Sarah.' 
They left the grey figure chipping diligently in the twi- 
light, and returned to their hotel where the Youkoumians' 
departure had utterly disorganized the service. 
'Just when we had begun to make them understand how 
we liked things . . .' complained Dame Mildred. 


Next morning the ladies were up early. They had been 
awakened before dawn by the traffic under their windows, 
mules and ponies, chatter and scuffling, cars hooting for 
passage. Dame Mildred opened the shutters and looked 
down into the crowded street. Miss Tin joined her. 
'I've been ringing for twenty minutes. There doesn't 
seem to be a soul in the hotel.' 
Nor was there; the servants had gone out last night after 
dinner and had not returned. Fortunately Dame Mildred 
had the spirit stove, without which she never ventured 
abroad, some biscuits and cubes of bouillon. They break- 
fasted in this way upstairs while the crowd outside grew 
every moment in volume and variety, as the sun, brilliant 
and piercing as on other less notable mornings, mounted 
over the city. Dust rose from the crowded street and hung 
sparkling in the air. 
'So nice for the Emperor to have a good day for his 
Pageant. Not at all like any of the pageants 1 can remember 
in England. Do you remember the girl guides' rally when 
there was that terrible hail storm - in August too? How the 
Brownies cried.' 
The route of the procession lay past the Hotel de 
1 'Empereur Seth. Shop fronts had been boarded up and 
several of the householders had erected stands and tem- 
porary balconies outside their windows. Some weeks earlier, 
when the Pageant had first been announced, Mr Youkou- 
mian had advertised accommodation of this kind and so]d a 
187 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
number of tickets to prospective sightseers. In the subse- 
quent uncertainty he had abandoned this among other of 
his projects. Now, however, two or three Indians, a Greek 
and four or five Azanians in gala clothes presented them- 
selves at the hotel to claim their seats in the stand. They 
explored the deserted vestibule and dining-room, climbed 
the stairs and finally reached the bedrooms of the English 
ladies. Hardened by long exposure to rebuffs and injustice, 
the Indians paid no attention to Dame Mildred's protests. 
Instead, they pulled up the bed across the window, seated 
themselves in positions of excellent advantage and then, pro- 
ducing small bags of betel nuts from their pockets, settled 
down to wait, patiently chewing and spitting. Encouraged by 
this example the other intruders took possession of the other 
windows. The Greek politely offered Miss Tin a place in their 
midst and accepted her refusal with somewhat puzzled con- 
cern. The two ladies of the Azanian party wandered round 
the room, picking up and examining the articles on the 
washstand and dressing-table, and chattering with simple 
pleasure over the contents of the chest-of-drawers. 
'This is an intolerable outrage. But I don't see what we 
can do about it at the moment. Sir Samson will have to 
lodge a complaint.' 
'We can't possibly remain here. We can't possibly go 
out into the street. There is only one place for us - the 
roof. ' 
This position was easily accessible by means of a ladder 
and trap-door. Hastily equipping themselves with rugs, 
pillows, sunshades, .two light novels, cameras and the re- 
mains of the biscuits, the resolute ladies climbed up into the 
blazing sunlight. Dame Mildred handed up their provisions 
to Miss Tin, then followed her. The trap-door could not be 
bolted from above, but fortunately the tin roof was weighted 
in many places by rock boulders, placed there to strengthen 
188 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
it in times of high wind. One of these they rolled into place, 
then, sliding down the hot corrugations to the low cement 
parapet, they made their nest in a mood of temporary 
tranquillity. 
'We shall see very well from here, Sarah. There will be 
plenty of time to have those natives punished tomorrow.' 
Indeed, from where they sat the whole city lay very 
conveniently exposed to their view. They could see the 
irregular roofs of the palace buildings in their grove of 
sapling blue gums and before them the still unfinished royal 
box from which the Emperor proposed to review the pro- 
cession; small black figures could be observed working on 
it, tacking up coloured flags, spreading carpets and bobbing 
up the path with pots of palm and fern. They could see 
the main street of the city diverge, to the barracks on one 
side and the Christian quarter on the other. They could see 
the several domes and spires of the Catholic, Orthodox, 
Armenian, Anglican, N estorian, American Baptist and Mor- 
mon places of worship; the minaret of the mosque, the 
Synagogue and the flat white roof of the Hindu snake 
temple. Miss Tin took a series of snapshots. 
'Don't use all the films, there are bound to be some 
interesting things later.' 
The sun rose high in the heavens; the corrugated iron 
radiated a fierce heat. Propped on their pillows under green 
parasols the two ladies became drowsy and inattentive to 
the passage of time. 
The procession was due to start at eleven, but it must 
have been past noon before Dame Mildred, coming to with 
a jerk and snort, said, 'Sarah, I think something is beginning 
to happen.' 
A little dizzily, for the heat was now scarcely bearable, 
the ladies leant over the parapet. The crowd was halloing 
loudly and the women gave out their pecuIi<U' throbbing 
189 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
whistle; there seemed to be a general stir towards the royal 
box, a quarter of a mile down the road. 
'That must be the Emperor arriving.' 
A dozen lancers were cantering down the street, forcing 
the crowds back into the side alleys and courtyards, only 
to surge out again behind them. 
'The procession will come up from the direction of the 
railway station. Look, here they are.' 
Fresh swelling and tumult in the crowded street. But it 
was only the lancers returning towards the Palace. 
Presently Miss Tin said, 'You know, this may take an 
day. How hungry we shall be.' 
'I've been thinking of that for some time. 1 am going 
to go down and forage.' 
'Mildred, you can't. Anything might happen to you.' 
'Nonsense, we can't live on this roof all day with four 
petit-beurre biscuits.' 
She rolled back the stone and carefully, rung by rung, 
descended the ladder. The bedroom doors were open, and 
as she passed she saw that quite a large party was now 
assembled at the windows. She reached the ground floor, 
crossed the dining-room and opened the door at the far 
end where, she had been informed by many penetrating 
smells during the past weeks, lay the kitchen quarters. 
Countless flies rose with humming alarm as she opened the 
larder door. Uncovered plates of horrible substances lay on 
the shelves; she drew back instinctively; then faced them 
again. There were some black olives in an earthenware 
basin and half a yard of brick-dry bread. Armed with 
these and breathing heavily she again climbed to the trap- 
door. 
'Sarah, open it at once.' The rock was withdrawn. 'How 
could you be so selfish as to shut it? Supposing I had been 
pursued. ' 


190 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'I'm sorry, Mildred. Indeed I am, but you were so long 
and I grew nervous. And, my dear, you have been missing 
such a lot. All kinds of things have been happening.' 
'What things?' 
'Well, 1 don't know exactly, but look.' 
Indeed, below, the crowds seemed to be in a state of 
extreme agitation, jostling and swaying without apparent 
direction around a wedge-shaped phalanx of polioe who 
were forcing a way with long bamboo staves; in their centre 
was an elderly man under arrest. 
'Surely, those are clothes of the native priests? What 
can the old man have been up to?' 
'Almost anything. I have never had any belief in the 
clergy after that curate we liked so much who was Chaplain 
of the Dumb Chums and spoke so feelingly and then. . .' 
'Look, here is the procession.' 
Rising strains of the Azanian anthem; the brass band of 
the Imperial Guards swung into sight, drowning the sounds 
of conflict. The Azanians loved a band and their Patriarch's 
arrest was immediately forgotten. Behind the soldiers drove 
Viscount and Viscountess Boaz, who had eventually con- 
sented to act as patrons. Then, marching four abreast in 
brand-new pinafores, came the girls of the Amurath 
Memorial High School, an institution founded by the old 
Empress to care for the orphans of murdered officials. They 
bore, somewhat unsteadily, a banner whose construction had 
occupied the embroidery and dressmaking class for several 
weeks. It was emblazoned in letters of appJiqued silk with 
the motto: WOMEN OF TOMORROW DEMAND AN EMPTY 
CRADLE. Slowly the mites filed by, singing sturdily. 
'Very sensible and pretty,' said Miss Tin. 'Dear Mildred, 
what very stale bread you have brought.' 
'The olives are excellent.' 
'1 never liked olives. Good gracious, look at this.' 
191 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
The first of the triumphal cars had come into sight. At 
first an attempt had been made to induce ladies of rank to 
take part in the tableaux; a few had wavered, but Azanian 
society still retained certain standards; the peerage were 
not going to have their wives and daughters exhibiting 
themselves in aid of charity; the idea had to be dropped 
and the actresses recruited less ambitiously from the demi- 
monde. This first car, drawn by oxen, represented the place 
of women in the modern world. Enthroned under a canopy 
of coloured cotton sat MIle 'Fifi' Fatim Bey; in one hand a 
hunting-crop to symbolize sport, in the other a newspaper to 
symbolize learning; round her were grouped a court of 
Azanian beauties with typewriters, tennis rackets, motor- 
bicycling goggles, telephones, hitch-hiking outfits and other 
patents of modernity inspired by the European illustrated 
papers. An orange-and-green appliqued standard bore the 
challenging motto: THROUGH STERILITY TO CULTURE. 
Enthusiastic applause greeted this pretty invention. An- 
other ca,r came into sight down the road, bobbing decora- 
tively above the black pates; other banners. 
Suddenly there was a check in the progress and a new 
note in the voice of the crowd. 
'Has there been an accident? I do hope none of the poor 
oxen are hurt.' 
The trouble seemed to be coming from the front of the 
procession, where bodies of men had pushed through from 
the side streets and were endeavouring to head the proces- 
sion back. The brass band stopped, faltered and broke off, 
scattering before the assault and feebly defending their 
heads with trombones and kettle drums. 
'Quick, Sarah, your camera. I don't know what in the 
world is happening, but 1 must get a snap of it. Of course 
the sun would be in the wrong place.' 
'Try with the very small stop.' 
192 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'I do pray they come out; 1 had such bad luck with those 
very interesting films of Cape Town that the wretched man 
ruined on the boat. You know it looks like quite a serious 
riot. Where are the police?' 
The attackers, having swept the band out of the road 
and underfoot, were making easy work of the High School 
Orphans; they were serious young men a,rmed with clubs, 
the athletic group, as the ladies learned later, of Nestorian 
Catholic Action, muscular Christians who for many weeks 
now had been impatiently biding their time to have a whack 
at the modernists and Jews who were behind the new 
movement. 
Down went the embroidered banner as the girls in their 
pinafores ran for safety between the legs of the onlookers. 
The main focus of the assault was now the triumphal car 
immediately in front of the Hotel de l'Empereur Seth. At 
the first sign of disturbance the members of the ta,bleau had 
abandoned their poses and huddled together in alarm; now 
without hesitation they forsook their properties and bundled 
out of the wagon into the street. The Christian party 
swarmed on to it and one of them began addressing the 
crowd. Dame Mildred snapped him happily as he turned in 
their direction, arms spread, mouth wide open, in all the 
fervour of democratic leadership. 
Hitherto, except for a few jabs with trumpets and drum- 
sticks, the attackers had met with no opposition. Now, how- 
ever, the crowd began to take sides, individual scuffles broke 
out among them and a party of tribesmen from up-country, 
happily welcoming this new diversion in a crowded day, 
began a concerted charge to the triumphal car, round which 
there was soon raging a contest of I'm-king-of-the-castle 
game. The Nestorian orator was thrown overboard and a fine 
savage in lion skins began doing a jig in his place. The 
patient oxen stood unmoved by the tumult. 
B.M.-N 193 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Quick, Sarah, another ron of films. What can the police 
be thinking of?' 
Then authority asserted itself. 
From the direction of the royal box flashed out a ragged 
volley of rifle shots. A bullet struck the parapet with a burst 
of splintered concrete and ricocheted, droning, over the 
ladies' heads. Another volley and something slapped on to 
the iron roof a few yards from where they sat. Half compre- 
hending, Dame Mildred picked up and examined the irregu- 
lar disc of hot lead. Shrill wails of terror rose from the street 
below and then a clattering of horses and oxen. Without a 
word spoken Dame Mildred and Miss Tin rolled to cover. 
The parapet was a low one and the ladies were obliged 
to lie full length in positions of extreme discomfort. Dame 
Mildred slid out her arm for a cushion and hastily with- 
drew it as a third burst of firing broke out as though on 
purpose to frustrate her action. Presently silence fell, more 
frightening than the tumult. Dame Mildred spoke in an 
awed whisper. 
'Sarah, that was a bullet.' 
'I know. Do be quiet or they'll start again.' 
For twenty minutes by Miss Tin's wrist-watch the two 
ladies lay in the gutter, their faces almost touching the hot, 
tarnished iron of the roof. Dame Mildred shifted on to her 
side. 
'Oh, what is it, Mildred?' 
'Pins and needles in my left leg. I don't care if I am shot.' 
Dim recollections of some scouting game played peace- 
ably in somewhat different circumstances among Girl Guides 
in the bracken of Epping prompted Dame Mildred to re- 
move her topee and, holding it at arm's length, expose it 
over the edge of their rampart. The silence of the stricken 
field was unbroken. Slowly, with infinite caution, she raised 
her head. 


194 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'For heaven's sake, take care, Mildred. Snipers.' 
But everything was quiet. At length she sat up and looked 
over. From end to end the street was silent and utterly 
deserted. The strings of flags hung limp in the afternoon 
heat. The banner of the Amurath High School lay spread 
across the way, dishevelled and dusty from a thousand 
footsteps but still flaunting its message bravely to the 
heavens, WOMEN OF TOMORROW DEMAND AN EMPTY 
CRADLE. The other banner lay crumpled in the gutter. 
Only one word was visible in the empty street. STERILITY 
pleaded in orange-and-green silk to an unseeing people. 
'I think it is all over.' 
The ladies sat up and stretched their cramped legs, dusted 
themselves a little, straightened their hats and breathed 
deeply of the fresh air. Dame Mildred retrieved her camera 
and wound on the film. Miss Tin shook out the pillows and 
looked for food. The olives were dry and dull-skinned, the 
bread crisp as biscuit and gritted with dust. 
'Now what are we going to do? I'm thirsty and I think 
one of my headaches is coming on.' 
Regular steps of marching troops in the street below. 
'Look out. They're coming again.' 
The two ladies s]id back under cover. They heard the 
grounding of rifle butts, some unintelligible orders, march- 
ing steps proceeding down the street. Inch by inch they 
emerged again. 
'Some of them are still there. But I think it's all right.' 
A picket of Guards squatted round a machine-gun on 
the pavement opposite. 
'I'm going down to find something to drink.' 
They rol]ed back the stone from the trap-door and de- 
scended into the silent hotel. The sightseers had left their 
bedrooms. There was no one about on either floor. 
'I wonder where they keep the Evian.' 
195 



BLACK MISCHIEF 


They went into the bar. Alcohol everywhere, but no 
water. In a corner of the kitchen they found a dozen or so 
bottles bearing the labels of various mineral waters - Evian, 
St Galmiet, Vichy, Malvern - all empty. It was Mr You- 
koumian's practice to replenish them, when required, from 
the foetid well at the back of the house. 
'I must get something to drink or I shall die. I'm going 
out.' 
'Mildred. ' 
'I don't care, I am.' 
She strode through the twilit vestibule into the street. 
The officer in charge of the machine-gun section waved her 
back. She walked on, making pacific gestures. He spoke to 
her rapidly and loudly, first in Sakuyu, then in Arabic. 
Dame Mildred replied in English and French. 
'Taisez-vous, officer. Je desire de l'eau. Ou peut-on trouver 
fa, s'il vous plait.' 
The soldier showed her the hotel, then the machine-gun. 
'British subject. Me. British subject. No savvy? Oh, don't 
any of you speak a word of English?' 
The soldiers grinned and nodded, pointing her back to 
the hotel. 
'It's no good. They won't let us out. We must wait.' 
'Mildred, I'm going to drink wine.' 
'Well, let's take it up to the roof - it seems the only safe 
place. ' 
Armed with a bottle of Mr Youkoumian's Koniak they 
strode back up the ladder. 
'Oh dear, it's very strong.' 
'I think it may help my headache.' 
The afternoon wore on. The burning sun dipped towards 
the edge of the mountains. The ladies sipped raw brandy 
on the iron roof. 
At length there was a fresh movement in the street. An 
196 



BLACK MISCHIEF 


officer on mule-back galloped up, shouting an order to the 
picket. They dismantled their machine-gun, hoisted it on 
to their shoulders, feU in, and marched away towards the 
Palace. Other patrols tramped past the hotel. From their 
eminence they could see bodies of troops converging from 
all sides on the Palace square. 
'They're calling in the guard. It must be all right now. 
But I feel too sleepy to move.' 
Presently, as the soldiers withdrew, little bodies of 
civilians emerged from hiding. A marauding band of 
Christians swung confidently into view. 
'I believe they're coming here.' 
Splintering of glass and drunken, boastful laughter came 
from the bar below. Another party broke in the shutters 
of the drapers opposite and decked themselves with lengths 
of bright stuff. But oblivious of the excursions below them, 
worn out by the heat and anxiety of the day, and slightly 
drugged by Mr Y oukoumian's spirit, the two ladies slept. 
It was after seven when they awoke. The sun had set and 
there was a sharp chill in the air. Miss Tin shivered and 
sneezed. 
'My head's splitting. I'm very hungry again,' she said, 
'and thirstier than ever.' 
The windows were all dark. Blackness encircled them 
save for a line of light which streamed across the street 
from the door of the bar and a duII red glow along the roof- 
tops of the South quarter, in which the Indian and Armenian 
merchants had their warehouses. 
'That can't be sunset at this time. Sarah, I believe the 
town is on fire.' 
'What are we to do? We can't stay here all night.' 
A sound of tipsy singing rose from below and a small 
knot of Azanians came into sight, swaying together with 
arms across each other's shoulders; two or three of them 
197 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
carried torches and lanterns. A party sallied out from the bar 
below; there was a confused scuffling. One of the lamps was 
dropped in a burst of yellow flame. The tussle broke up, 
leaving a little pool of burning oil in the centre of the road. 
'We can't possibly go down.' 
Two hours dragged by; the red glow behind the rooftops 
died, revived and died again; once there was a short out- 
break of firing some distance away. The beleaguered ladies 
sat and shuddered in the darkness. Then the lights of a car 
appeared and stopped outside the hotel. A few topers emerged 
from the bar and clustered round it. There were some 
words spoken in Sakuyu and then a clear English drawl rose 
to them. 
'Well, the old girls don't seem to be here. These chaps 
say they haven't seen anyone.' 
And another answered: '1 dare say they've been raped.' 
'I hope so. Let's try the Mission.' 
'Stop,' shrieked Dame Mildred. 'Hi! Stop.' 
The motor-car door clicked to; the engine started up. 
'Stop,' cried Miss Tin. 'We're up here.' 
Then, in a moment of inspiration, untaught in the Girl 
Guides, Dame Mildred threw down the half-empty bottle of 
brandy. William's head popped out of the car window and 
shouted a few words of easily acquired abuse in Sakuyu; 
then a pillow followed the bottle on to the roadway. 
'I believe there's someone up there. Be an angel and go 
and see, Percy. I'll stick in here if there's going to be any 
bottle-throwing. ' 
The second secretary advanced with caution and had 
reached only the foot of the stairs when the two ladies 
greeted him. 
'Thank God you've come,' said Miss Tin. 
'Well,' he said, a little confused by this sudden cordiality; 
'jolly nice of you to put it like that. All I mean is, we just 
198 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
dropped in to see that you were all right. Minister said we'd 
better. Not scared or anything, I mean.' 
'All right? We've had the most terrible day of our 
Ii ves.' 
'Oh I say, not as bad as that, I hope. We heard at the 
Legation that there'd been some kind of a disturbance. 
Well, you'll be right as rain now, you know. Everything 
pretty quiet except for a few drunks. If there's anything 
we can do, just let us know.' 
'Young man, do you intend leaving us here all night?' 
'Well . . . I suppose it sounds inhospitable, but there's 
nothing else for it. Full up at the Legation, you know. The 
Bishop arrived unexpectedly and two or three of the com- 
mercial fellows took fright and came over for some reason. 
Jolly awkward. . . You see how it is, don't you?' 
'Do you realize that the town is on fire?' 
'Yes, rare old blaze. We passed quite near it. It looks 
awfully jolly from the Legation.' 
'Young man, Miss Tin and myself are coming with you 
now.' 
'Oh, look here, I say, you know. . .' 
'Sarah, get in the car. I will bring down a few things for 
the night.' 
The discussion had brought them to the street. William 
and Anstruther exchanged glances of despair. Sir Samson's 
instructions had been: ' Just see that those tiresome old 
women are safe, but on no account bring them back here. 
The place is a bear garden already.' (This with a scowl to- 
wards the Bishop who was very quietly playing Peggity with 
Prudence in a corner of the drawing-room.) 
Dame Mildred, putting little trust in Miss Tin's ability 
to restrain the diplomats from starting without her, took 
few pains with the packing. In less than a minute she was 
down again with an armful of night clothes and washing 
199 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
materials. At last, with a squeeze and a grunt, she sank into 
the back seat. 
'Tell me,' asked William with some admiration, as he 
turned the car round. 'Do you always throw bottles at 
people when you want a lift?' 


200 



Chapter Seven 
Sir Samson Courteney arose next morning in a mood of 
high displeasure, which became the more intense as with 
every minute of his leisurely toilet he recalled in detail the 
atrocious disorders of the preceding evening. 
'Never known anything like it,' he reflected on the way to 
the bathroom. 'These wretched people don't seem to realize 
that a Legation is a place of business. How can I be expected 
to get through the day's work, with my whole house over- 
run with uninvited guests?' 
First there had been the Bishop, who arrived during tea 
with two breathless curates and an absurd story about an- 
other revolution and shooting in the streets. Well, why not? 
You couldn't expect the calm of Barchester Towers in a 
place like Azania. Missionary work was known to involve 
some physical work. Nincompoops. Sir Samson lashed the 
bath water in his contempt and vexation. Then, when they 
were half-way through dinner, who should turn up but the 
Bank Manager and a scrubby little chap named Jagger. 
Never heard of him. More wild talk about murder, loot and 
fire. Dinner started all over again, with the result that the 
duck was ruined. And then the most damnable treachery of 
all: his wife of all people, infected with the generaJ panic, 
had begun to ask about Dame Mildred and Miss Tin. Had 
they gone down to the coast when the other English people 
left? Should not something be done about them? The Minis- 
ter poohpoohed the suggestion for some time, but at length 
so far yielded to popular appeal as to allow William and 
Percy to take the car and go out, just to see that the old 
women had come to no harm. That was the explicit limit of 
201 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
their instructions. And what did they do but bring them 
along too? Here, in fact, was the entire English population 
of Debra Dowa taking refuge under his roof. 'They'll have 
to clear out today,' decided the Minister as he lathered his 
chin, 'every man jack of them. It's an intolerable imposi- 
tion. ' 
Accommodation in the compound had eventuaHy been 
found for all the new-comers. The Bishop slept in the Lega- 
tion, the curates with the Anstruthers, who, in the most 
sporting manner, moved the children into their own room 
for the night, Dame Mildred and Miss Tin at the Legges 
and the Bank Manager and Mr Jagger alone in the bungalow 
vacated by the Walshes. By the time Sir Samson came down 
to breakfast, however, they were all together again, chatter- 
ing uproariously on the croquet lawn. 
'. . . my back quite sore. . . not really accustomed to 
riding.' 'Poor Mr Raith.' 'The Church party started it. The 
priests had been haranguing them for days against birth- 
control. The police learned that an attempt would be made 
to break up the procession so they arrested the Patriarch just 
before it was due to start. . .' 'Troops cleared the streets. . . 
fired over their heads . . . no damage done . . .' '. . . a bullet 
within a few inches, literally inches of my head. . .' 'Seth 
went back to the Palace as soon as it was clear the procession 
couldn't take place. My word, he looked angry. . .' 'Young 
Seal with him . . .' '. . . it wasn't so bad when the beast was 
going uphill. It was that terrible sliding feeling. . .' 'Poor 
Mr Raith . . .' 'Then the patrols were all withdrawn and 
concentrated in front of the Palace. Jagger and I were quite 
close and saw the whole thing. They had the whole army 
drawn up in the square and gradually when they realized 
the shooting was over the crowd began to come back, little 
knots of sixes and sevens creeping out from the side alleys 
and then creeping in round the soldiers. This was about half- 
202 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
past five. ..' '.. . and not having proper breeches my 
knees got so rubbed . . .' 'Poor Mr Raith . . .' 'Everyone 
thought Seth was going to appear. The royal box was still 
there, shoddy sort of affair, but it provided a platform. 
Everyone kept looking in that direction. Suddenly who 
should climb up but the Patriarch, who had been released 
from prison by the rioters, and after him Connolly and old 
Ngumo and one or two others of the notables. Wen, the 
crowd cheered like mad for the Patriarch and Ngumo and 
the soldiers cheered for Connolly and started firing off their 
rifles again into the air and for a quarter of an hour the place 
was in an uproar. . .' '. . . and two bruises on the lower 
part of my shin where the stirrups came. . .' 'Poor Mr 
Raith. . .' 'Then came the big surprise of the day. The 
Patriarch made a speech, don't suppose half the people heard 
it. Announced that Seth had abdicated and that Achon, 
Amurath's son who's supposed to have been dead for fifty 
years, was still alive and would be crowned Emperor today. 
The fellows near started cheering and the others took it up - 
they didn't know why - and soon they had a regular party 
going. Meanwhile the Christians had been making hay in 
the Indian and Jewish quarters, breaking up the shops and 
setting half the place on fire. That's when Jagger and I made 
our get-away. . .' '. . . very stiff and chafed. . .' '. . . poor, 
poor Mr Raith'. 
'All talking shop as usual,' said Sir Samson, as these voices 
floated in to him through the dining-room windows. 'And 
eating me out of house and home,' he added sourly as he 
noted that there was a shortage of kedgeree that morning. 
'But what about Basil Sea!?' Prudence asked. 
'He went off with Seth, I believe,' said the Bank Manager, 
'wherever that may be.' 
Lady Courteney appeared among her guests, wearing 
gum-boots and pushing a barrow and spade. Emperors might 
203 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
come and go, but there was heavy digging to be dOllf
 in the 
lily-pond. 
'Good morning,' she said. 'I do hope you aU slept wen 
after your adventures and found enough breakfast. I'm 
afraid this is a very topsy-turvy house party. Prudence, 
child, I want you to help with the mud-puddle this morn- 
ing. Mr Raith, I'm sure you're tired after your ride. Take an 
easy morning like a sensible man. The Bishop win show you 
the best parts of the garden. Take some deck chairs. You'll 
find them in the porch. Dame Mildred and Miss Tin, how 
are you both? I hope my maid found you all you needed. Do 
please aU make yourselves at home. Mr Jagger, perhaps you 
play croquet.' 
The Envoy Extraordinary finished his second cup of 
coffee, fiUed and lit his pipe, and, avoiding the social life of 
the lawn, pottered round by the back way to the Chancery. 
Here at least there survived an atmosphere of normal tran- 
quillity. Anstruther, Legge and William were playing cut- 
throat bridge. 
'Sorry to disturb you feHows. I just wanted to know 
whether any of you knew anything about this revolution.' 
'Not much, I'm afraid. Care to take a hand, sir?' 
'No, thanks very much. I think I'll have a talk with 
the Bishop about his Cathedral. Save writing that Jetter. 
Dare say everything'll be all right now that Seth's left - 
I suppose I shall have to write a report of this business. 
No one will read it. But one of you might pop down into 
town sometimes and see exactly what's happened, win 
you?' 
'That's going to be a bore,' said William, as the Minister 
left them. 'God, what a mean dummy.' 
An hour later he visited them again. 
'I say, I've just got a letter asking me to this coronation. I 
suppose someone from here ought to go? It means putting 
204 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
on uniform and mine's got so infernally tight. William, be 
a good fellow and represent me, win you?' 


The Nestorian Cathedral, like the whole of the city, was of 
quite recent construction, but its darkness and stuffiness en- 
dowed it with an air of some antiquity. It was an octagonal, 
domed building, consisting of a concentric ambulatory round 
an inner sanctuary. The walls were painted in primitive 
simplicity with saints and angels, battle scenes from the Old 
Testament history and portraits of Amurath the Great, 
faintly visible in the murky light of a dozen or so branch 
candlesticks. Three choirs had been singing since dawn. 
There was an office of enormous length to be got through 
before the coronation Mass - psalms, prophecies, lections 
and many minor but prolix rites of purification. Three aged 
lectors recited Leviticus from manuscript rolls while a band 
of deacons played a low rhythm on hand drums and a silver 
gong. The Church party were in the ascendant at the mo- 
ment and were not disposed to forgo a single liturgical lux- 
ury. 
Meanwhile chairs and carpets were being arranged in the 
outer aisle and an awning improvised through which, after 
the Mass, the new Emperor was to be led to take the final 
vows in the presence of the populace. All roads to the Cathe- 
dral were heavily policed and the square was lined with 
Guardsmen. At eleven M. BaIlon arrived and took his place 
in the seats set aside for the diplomatic corps. The Ameri- 
cans had all left the town, so that he was now in the position 
of doyen. The native nobility had already assembled. The 
Duke of Ukaka found a place next to the Earl of Ngumo. 
'Where's Achon now?' 
'Inside with the priests.' 
'How is he?' 


205 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'He passed a good night. I think he finds the robes un- 
comfortable.' 
Presently the Office ended and the Mass began, said be- 
hind closed doors by the Patriarch himseH, with all the 
complex ritual of his church. An occasional silver tinkle from 
inside informed the worshippers of the progress of the cere- 
mony, while a choir of deacons maintained a solemn chant 
somewhere out of sight in the gloom. M. Ballon stirred un- 
easily, moved by tiny, uncontrollable shudders of shocked 
atheism. Presently William arrived, carrying cocked hat, 
white gloves, very elegant in gold braid. He smiled pleas- 
antly at M. Ballon and sat beside him. 
'I say, have they started?' 
M. Ballon nodded but did not reply. 
A long time passed and the diplomat shifted from buttock 
to buttock in his gilt chair. It was no longer a matter of anti- 
clericalism but of acute physical discomfort. 
William twiddled his gloves and dropped his hat and 
gaped miserably at the frescoed ceiling. Once, absent- 
mindedly, he took out his cigarette-case, tapped a cigarette 
on the toe of his shoe and was about to light it when he 
caught a glance from M. BaIlon which caused him hastily to 
return it to his pocket. 
But eventually an end came. The doors of the inner sanc- 
tuary were thrown open; the trumpeters on the Cathedral 
steps sounded a fanfare; the band in the square recognized 
their signal and struck up the Azanian Anthem. The proces- 
sion emerged into the open. First came the choir of deacons, 
the priests, Bishops and the Patriarch. Then a canopy of 
brocade supported on poles at each corner by the four pre- 
mier peers of the Empire. Under it shuffled the new Mon- 
arch in the robes of state. It was not clear from his manner 
that he understood the nature of the proceedings. He wrig- 
gled his shoulders irritably under the unaccustomed burden 
206 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
of silk and jewellery, scratched his ribs and kept feeling dis- 
consolately towards his right foot and shaking it sideways as 
he walked, worried at missing his familiar chain. Some drops 
of the holy oil with which he had been recently anointed 
trickled over the bridge of his nose and, drop by drop, down 
his white beard. Now and then he faltered and halted in his 
pace and was only moved on by a respectful dig in the ribs 
from one of his attendant peers. M. BaHon, William and the 
native nobility fell in behind him, and with slow steps pro- 
ceeded to the dais for the final ceremonies. 
A great shout rose from the concourse as the Imperial 
party mounted the steps and Achon was led to the throne 
prepared for him. Here, one by one, he was invested with 
the royal regalia. First, holding the sword of state, the 
Patriarch addressed him: 
'Achon, I give you this sword of the Empire of Azania. Do 
you swear to fight in the cause of Justice and Faith for the 
protection of your people and the glory of your race?' 
The Emperor grunted and the ornate weapon was laid 
across his lap and one of his listless hands placed upon its hilt 
while cannonades of applause rose from his assembled sub- 
jects. 
Then the gold spur. 
'Achon, 1 give you this spur. Do you swear to ride in the 
cause of Justice and Faith for the protection of your people 
and the glory of your race?' 
The Emperor gave a low whimper and turned away his 
face; the Earl of Ngumo buckled the spur about the foot that 
had so lately borne a graver weight. Huzzas and halloaing in 
the crowded square. 
Finally the crown. 
'Achon, I give you this crown. Do you swear to use it in 
the cause of Justice and Faith for the protection of your 
people and the glory of your race?' 
207 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
The Emperor remained silent and the Patriarch advanced 
towards him with the massive gold tiara of Amurath the 
Great. With great gentleness he placed it over the wrinkled 
brow and straggle of white hairs; but Achon's head lolled 
forwards under its weight and the bauble was pitched back 
into the Patriarch's hands. 
Nobles and prelates clustered about the old man and then 
dismay spread among them and a babble of scared under- 
tones. The people, seeing that something was amiss, broke off 
short in their cheering and huddled forward towards the dais. 
'Tcha!' exclaimed M. BaHon. 'This is something infinitely 
vexatious. It was not to be foreseen.' 
For Achon was dead. 


'Well,' said Sir Samson, when, rather late for luncheon, 
William brought back news of the coronation, 'I can't for 
the life of me see how they think they're any better off. 
They'll have to get Seth back now, I suppose, and we've all 
been disturbed for nothing. It'll look infernally silly when 
we send in a report of this to the F.O. Not sure we hadn't 
better keep quiet about the whole business.' 
'By the way,' said William, '1 heard something else in the 
town. The bridge is down at Lumo, so there'll be no more 
trains to the coast for weeks.' 
'One thing after another.' 
They were all there, cramped at the elbows, round the 
dining-room table. Bishop and curates, Bank Manager and 
Mr Jagger, Dame Mildred and Miss Tin, and they all began 
asking William questions about the state of the town. Was 
the fIre completely put out? Was there looting in the shops? 
Did the life of the place seem to be going on normally? 
Were there troops patrol1ing the streets? Where was Seth? 
Where was Seal? Where was Boaz? 
'1 don't think it at all fair to tease William,' said Pru- 
208 



BLACK MISCHIEF 


dence, 'particularly when he looks so nice in his uniform.' 
'But if, as you say, this bridge is demolished,' demanded 
Dame Mildred, 'how can one get to Matodi?' 
'There isn't any other way, unless you like to ride down 
on a camel with one of the caravans.' 
'D'you mean to say we must stay here until the bridge is 
re built?' 
'Not here,' interposed Sir Samson involuntarily, 'not here.' 
'1 think the whole thing is scandalous,' said Miss Tin. 
At last, before coffee was served, the Minister left the 
table. 
'Got to get back to work,' he said cheerfully, 'and 1 shall 
be at it all the afternoon, so I'd better say good-bye now. I 
expect you'll all be gone before I get through with it.' 
And he left in the dining-room seven silent guests whose 
faces were eloquent of consternation. Later they assembled 
furtively in a corner of the garden to discuss their circum- 
stances. 
'1 must admit,' said the Bishop, 'that it seems to me un- 
reasonable and inconsiderate of the Minister to expect us 
to return to the town until we have more reassuring infor- 
mation about the conditions.' 
'As British subjects we have the right to be protected by 
our flag,' said Dame Mildred, 'and 1 for one intend to stay 
here whether Sir Samson likes it or not.' 
'That's right,' said Mr Jagger. 
And after further mutual reassurances, the Bishop was 
sent to inform their host of their decision to remain. He 
found him peacefully dozing in a hammock under the 
mango trees. 
'You put me in a very difficult position,' he said when the 
situation had been eXplained to him. '1 wish that nothing of 
the sort had occurred at all. I am sure you would all be much 
more comfortable and equally safe in the town, but since you 
B.M.-o 209 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
wish to remain, pray consider yourselves my guests for as 
long as it takes to relieve your apprehensions,' and feeling 
that affairs had got completely outside his control, the Envoy 
relapsed into sleep. 
Later that afternoon, when Lady Courteney had con- 
trived to find occupation for all her guests, some at the 
bagatelle board, others with Peggity, photograph albums, 
cards or croquet, the party suffered a further and far from 
welcome addition; a dusty figure in native costume who 
propped a rifle against the fireplace before coming forward 
to shake her hand. 
'Oh dear, oh dear,' she said, 'have you come to stay with 
us too?' 
'Only for tonight,' said Basil. 'I've got to be off first thing 
tomorrow. Where can I put up my camels?' 
'Good gracious, I don't think we've ever had such a thing 
here before. Have you more than one?' 
'Ten. I'm passing as a Sakuyu merchant. They're outside 
with the boys. I dare say they'll find a place for them. 
They're vicious beasts though. D'you think 1 could have 
some whisky?' 
'Yes, no dOll bt the butler can find you some, and would 
you like William to lend you some clothes?' 
'No, I'll stay in these, thanks. Got to get used to moving 
about in them. It's the only way I can hope to get through. 
They had two shots at bumping me off yesterday.' 
The company forsook their pastimes and crowded round 
the new-comer. 
'How are things in the city?' 
'As bad as they can be. The army feel they've been sold a 
pup and won't leave barracks. Connolly's gone off with most 
of his staff to try and find Seth. The Patriarch's in hiding 
somewhere in the town. Ngumo's men have had a big dust- 
up with the police and are pretty well on top at the moment. 
210 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
They've got into the liquor saloons which Connolly closed 
yesterday. As soon as it's dark they'll start looting again.' 
'There,' said Dame Mildred, 'and the Minister expected 
us to leave today.' 
'Oh, I shouldn't count on being too safe here. There's a 
gang breaking up the American Legation now. Ballon's 
ordered an aeroplane from the mainland. I expect you'll get 
a raid tonight or tomorrow. Your sowars don't look up to 
much serious work.' 
'And where are you going?' 
'After Seth and Boaz. We've a rendezvous five days' ride 
out of town at a farm of Boaz's on the edge of the Wanda 
country. There's just a chance of getting the boy back if he 
plays his cards properly. But there's bound to be serious 
fighting, whatever happens.' 
Shivers of half-pleasant alarm went through his listeners. 
'Mr Seal,' Lady Courteney benignly interposed at last. '1 
think it's very mischievous of you saying all this. I'm sure 
that things are not nearly as bad as you make out. You're 
just talking. Now go and get yourseH some whisky and talk 
to Prudence, and 1 think you might put that dirty gun out- 
side in the lobby.' 


'Oh, Basil, what is going to happen? I can't bear your going 
off like this and everything being so messy.' 
'Don't you worry, Prudence, everything'll be all right. 
We'll meet again, 1 promise you.' 
'But you said it was dangerous.' 
'1 was just piling it on to scare the old women.' 
'Basil, 1 don't believe you were.' 
'I should think they'll take you off by air from Khor- 
maksar. You've got Walsh down at Matodi. He's a sound- 
enough fellow. As soon as he learns what's happened he'U 
211 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
get through to Aden and arrange everything. You'll be all 
right, just you see.' 
'But it's you I'm worrying about.' 
'Don't you do that, Prudence. It's one of the things there's 
no sense in at all. People are always doing it and it doesn't 
get them anywhere.' 
'Anyway, you look lovely in those clothes.' 


Basil talked a great deal at dinner; the same large party was 
assembled, but he kept them all silent with tales of Sakuyu 
savagery, partly invented, partly remembered from the days 
of Connolly's confidence. '. . . shaved all the hair off her 
head and covered it with butter. White ants ate straight 
through into her skull . . . You still find blind old Europeans 
working with the slaves on some of the farms in the inter- 
ior; they're prisoners of war that were conveniently for- 
gotten about when peace was made . . . the Arab word for 
Sakuyu means Man-without-mercy. .. when they get 
drink in them they go completely insane. They can stay like 
that for days at a time, utterly unconscious of fatigue. 
They'd think nothing of the road out here if they thought 
they'd find alcohol when they got here. May 1 have another 
glass of whisky? . . .' 
When the men were left together at the table, the Minis- 
ter said, 'My boy, I don't know how much truth there is in 
all you've been saying, but I think you might not have 
talked like that before the ladies. If there is any danger, and 
I for one don't for a moment believe there is, the ladies 
should be kept in ignorance of the fact.' 
'Oh, I like to see them scared,' said Basil. 'Pass the de- 
canter, win you, Jagger, and now, sir, what arrangements 
are we making for defence?' 
'Arrangements for defence?' 
212 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
(Yes, of course you can't possibly have everyone separated 
in the different bungalows. They could all have their throats 
cut one at a time and none of us any the wiser. The com- 
pound is far too big to form a defensible unit. You'd better 
get everyone up here, arrange for shifts of guard and put 
a picket of your sowars with horses half a mile down the 
road to the town to bring the alarm if a raiding party comes 
into sight. You run in and talk to the women. I'll arrange it 
all for you.' 
And the Envoy Extraordinary could find nothing to say. 
The day had been too much for him. Everyone was stark 
crazy and damned bad-mannered too. They could do what 
they liked. He was going to smoke a cigar, alone, in his 
study. 
Basil took command. In half an hour the Legges and the 
Anstruthers, bearing children wrapped in blankets and their 
meagre supply of firearms, arrived in the drawing-room. 
'I suppose that this is necessary,' said Lady Courteney, 
'but I'm afraid that you'll none of you be at an comfortable.' 
An attempt to deceive the children that nothing unusual 
was afoot proved unsuccessful; it was not long before they 
were found in a corner of the hall enacting with tremendous 
gusto the death agonies of the Italian lady whose scalp was 
eaten by termites. 
'The gentleman in the funny clothes told us,' they ex- 
plained. 'Coo, mummy, it must have hurt.' 
The grown-ups moved restlessly about. 
'Anything we can do to help?' 
'Yes, count the cartridges out into equal piles. . . it 
might be a good thing to prepare some bandages too . . . 
Legge, the hinges of this shutter aren't too good. See if you 
can find a screwdriver.' 
It was about ten o'clock when it was discovered that the 
native servants, who had been massed in the Legation 
213 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
kitchens from the surrounding households, had silently 
taken their leave. Only Basil's camel boys remained in pos- 
session. They had compounded for themselves a vast stew of 
incongruous elements and were sodden with eating. 
'Other boys going home. No want cutting off heads. They 
much no good boys. We like it fine living here.' 
News of the desertion made havoc among the nerves in 
the drawing-room. Sir Samson merely voiced the feelings of 
aU his guests when, turning petulantly from the table, he 
remarked: 'It's no good. My heart is not in halma this even- 
ing.' 
But the night passed and no assault was made. The men 
of the party watched, three hours on, three hours off, at the 
various vulnerable points. Each slept with a weapon beside 
him, revolver, rook rifle, shot-gun or meat chopper. Con- 
tinuous low chattering in the rooms upstairs, rustle of dress- 
ing-gowns, patter of slippers and frequent shrill cries from 
the youngest Anstruther child in nightmare, told that the 
ladies were sleeping little. At dawn they assembled again 
with pale faces and strained eyes. Lady Courteney's English 
maid and the Goanese butler went to the kitchen and, cir- 
cumventing with difficulty the recumbent camel boys, made 
hot coffee. Spirits rose a little; they abandoned the under- 
tones which had become habitual during the last ten hours 
and spoke in normal voices; they began to yawn. Basil said, 
'One night over. Of course your real danger will come when 
supplies begin running short in the town.' 
That discouraged them from any genuine cheerfulness. 
They went out on to the lawn. Smoke lay low over the 
town. 
'Something still burning.' 
Presently Anstruther said, '1 say, though, look over there. 
Aren't those clouds?' 
'It's a week early for the rains.' 
214 



BLACK MISCHIEF 


'Still, you never know.' 
'That's rain all right,' said Basil. '1 was counting on it 
today or tomorrow. They got it last week in Kenya. It'll 
delay the repairs on the Lumo bridge pretty considerably.' 
'Then 1 must get those bulbs in this morning,' said Lady 
Courteney. 'It'll be a relief to have something sensible to do 
after tearing up sheets for bandages and sewing sand-bags. 
You might have told me before, Mr Seal.' 
'If I were you,' said Basil, '1 should start checking your 
stores and making out a scheme of rations. I should think 
my boys must have eaten a good week's provisions last night.' 
The party split up and attempted to occupy themselves in 
useful jobs about the house; soon, however, there came a 
sound which brought them out helter-skelter, all together 
again, chattering on the lawn; the drone of an approaching 
aeroplane. 
'That'll be Ballon,' said Basil, 'making his get-away.' 
But as the machine came into sight it became clear that 
it was making for the Legation; it flew low, circling over 
the compound and driving the ponies to frenzy in their 
stables. They could see the pilot's head looking at them over 
the side. A weighted flag fluttered from it to the ground, 
then the machine mounted again and soared off in the direc- 
tion of the coast. The Anstruther children ran, crowing with 
de]ight, to retrieve the message from the rose garden and 
bring it to the Minister. It was a brief pencil note, signed by 
the squadron-leader at Aden. Am bringing two troop car- 
riers, three bombers. Be prepared to evacuate whole British 
population from Legation in one hour from receiving this. 
Can carry official archives and bare personal necessities only. 


'That's Walsh's doing. Clever chap, always said so. But 1 say, 
though, what a rush.' 


215 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
For the next hour the Legation was in a ferment as a 
growing pile of luggage assembled on the lawn. 
'Official archives, indeed. There may be some papers 
about somewhere, William. See if any of them seem at all 
interesting. ' 
'We'll have to put the ponies out to grass and hope for the 
best. ' 
'Lock all doors and take the keys away. Not that it's likely 
to make any difference.' 
'Envoy, you can't bring all the pictures.' 
'How about passports?' 
The visitors from the town, having nothing to pack, did 
what they could to help the others. 
'I've never been up before. I'm told it often makes people 
unwell.' 
'Poor Mr Raith.' 
Basil, suddenly reduced to unimportance, stood by and 
watched the preparations, a solitary figure in his white 
Sakuyu robes Jeaning over his rifle like a sentinel. 
Prudence joined him and they walked together to the 
edge of the compound, out of sight behind some rhodo- 
dendrons. She was wearing a red beret jauntily on one side 
of her head. 
'Basil, give up this absurd Emperor, darling, and come 
with us.' 
'Can't do that.' 
'Please.' 
'No, Prudence, everything's going to be all right. Don't 
you worry. We'l) meet again somewhere.' 
Rain clouds on the horizon grew and spread across the 
bright sky. 
'It seems so much more going away when it's in an aero- 
plane, if you see what I mean.' 
'I see what you mean.' 


216 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Prudence, Prudence,' from Lady Courteney beyond the 
rhododendrons. 'You really can't take so many boxes.' 
In Basil's arms Prudence said, 'But the clothes smell 
odd.' 
'1 got them second-hand from a Sakuyu. He'd just stolen 
an evening suit from an Indian.' 
'Prudence. ' 
'All right, mum, coming. . . sweet Basi], I can't really 
bear it.' 
And she ran back to help eliminate her less serviceable 
hats. 
Quite soon, before anyone was ready for them, the five 
aeroplanes came into sight, roaring over the hills in strictly 
maintained formation. They landed and came to rest in the 
.compound. Air Force officers trotted forward and saluted, 
treating Sir Samson with a respect which somewhat sur- 
prised his household. 
'We ought to start as soon as we can, sir. There's a storm 
coming up.' 
With very little confusion the party embarked. The In- 
dian troopers and the Goan butler in one troop carrier, the 
children, clergy and senior members in the other. Mr 
Jagger, William and Prudence took their places in the cock- 
pits of the three bombers. Just as they were about to start, 
Prudence remembered something and clambered down. She 
raced back to the Legation, a swift, gay figure under her 
red beret, and returned panting with a loose sheaf of papers. 
'Nearly left the Panorama of Life behind,' she explained. 
The engines started up with immense din; the machines 
taxied forward and took off, mounted steadily, circled about 
in a neat arrow-head, dwindled and disappeared. Silence fell 
on the compound. It had all taken less than twenty minutes. 
Basil turned back alone to look for his camels. 
Prudence crouched in the cockpit, clutching her beret to 
217 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
her head. The air shrieked past her ears while the land- 
scape rolled away below in a leisurely fashion; the straggling 
city, half shrouded in smoke, disappeared behind them; 
open pasture dotted with cattle and little clusters of huts; 
presently the green lowlands and jungle country. She knew 
without particwar regret that she was leaving Debra Dowa 
for good. 
'Anyway,' she reflected, 'I ought to get some new ideas 
for the Panorama,' and already she seemed to be emerging 
into the new life which her mother had planned for her, 
and spoken of not long ago seated on Prudence's bed as she 
came to wish her good night. Aunt Harriet's house in Bel- 
grave Place; girls, luncheons, dances and young men, week- 
ends in country houses, tennis and hunting; aU the easy cir- 
cumstances of English life which she had read about often 
but never experienced. She would resume the acquaintance 
of friends she had known at school, 'and shan't I be able to 
show off tothem? They'll all seem so young and innocent. . .' 
English cold and fog and rain, grey twilight among isolated, 
bare trees and dripping coverts; London streets when the 
shops were closing and the pavements crowded with people 
going to Tube stations with evening papers; empty streets, 
late at night after dances, revealing unsuspected slopes, 
sluiced by men in almost mediaeval overalls. . . an English 
girl returning to claim her natural heritage . . . 
The aeroplane dipped suddenly, recalling her to the affairs 
of the moment. The pilot shouted back to her something 
which was lost on the wind. They were the extremity of one 
of the arms of the V. A goggled face from the machine in 
front looked back and down at them as they dropped below 
him, but her pilot signalled him on. Green undergrowth 
swam up towards them; the machine tilted a little and 
circled about, looking for a place to land. 
'Hold tight and don't worry,' was borne back to her on the 
218 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
wind. An open space appeared among the trees and bush. 
They circled again and dropped precisely into place, ]urched 
for a moment as though about to overturn, righted them- 
selves and stopped dead within a few feet of danger. 
'Wizard show that,' remarked the pilot. 
'Has anything awful happened?' 
'Nothing to worry about. Engine trouble. 1 can put it 
right in two shakes. Stay where you are. We'll catch them 
up before they reach Aden.' 


Rain broke late that afternoon with torrential tropic force. 
The smouldering warehouses of the city sizzled and steamed 
and the fire ended in thin black mud. Great pools collected 
in the streets; water eddied in the gutters, clogging the few 
drains with its burden of refuse. The tin roofs rang with the 
falling drops. Sodden rioters waded down the lanes to shel- 
ter; troops left their posts and returned to barracks huddled 
under cover in a stench of wet cloth. The surviving decora- 
tions from the pageant of birth control clung limply round 
the posts or, grown suddenly too heavy, snapped their 
strings and splashed into the mud below. Darkness de- 
scended upon a subdued city. 


For six confused days Basil floundered on towards the low- 
lands. For nine hours out of the twenty-four the rain fell 
regularly and unremittingly so that it usurped the sun's 
place as the measure of time and the caravan drove on 
through the darkness, striving hopelessly to recover the 
hours wasted under cover during the daylight. 
On their second day's journey Basil's boys brought a run- 
ner to him, who was carrying a sodden letter in the end of a 
cleft staff. 


219 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'A great chief will not suffer his messengers to be robbed.' 
'There is a time,' said Basil, 'when all things must be 
suffered. ' 
They took the message. It read: 


From Viscount Boaz, Minister of the Interior of the 
Azanian Empire, to the Earl of N gumo, Greeting. May this 
reach you. Peace be upon your house. Salute, in my name and 
in the name of my family, Achon whom some style Emperor 
of Azania, Chief of the Chiefs of Sakuyu, Lord of Wanda 
and Tyrant of the Seas. May his days be many and his pro- 
geny uncounted. I, Boaz, no mean man in the Empire, am 
now at Gulu on the Wanda marches; with me zs Seth whom 
some style Emperor. I tell you thzs so that Achon may know 
me for what I am, a loyal subject of the crown. I fear for 
Seth's health and await word from your Lordship as to how 
best he may be relieved of what troubles him. Boaz. 


'Go on in front of us,' Basil ordered the man, 'and tell Lord 
Boaz that Achon is dead.' 
'How can I return to my Lord, having lost the letter he 
gave me? Is my life a small thing?' 
'Go back to your Lord . Your life is a small thing beside 
the life of the Emperor.' 
Later two beasts lost their footing in the bed of a swoHen 
water-course and were washed down and tumbled among 
the boulders; during the third night march five of the hin- 
dermost deserted their leaders. The boys mutinied, first for 
more money; later they refused every inducement to pro- 
ceed. For two days Basil rode on alone, swaying and slipping 
towards his rendezvous. 


220 



B " I 
aSl rode t G 
o uIu 


221 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
Confusion dominated the soggy lanes of Matodi. Major 
Walsh, the French secretaries and Mr Schonbaum daily dis- 
patched conflicting messages by wireless and cable. First that 
Seth was dead and that Achon was Emperor, then that 
Achon was dead and Seth was Emperor. 
'Doubtless Mme Ballon could tell us where General Con- 
nolly is to be found.' 
'Alas, M. Jean, she will not speak.' 
'Do you suspect she knows more?' 
'M. Ballon's wife should be above suspicion.' 
The officials and soldiers loafed in the dry intervals about 
barracks and offices; they had no instructions and no 
money; no news from the capital. Destroyers of four nations 
lurked in the bay standing by to defend their nationals. 
The town governor made secret preparations for an early 
escape to the mainland. Mr Y oukoumian, behind the 
bar at the Amurath Hotel, nervously decocted his fierce 
spirits. 
'There ain't no sense in 'aving bust-ups. 'Ere we are, no 
Emperor, no railway, and those low niggers making 'elJ 
with my property at Debra Dowa. And just you see, in less 
than no time the civilized nations will start a bombardment. 
Gosh. ' 
In the dingy calm of the Arab club the six senior mem- 
bers munched their khat in peace and spoke gravely of a very 
old error of litigation. 
Amidst mud and liquid ash at Debra Dowa a leaderless 
people abandoned their normal avocations and squatted at 
home, occupying themselves with domestic bickerings; 
some of the rural immigrants drifted back to their villages, 
others found temporary accommodation in the saloons of the 
deserted palace, expecting something to happen. 
Among the dry clinkers of Aden, Sir Samson and Lady 
Courteney waited for news of the missing aeroplane. They 
222 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
were staying at the Residency, where everything was done 
that hospitality and tact could do to relieve the strain of 
their anxiety; newspaper agents and sympathetic com- 
patriots were kept from them. Dame Mildred and Miss Tin 
were shipped to Southampton by the first P. & O. Mr Jagger 
made preparations to leave a settlement he had little reason 
to like. Sir Samson and Lady Courteney walked alone on the 
cliff paths, waiting for news. Air patrols crossed to Azania, 
flying low over the impenetrable country where Prudence's 
machine was last observed, returned to refuel, set out again 
and at the end of the week had seen nothing to report. The 
military authorities discussed and despaired of the practica- 
bility of landing a search party. 


In the dry spell between noon and sunset, Basil reached 
Seth's encampment at Gulu. His men had taken possession 
of a small village. A dozen or so of them, in ragged uniforms, 
sat on their haunches in the clearing, silently polishing their 
teeth with pieces of stick. 
His camel lurched down on to its knees and Basil dis- 
mounted. None of the Guardsmen rose to salute him; no 
sign of greeting from inside the mud huts. The squatting 
men looked into the steaming forest beyond him. 
He asked: 'Where is the Emperor?' But no one answered. 
'Where is Boaz?' 
'In the great house. He is resting.' 
They indicated the headman's hut which stood on the far 
side of the compound, distinguished from the others by its 
superior size and a narrow verandah, floored with beaten 
mud and shaded by thatch. 
'Why is the Emperor not in the great house?' 
They did not answer. Instead, they scoured their teeth 
and gazed abstractedly into the forest, where a few monkeys 
225 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
swung in the steaming air, shaking the water from bough 
to bough. 
Basil crossed through them to the headman's hut. It was 
windowless and for a short time his eyes could distinguish 
nothing in the gloom. Only his ears were aware of a heavily 
breathing figure somewhere not far distant in the dark 
interior. Then he gradually descried a jumble of household 
furniture, camp equipment and the remains of a meal; and 
Boaz asleep. The great dandy lay on his back in a heap of 
rugs and sacking; his head pitched forward into his blue- 
black curly beard. There was a rifle across his middle. He 
wore a pair of mud-splashed riding breeches, too tight to 
button to the top, which Basil recognized as the Emperor's. 
A Wanda girl sat at his head. She eXplained: 'The Lord has 
been asleep for some time. For the last days it has been like 
this. He wakes only to drink from the square bottle. Then he 
is asleep again.' 
'Bring me word when he wakes.' 
Basil approached the oafish fellows in the clearing. 
'Show me a house where I can sleep.' 
They pointed one out to him without rising to accompany 
him to its door. Water still dripped through its leaky 
thatch, there was a large puddle of thin mud made during 
the rain. Basil lay down on the dry side and waited for Boaz 
to wake. 
They called him an hour after sunset. The men had lit a 
fire, but only a small one, because they knew that at mid- 
night the rain would begin again and dowse it. There was a 
light in the headman's hut - a fine brass lamp with wick and 
chimney. Boaz had put out two glasses and two bottles of 
whisky. Basil's first words were, 'Where is Seth?' 
'He is not here. He has gone away.' 
'Where?' 
'How shall 1 know? Look, I have filled your glass.' 
224 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'I sent a messenger to him, with the news that Achon 19'U 
dead. ' 
'Seth had already gone when the messenger came.' 
'And where is the messenger?' 
'He brought bad tidings. He is dead. Turn the light 
higher. It is bad to sit in the dark.' 
He gulped down a glass of spirit and refilled his glass. 
They sat in silence. 
Presently Boaz said, 'Seth is dead.' 
'1 knew. How?' 
'The sickness of the jungle. His legs and his arms swelled. 
He turned up his eyes and died. I have seen others die in 
just that way.' 
Later he said, 'So now there is no Emperor. It is a pity 
that your messenger did not come a day sooner. I hanged 
him because he was late.' 
'Boaz, the sickness of the jungle does not wait on good or 
bad news.' 
'That is true. Seth died in another way. By his own hand. 
With a gun raised to his mouth and his great toe crooked 
round the trigger. That is how Seth died.' 
'It is not what I should have expected.' 
'Men die that way. I have heard of it often. His body lies 
outside. The men will not bury it. They say it must be taken 
down to Moshu to the Wanda people to be burned in their 
own fashion. Seth was their chief.' 
'We will do that tomorrow.' 
Outside round the fire, inevitably, they had started sing- 
ing. The drums pulsed. In the sodden depths of the forest 
the wild beasts hunted, shunning the light. 
'I will go and see Seth's body.' 
'The women are sewing him up. They made a bag for him 
out of pieces of skin. It is the custom when the chief dies. 
They put grain in with him and several spices. Only the 
B.M.-P 225 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
women know what. If they can get it they put a lion's paw, I 
have been told.' 
'We will go and look at him.' 
'It is not the custom of the people.' 
'1 will carry the lamp.' 
'You must not leave me in the dark. I will come with you.' 
Past the camp fire and the singing Guardsmen to another 
hut: here by the light of a little lamp four or five women 
were at work stitching. Seth's body lay on the floor half 
covered by a blanket. Boaz leant tipsily in the doorway while 
Basil went forward, lamp in hand. The eldest of the women 
tried to bar his entrance, but he pushed her aside and ap- 
proached the dead Emperor. 
His head lay inclined to one side, the lips agape, the eyes 
open and dull. He wore his Guards tunic, buttoned tight at 
the throat, the epaulettes awry and bedraggled. There was 
no wound visible. Basil drew the blanket higher and re- 
joined the Minister. 
'The Emperor did not shoot himself.' 
'No.' 
'There is no wound to be seen.' 
'Did 1 say he was shot? That is a mistake. He took poison. 
That is how it happened . . . it has happened before in that 
way to other great men. It was a draught given him by a 
wise man in these parts. When he despaired he took some of 
it . . . a large cupful and drank it . . . there in the hut. I 
was with him. He made a wry face and said that the 
draught was bitter. Then he stood still a little until his knees 
gave. On the floor he rolled up and down several times. He 
could not breathe. Then his legs shot straight out and he 
arched his back. That is how he lay until yesterday when the 
body became limp again. That was how he died . . . The 
messenger was late in coming.' 
They left the women to their work. Boaz stumbled several 
226 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
times as he returned to the headman's hut and his bottle of 
whisky. Basil left him with the lamp and returned in the 
firelit night to his hut. 
A man was waiting for him in the shadows. 'Boaz is still 
drunk. ' 
'Yes. Who are you?' 
'Major Joab of the Imperial Infantry, at your service.' 
'Well, major?' 
'It has been like this since the Emperor's death.' 
, Boaz?' 
'Yes.' 
'Did you see the Emperor die?' 
'1 am a soldier. It is not for me to meddle with high 
politics. I am a soldier without a master.' 
'There is duty due to a master, even when he is dead.' 
'Do 1 understand you?' 
'Tomorrow we take down the body of Seth to be burned 
at Moshu among his people. He should rejoin the great 
Amurath and the spirits of his fathers like a king and a fine 
man. Can he meet them unashamed if his servants forget 
their duty while his body is still with them?' 
'I understand you.' 
After midnight the rain fell. The men round the fire 
carried a burning brand into one of the huts and lit a fire 
there. Great drops sizzled and spat among the deserted 
embers; they changed from yellow to red and then to black. 
Heavy patter of rain on the thatched roofs, quickening to 
an even blurr of sound. 
A piercing, womanish cry, that mounted, soared shivering, 
quavered and merged in the splash and gurgle of the water. 
'Major Joab of the Imperial Infantry at your service. 
Boaz is dead.' 
'Peace be on your house.' 


227 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
Next day they carried the body of the Emperor to Moshu. 
Basil rode at the head of the procession. The others followed 
on foot. The body, sewn in skins, was strapped to a pole and 
carried on the shoulders of two Guardsmen. Twice during 
the journey they slipped and their burden fell in the soft 
mud of the jungle path. Basil sent on a runner to the Chief, 
saying: 'Assemble your people, kill your best meat and pre- 
pare a feast in the manner of your people. I am bringing a 
great chief among you.' 
But the news preceded him and tribesmen came out to 
greet them on the way and conduct them with music to 
Moshu. The wise men of the surrounding villages danced in 
the mud in front of Basil's camel, wearing livery of the high- 
est solemnity, leopards' feet and snake-skins, necklets of 
lions' teeth, shrivelled bodies of toads and bats, and towering 
masks of painted leather and wood. The women daubed 
their hair with ochre and clay in the fashion of the people. 
Moshu was a royal city; the chief market and government 
centre of the Wanda country. It was ditched round and en- 
closed by high ramparts. Arab slavers had settled there a 
century ago and built streets of two-storied, lightless houses; 
square, with flat roofs on rubble walls washed over with lime 
and red earth. Among them stood circular Wanda huts of 
mud and thatched grass. A permanent artisan population 
lived there, blacksmiths, jewellers, leather workers, minis- 
tering to the needs of the scattered jungle people. There 
were several merchants in a good way of business with barns 
storing grain, oil, spices and salt, and a few Indians trading 
in hardware and coloured cottons, products of the looms of 
Europe and Japan. 
A pyre had been heaped up, of dry logs and straw, six foot 
high, in the market-place. A large crowd was already assem- 
bled there and in another quarter a communal kitchen had 
been improvised where great cook-pots rested over crackling 
228 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
sticks. Earthenware jars of fermented coconut sap stood 
ready to be broached when the proper moment arrived. 
The feast began late in the afternoon. Basil and Joab sat 
among the chiefs and headmen. The wise men danced 
round the pyre, shaking their strings of charms and amulets, 
wagging their tufted rumps and uttering cries of ecstasy. 
They carried little knives and cut themselves as they capered 
round. Meanwhile Seth's body was bundled on to the fag- 
gots and a tin of oil sluiced over it. 
'It is usual for the highest man present to speak some 
praise of the dead.' 
Basil nodded and in the circle of fuzzy heads rose to de- 
claim Seth's funeral oration. It was no more candid than 
most royal obituaries. It was what was required. 'Chiefs and 
tribesmen of the Wanda,' he said, speaking with confident 
fluency in the Wanda tongue, of which he had acquired a 
fair knowledge during his stay in Azania. 'Peace be among 
you. I bring the body of the Great Chief, who has gone to 
rejoin Amurath and the spirits of his glorious ancestors. It is 
right for us to remember Seth. He was a great Emperor and 
all the peoples of the world vied with each other to do him 
homage. In his own island, among the people of Sakuyu and 
the Arabs, across the great waters to the mainland, far be- 
yond in the cold lands of the North, Seth's name was a name 
of terror. Seyid rose against him and is no more. Achon also. 
They are gone before him to prepare suitable lodging 
among the fields of his ancestors. Thousands fell by his right 
hand. The words of his mouth were like thunder in the hills. 
Weep, women of Azania, for your royal lover is torn from 
your arms. His virility was inexhaustible, his progeny num- 
erous beyond human computation. His staff was a grown 
palm tree. Weep, warriors of Azania. When he led you to 
battle there was no retreating. In council the most guileful, 
in justice the most terrible, Seth the magnificent is dead.' 
229 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
The bards caught phrases from the lament and sang them. 
The wise men ran whooping among the spectators carrying 
torches. Soon the pyre was enveloped in towering flames. 
The people took up the song and swayed on their haunches, 
chanting. The bundle on the crest bubbled and spluttered 
like fresh pine until the skin cerements burst open and 
revealed briefly in the heart of the furnace the incandescent 
corpse of the Emperor. Then there was a subsidence among 
the timbers and it disappeared from view. 
Soon after sunset the flames declined and it was necessary 
to refuel them. Many of the tribesmen had joined the dance 
of the witches. With hands on each other's hips they made a 
chain round the pyre, shuffling their feet and heaving their 
shoulders, spasmodically throwing back their heads and bay- 
ing like wild beasts. 
The chiefs gave the sign for the feast to begin. 
The company split up into groups, each round a cookpot. 
Basil and Joab sat with the chiefs. They ate flat bread and 
meat, stewed to pwp among peppers and aromatic roots. 
Each dipped into the pot in rotation, plunging with his hands 
for the best scraps. A bowl of toddy circulated from lap to lap 
and great drops of sweat broke out on the brows of the 
mourners. 
Dancing was resumed, faster this time and more clearly 
oblivious of fatigue. In emulation of the witch doctors, the 
tribesmen began slashing themselves on chest and arms with 
their hunting knives; blood and sweat mingled in shining 
rivulets over their dark skins. Now and then one of them 
would pitch forward on to his face and lie panting or roll stiff 
in a nervous seizure. Women joined in the dance, making 
another chain, circling in the reverse way to the men. 
They were dazed with drink, stamping themselves into 
ecstasy. The two chains jostled and combined. They shuffled 
together interlocked. 


230 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
Basil drew back a little from the heat of the fire, his senses 
dazed by the crude spirit and the insistence of the music. In 
the shadows, in the extremities of the market-place, black 
figures sprawled and grunted, alone and in couples. Near 
him an elderly woman stamped and shuffled; suddenly she 
threw up her arms and fell to the ground in ecstasy. The 
hand-drums throbbed and pulsed; the flames leapt and 
showered the night with sparks. 
The headman of Moshu sat where they had dined, nurs- 
ing the bowl of toddy. He wore an Azanian white robe, 
splashed with gravy and spirit. His scalp was closely shaven; 
he nodded down to the lip of the bowl and drank. Then he 
clumsily offered it to Basil. Basil refused; he gaped and 
offered it again. Then took another draught himself. Then 
he nodded again and drew something from his bosom and 
put it on his head. 'Look,' he said. 'Pretty.' 
It was a beret of pillar-box red. Through the stupor that 
was slowly mounting and encompassing his mind Basil re- 
cognized it. Prudence had worn it jauntily on the side of her 
head, running across the Legation lawn with the Panorama 
of Life under her arm. He shook the old fellow roughly by 
the shoulder. 
'Where did you get that?' 
'Pretty. ' 
'Where did you get it?' 
'Pretty hat. It came in the great bird. The white woman 
wore it. On her head like this.' He giggled wealcly and pulled 
it askew over his glistening pate. 
'But the white woman. Where is she?' 
But the headman was lapsing into coma. He said 'Pretty' 
again and turned up sightless eyes. 
Basil shook him violently. 'Speak, you old fool. Where is 
the white woman?' 
The headman grunted and stirred; then a flicker of 
251 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
consciousness revived in him. He raised his head. 'The white 
woman? Why, here,' he patted his distended paunch. 'You 
and I and the big chiefs - we have just eaten her.' 
Then he fell forward into a sound sleep. 
Round and round circled the dancers, ochre and blood 
and sweat glistening in the firelight; the wise men's head- 
gear swayed high above them, leopards' feet and snake skins, 
amulets and necklaces, lions' teeth and the shrivelled bodies 
of bats and toads, jigging and spinning. Tireless hands 
drumming out the rhythm; glistening backs heaving and 
shivering in the shadows. 
Later, a little after midnight, it began to rain. 


232 



Chapter Eight 
When the telephone bell rang Alastair said: 'You answer 
it. I don't think I can stand up,' so Sonia crossed to the 
window where it stood and said: 'Yes, who is it? . . . Basz1 
. . . well, who'd have thought of that? Where can you be?' 
'I'm at Barbara's. I thought of coming round to see you 
and Alastair.' 
'Darling, do . . . how did you know where we lived?' 
'It was in the telephone book. Is it nice?' 
'Lousy. You'll see when you come. Alastair thought it 
would be cheaper, but it isn't really. You'll never find the 
door. It's painted red and it's next to a pretty shady sort of 
chemist. ' 
'I'll be along.' 
Ten minutes later he was there. Sonia opened the door. 
'We haven't any servants. We got very poor suddenly. How 
long have you been back?' 
'Landed last night. What's been happening?' 
'Almost nothing. Everyone's got very poor and it makes 
them duller. It's more than a year since we saw you. How 
are things at Barbara's?' 
'Well, Freddy doesn't know I'm here yet. That's why I'm 
dining out. Barbara's going to tell him gently. 1 gather my 
mamma is sore with me about something. How's Angela?' 
'Just the same. She's the only one who doesn't seem to 
have lost money. Margot's shut up her house and is spending 
the winter in America. There was a general election and a 
crisis - something about gold standard.' 
'I know. It's amusing to be back.' 
'We've missed you. As I say, people have gone serious 
233 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
lately, while you've just been loafing about the tropics. 
Alastair found something about Azania in the papers once. 1 
forget what. Some revolution and a minister's daughter who 
disappeared. I suppose you were in on all that.' 
, Yes. ' 
'Can't think what you see in revolutions. They said there 
was going to be one here, only nothing came of it. 1 suppose 
you ran the whole country.' 
'As a matter of fact, I did.' 
'And fell madly in love.' 
'Yes.' 
'And intrigued and had a court official's throat cut.' 
'Yes. ' 
'And went to a cannibal banquet. Darling, 1 just don't 
want to hear about it, d'you mind? I'm sure it's all very fine 
and grand, but it doesn't make much sense to a stay-at-home 
like me.' 
'That's the way to deal with him,' said Alastair from his 
armchair. 'Keep a stopper on the far-flung stuff.' 
'Or write a book about it, sweety. Then we can buy it and 
leave it about where you'll see and then you'll think we 
know . . . What are you going to do now you're back?' 
'No plans. I think I've had enough of barbarism for a bit. 
I might stay in London or Berlin or somewhere like that.' 
'That'll be nice. Make it London. We'll have some parties 
like the old ones.' 
'D'you know, I'm not sure I shouldn't fmd them a bit flat 
after the real thing. 1 went to a party at a place called 
Moshu. . .' 
'Basil. Once and for all, we don't want to hear travel ex- 
periences. Do try and remember.' 
So they played Happy Families till ten, when Alastair said, 
'Have we had dinner?' and Sonia said, 'No, let's.' Then they 
went out to a new cocktail club which Alastair had heard 
234 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
was cheap, and had lager beer and liver sandwiches; they 
proved to be very expensive. 
Later Basil went round to see Angela Lyne, and Sonia as 
she undressed said to Alastair, 'D'you know, deep down in 
my heart I've got a tiny fear that Basil is going to turn seri- 
ous on us too!' 


Evening in Matodi. Two Arab gentlemen, hand in hand, 
sauntered by the sea-wall. 
Among the dhows and nondescript craft in the harbour lay 
two smart launches manned by British and French sailors, 
for Azania had lately been mandated by the League of 
Nations as a joint protectorate. 
'They are always at work polishing the brass.' 
'It must be very expensive. And they are building a new 
customs house.' 
'And a police station and a fever hospital, a European 
club.' 
'There are many new bungalows on the hills.' 
'They are making a big fIeld to play games in.' 
'Every week they wash the streets with water. They take 
the children in the schools and scratch their arms to rub in 
poison. It makes them very ill.' 
'They put a man in prison for overburdening his camel.' 
'There is a Frenchman in charge at the post office. He is 
always hot and in a great hurry.' 
'They are building a black road through the hills to 
Debra Dowa. The railway is to be removed.' 
'Mr Y oukoumian has bought the rails and what was left 
of the engines. He hopes to sell them in Eritrea.' 
'Things were better in the time of Seth. It is no longer a 
gentleman's country.' 
The muezzin in the tower turned north towards Mekka 
235 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
and called azan over the city. The Arabs paused reverently 
and stood in silence . . . God is great . . . There is no God 
but God . . . Mohammed is the apostle of God . . . 
A two-seater car whizzed by, driven by Mr Reppington, 
the district magistrate. Mrs Reppington sat beside him. 
'The little bus took that nicely.' 
Angelus from the mission church. . . gratia plena; domi- 
nus tecum; Benedicta tu in mulieribus . . . 
The car left the town and mounted towards the hills. 
'Phew. It's a relief to get out into the fresh air.' 
'Awful road. It ought to be finished by now. 1 get quite 
afraid for her back axle.' 
'I said we'd drop into the Brethertons for a sundowner.' 
'Right you are. Only we can't stay long. We're dining 
with the Lepperidges.' 
A mile above the town they stopped at the second of six 
identical bungalows. Each had a verandah and a garden 
path; a slotted box on the gate-post for calling cards. The 
Brethertons were on the verandah. 
'Cheerio, Mrs Reppington. Cocktail?' 
'Please. ' 
'And you, Reppington?' 
'Chota peg.' 
Bretherton was sanitary inspector and consequently of 
slightly inferior station to Reppington, but that year he 
would sit for his Arabic exam.; if he brought it off it would 
make them level on the salary list. 
'What sort of day?' 
'Oh, the usual. Just tooled round condemning native 
houses. How are things at the Fort?' 
'Not so dusty. We settled that case I told you about. You 
know, the one of the natives who built a house in a broken 
lorry in the middle of the road.' 
'Oh, ah. Who won it?' 


236 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Oh, we gave it to the chap in possession on both counts. 
The Arab who originally owned the car was suing him. So 
were the Worb Department - wanted to evict him because 
he blocked the traffic. They'll have to make a new road 
round him now. They're pretty fed up, I can tell you. So are 
the Frenchies.' 
'Good show.' 
'Yes, give the natives respect for British justice. Can't 
make your Frenchy see that. . . Why, it's later than 1 
thought. We must be pushing along, old girl. You're not 
dining with the Lepperidges by any chance?' 
'No.' 
The Brethertons were not on dining terms with the Lep- 
peridges. He was O.C. of the native levy, seconded from 
India and a very considerable man in Matodi. He always 
referred to Bretherton as the 'latrine wallah'. 
So the Reppingtons went to dress in their bungalow (fifth 
of the row), she in black lace, he in white mess-jacket. 
Punctually at 8.15 they stepped across to the Lepperidges'. 
There were five courses at dinner, mostly from tins, and a 
glass dish in the centre of the table held floating flower 
heads. Mr and Mrs Grainger were there; Mr Grainger was 
immigration officer. He said: 'We've had rather a shari this 
afternoon about that fellow Connolly. You see, strictly 
speaking, he can claim Azanian nationality. He seems to 
have been quite a big bug under the Emperor. Ran the army 
for him. Got made a Duke or something. Last sort of fellow 
one wants hanging about.' 
'Quite. ' 
'Jungly Wallah. They say in the old days he had an affair 
with the wife of the French Minister. That made the 
Frenchies anxious to get rid of him.' 
'Quite. It helps if one can oblige them now and then in 
small things.' 


237 



AUX QUAIS 

i.fJ; ,9

rfli 



 


Destination unknown 


258 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
'Besides, you know, he's ma.rried to a wog. Well, 1 mean 
to say. . .' 
'Quite. ' 
'But 1 think we're going to get rid of him all right. De- 
port him D.B.S. He lost all his money in the revolution.' 
'And the woman in the case?' 
'Well, that's no business of ours once we clear him out of 
here. They seem struck on each other all right. He'll find it 
pretty awkward. Aren't many places would have him. Abys- 
sinia might. It was different when this place was indepen- 
dent. ' 
'Quite. ' 
'Jolly good tinned fruit salad, if you don't mind my saying 
so, Mrs Lepperidge.' 
'So glad you like it. 1 got it from Y oukoumian's.' 
'Useful little fellow Youkoumian. 1 use him a lot. He's 
getting me boots for the levy. Came to me himself with the 
idea. Said they pick up hookworm through going barefoot.' 
'Good show.' 
'Quite. ' 


Night over Matodi. English and French police patrolling the 
water-front. Gilbert and Sullivan played by gramophone in 
the Portuguese Fort. 


Three lzitle maids from school are we, 
Pert as a schoolgirl well can be, 
Filled to the brim wzih girlish glee - 
Three little maids from school. 


The melody and the clear voices floated out over the 
harbour and the water lapping very gently on the sea-wall. 
Two British policemen marched abreast through the in- 
volved ways of the native quarter. The dogs had long ago 
239 



BLACK MISCHIEF 
been rounded up and painlessly put away. The streets were 
empty save for an occasional muffled figure slipping by 
them silently with a lantern. The blank walls of the Arab 
tenements gave no sign of life. 


On a tree by a river a little tom tit 
Sang Willow, tit-willow, tzi-willow. 
And I said to him 'Dicky bird, why do you sit 
Singing Willow, tit-willow, tit-willow?' 


Mr Y oukoumian tactfully ejected his last customer and 
fastened the shutters of the cafe. 'Very sorry,' he said. 'New 
regulation. No drinking after ten-thirty. 1 don't want no 
bust-ups. ' 


'Is zi weakness of intellect, birdie?' I cried, 
'Or a rather tough worm in your little inside?' 
With a shake of his poor little head, he replied, 
'Oh willow, tit-willow, tit-willow.' 


The song rang clear over the dark city and the soft, barely 
perceptible lapping of the water along the sea-wall. 


THE END 


Stonyhurst - Chagford - Madresfield 
September 1931 - May 1932