Lawrence Durrell - Judith

“Tonight. Very late.”

“Tonight?” She opened her dark eyes very wide and gazed at him. Isaac nodded.

“We are through the sea-blockade and on the coast now. Unless we are picked up by a patrol-boat we should… But he was too superstitious to complete the sentence, and simply contented himself with touching wood.

“What luck!” she said.

“Indeed.”

The news itself was intoxicating. She stretched her arms and yawned; then she tried out her newly formed legs once more.

“You see?” she said, “I can walk okay.”

“But now you are going to sleep. No noise please. I’ll wake you when the time comes. By the way, the man who calls himself Melchior. Is he a relation or a friend?”

“Never saw him before. I don’t know who he is. I hardly know… who I am any more. We were taken from the cellar of a house by a man. It is all very confusing. How they got me out of Germany I don’t know.”

Isaac nodded sympathetically, for the story was a familiar one. The girl sat down, reflectively, and considered the matter with her head on one side. “If you asked me, I couldn’t tell you. I’ve seen nothing but the inside of cattle-trucks, cellars and lorries for weeks.” Her lip trembled, but she recovered herself and smiled at him wanly.

“Good girl. Now drink this and sleep,” said Isaac in a voice of command. “Everything will be all right.”

She closed her eyes again, smiling. The phrase was both reassuring and richly ironic. Isaac padded back on deck with the empty cup and plate. “She’s all right,” he told Nadeb with satisfaction. “But the other chap… The prophet posed a problem, for he was still feverish and noisy despite the morphia. They decided that he would have to be strapped to a stretcher to be taken ashore.

Meanwhile “Zion”, at a reduced speed, was scouting the confines of the dark coast. Here and there shone small starlets of light from the distant villages. But the sea was deserted and calm. Once more Isaac had managed to sidle between the waiting ships and strike land; but he was now in an even more dangerous area, with the risk of mines and patrol-boats to think about. Yet something told him that the journey would be successful. If only the rendezvous worked out… He consulted the phosphorescent hands of his watch and turned the “Zion” a few points east, until they were running parallel to the long beaches, and close enough to hear the waves breaking on them. At four they discerned the faint etching of a fortress and a deserted sea-mole. Skirting it, the “Zion” switched off and lay wallowing in the shadow of the tall ruined structure, waiting for contact. In the silence they could hear the faint exclamations of the prophet below decks and the sound of their own anxious breathing. All was still.

Then a light blinked and the “Zion” answered with a pocket torch. A long silence and then came the sound of cars, and a boat pulled in alongside with a dark figure in it. Isaac whispered something and chuckled. “You are on time, at least,” said a gruff voice approvingly. Reassured, the crew began to talk in normal tones again.

“First a stretcher-case,” said Isaac, and the boatman grunted. “Less bloody noise!” he said angrily, and their voices dropped once more. “The ‘Roach’ has been patrolling all evening; and she may be back soon. So cut out the talk and act.”

While two of the crew fetched up the feverish prophet and lowered him into the boat, others threw open the hatches and began lowering their freight overboard into the dark water. The “agricultural machinery” in its glistening slip cases of water-proof plastic slid easily and elegantly into two fathoms of water. Floats were set to mark the spot.

The boatman had vanished into the darkness with his stretcher load, promising to come back for the girl. All was purposeful disorder and confusion as the holds were emptied of their contents. In fact, things were going so well that Isaac allowed himself to chuckle and rub his hands; he went below to find the girl already awake and sitting on her bunk with her haversack slung.

“Everything is going like clockwork,” he said, and even as he uttered the ill-omened words he heard a warning whistle from the shore and the scudding of feet about the decks. He climbed back on deck, motioning her to follow. Nadeb had already cried “Look!” and was pointing eastward to the two long pencils of searchlight which moved towards them on the dark coast, gracefully swinging this way and that like the antennae of an insect as they explored the coves and reaches of the indented land. Isaac permitted himself a couple of dreadful swear-words. “It’s the ‘Roach’, ” he said, almost biting through his pipe-stem with vexation.

“The stuff’s all overboard, Skipper,” said Nadeb, jumping about like a cat on hot bricks. “We can’t be caught here now!” Isaac knew this only too well. He roared “Engine-room!” and, turning to the girl, said: “I’m sorry — you’ll have to go overboard. There’s no time to lose. Nadeb will take you.”

“Zion” began to throb and stagger. It all happened so fast that there was no time to exchange a word or a thought. As the two pencils of searchlight strayed slowly, purposefully, towards them, she felt herself lifted and lowered over the side by Isaac’s strong arms. Nadeb climbed down beside her. The sea came up in a smooth cold sheath under her armpits, making her shudder. “It’s only fifty yards,” said Nadeb in a whisper. “Put a hand on my shoulder. Mind — not a ripple, not a splash!” She did as she was told and, as the “Zion” drew away, the boom of her screw threw up foam onto her face, blinding her. With eyes shut she lay and felt the strong shoulders of Nadeb beginning to work, dragging her. “Zion” had been swallowed in the darkness. After what seemed an eternity, she felt sand under her feet and then pebbles. They lay in the shallows for a while, getting their breath; then Nadeb stood up and dragged her unceremoniously to her feet. They reached the shadow of a lemon grove before the searchlights arrived to light up the deserted fort.

The girl shook herself like a wet dog. They stood thus in the shadows of the trees and watched the chalky light of the patrol-boat’s searchlights throw everything into relief — the medieval fort, the mole and the wooded shores of the cove. Every leaf on the trees stood out with sudden incandescence as the beam swept over them and away again. The engines of the boat made hardly any noise as they carried her towards them. She felt the light on her and was tempted to turn back into the thickets around, but Nadeb said: “Stand quite still.” They stood thus intently; she could hear the water dripping from her. After a slow and methodical exploration of the beach, and of the three or four deserted fishing-boats anchored in the cove, the “Roach” turned north again and increased speed. Nadeb grunted with pleasure. “They’ve missed the float,” he said. Adding with a chuckle, “They will catch ‘Zion’ up in half an hour and search her. Good!” In his mind’s eye he could doubtless see Isaac’s expression of innocent outrage as the boarding-party tackled him.

A figure had detached itself from the shadows and approached while they stood watching: the girl jumped as she felt a hand on her arm. The voice of a woman, low and composed, said, “Are you Judith Roth? I think you must be?”

“Yes.”

“Take my hand. It is not far.” The girl felt a warm strong hand in hers, and allowed herself to be led away into the dense shadow of the grove among the trees. She was tempted at first to feel alarmed, but finally resignation overcame her: for so long now she had been handed like this from person to anonymous person, like a parcel. But at least for the first time she appeared to be expected. They knew her name, she told herself, smiling. It was like being recognized by long-lost friends. They waited in a ditch while a long convoy of lorries rushed past, their headlights lighting up the tall trees beside the road and throwing up a plume of acrid dust. And here Nadeb took his departure. “Goodbye,” he said, shaking her hand, and added as a surprising afterthought: “Welcome to Palestine!” Before she could thank him he had dematerialized and been swallowed up by the darkness.