Agatha Christie - Appointment with Death

"Yes, I am." She turned a perplexed face to him. "It's a wonderful idea-to have a place of sacrifice up here. I think, sometimes, don't you, that a sacrifice is necessary… I mean, one can have too much regard for life. Death isn't really so important as we make out."

"If you feel that, Miss King, you should not have adopted our profession. To us, death is-and must always be-the Enemy."

Sarah shivered. "Yes, I suppose you're right. And yet, so often, death might solve a problem. It might even mean fuller life…"

"'It is expedient for us that one man should die for the people!'" quoted Gerard gravely.

Sarah turned a startled face on him. "I didn't mean-"

She broke off. Jefferson Cope was approaching them. "Now this is really a most remarkable spot," he declared. "Most remarkable, and I'm only too pleased not to have missed it. I don't mind confessing that though Mrs. Boynton is certainly a most remarkable woman. I greatly admire her pluck in being determined to come here. It does certainly complicate matters traveling with her. Her health is poor, and I suppose it naturally makes |her a little inconsiderate of other people's feelings, but it does not seem to occur to her that her family might like occasionally to go on excursions without her. She's just so used to them clustering round her that I suppose she doesn't think-" Mr. Cope broke off. His nice kindly face looked a little disturbed and uncomfortable, "You know," he said, "I heard a piece of information about Mrs. Boynton that disturbed me greatly."

Sarah was lost in her own thoughts again. Mr. Cope's voice just flowed pleasantly in her ears like the agreeable murmur of a remote stream, but Dr. Gerard said: "Indeed? What was it?"

"My informant was a lady I came across in the hotel at Tiberias. It concerned a servant girl who had been in Mrs. Boynton's employ. This girl, I gather, was-had-" Mr. Cope paused, glanced delicately at Sarah and lowered his voice. "She was going to have a child. The old lady, it seemed, discovered this but was apparently quite kind to the girl. Then a few weeks before the child was born she turned her out of the house."

Dr. Gerard's eyebrows went up. "Ah," he said reflectively.

"My informant seemed very positive of her facts. I don't know whether you agree with me, but that seems to me a very cruel and heartless thing to do. I cannot understand-"

Dr. Gerard interrupted him. "You should try to. That incident, I have no doubt, gave Mrs. Boynton a good deal of quiet enjoyment."

Mr. Cope turned a shocked face on him. "No, sir," he said with emphasis. "That I cannot believe. Such an idea is quite inconceivable."

Softly Dr. Gerard quoted: "'So I returned and did consider all the oppressions done beneath the sun. And there was weeping and whining from those that were oppressed and had no comfort; for with their oppressors there was power, so that no one came to comfort them. Then I did praise the dead which are already dead, yea, more than the living which linger still in life; yea, he that is not is better than dead or living; for he doth not know of the evil that is wrought forever on earth…'" He broke off and said: "My dear sir, I have made a life's study of the strange things that go on in the human mind. It is no good turning one's face only to the fairer side of life. Below the decencies and conventions of everyday life, there lies a vast reservoir of strange things. There is such a thing, for instance, as delight in cruelty for its own sake. But when you have found that, there is something deeper still. The desire, profound and pitiful, to be appreciated. If that is thwarted, if through an unpleasing personality a human being is unable to get the response it needs, it turns to other methods-it must be felt-it must count-and so to innumerable strange perversions. The habit of cruelty, like any other habit, can be cultivated, can take hold of one-"

Mr. Cope coughed. "I think, Dr. Gerard, that you are slightly exaggerating. Really, the air up here is too wonderful…" He edged away. Gerard smiled a little. He looked again at Sarah. She was frowning-her face was set in a youthful sternness. She looked, he thought, like a young judge delivering sentence…

He turned as Miss Pierce tripped unsteadily towards him.

"We are going down now," she fluttered. "Oh, dear! I am sure I shall never manage it, but the guide says the way down is quite a different route and much easier. I do hope so, because from a child I never have been able to look down from heights…"

The descent was down the course of a waterfall. Although there were loose stones which were a possible source of danger to ankles, it presented no dizzy vistas.

The party arrived back at the camp weary but in good spirits and with an excellent appetite for a late lunch. It was past two o'clock. The Boynton family was sitting around the big table in the marquee. They were just finishing their meal.

Lady Westholme addressed a gracious sentence to them in her most condescending manner. "Really a most interesting morning," she said. "Petra is a wonderful spot."

Carol, to whom the words seemed addressed, shot a quick look at her mother, and murmured: "Oh, yes-yes, it is," and relapsed into silence.

Lady Westholme, feeling she had done her duty, addressed herself to her food. As they ate, the four discussed plans for the afternoon.

"I think I shall rest most of the afternoon," said Miss Pierce. "It is important, I think, not to do too much."

"I shall go for a walk and explore," said Sarah. "What about you Dr. Gerard?"

"I will go with you."

Mrs. Boynton dropped a spoon with a ringing clatter and everyone jumped.

"I think," said Lady Westholme, "that I shall follow your example Miss Pierce. Perhaps half an hour with a book, then I shall lie down and take an hour's rest at least. After that, perhaps, a short stroll."

Slowly, with the help of Lennox, old Mrs. Boynton struggled to her feet. She stood for a moment and then spoke. "You'd better all go for a walk this afternoon," she said with unexpected amiability.

It was, perhaps, slightly ludicrous to see the startled faces of her family.

"But, Mother, what about you?"

"I don't need any of you. I like sitting alone with my book. Jinny had better not go. She'll lie down and have a sleep."

"Mother, I'm not tired. I want to go with the others."

"You are tired. You've got a headache! You must be careful of yourself. Go and lie down and sleep. I know what's best for you."

Her head thrown back, the girl stared rebelliously. Then her eyes dropped-faltered…

"Silly child," said Mrs. Boynton. "Go to your tent."

She stumped out of the marquee-the others followed.

"Dear me," said Miss Pierce. "What very peculiar people. Such a very odd color, the mother. Quite purple. Heart, I should imagine. This heat must be very trying for her."

Sarah thought: "She's letting them go free this afternoon. She knows Raymond wants to be with me. Why? Is it a trap?"

After lunch, when she had gone to her tent and had changed into a fresh linen dress, the thought still worried her. Since last night, her feeling towards Raymond had swelled into a passion of protective tenderness. This, then, was love, this agony on another's behalf, this desire to avert, at all costs, pain from the beloved… Yes, she loved Raymond Boynton. It was St. George and the Dragon reversed. It was she who was the rescuer and Raymond who was the chained victim.

And Mrs. Boynton was the Dragon. A dragon whose sudden amiability was, to Sarah's suspicious mind, definitely sinister.

It was about a quarter past three when Sarah strolled down to the marquee.

Lady Westholrne was sitting on a chair. Despite the heat of the day she was still wearing her serviceable Harris tweed skirt. On her lap was the report of a Royal Commission. Dr. Gerard was talking to Miss Pierce who was standing by her tent holding a book entitled The Love Quest and described on its wrapper as a thrilling tale of passion and misunderstanding.