I walked on aimlessly, looking for a familiar landmark. What I felt I had to do was to see Madame Deltchev and tell her about Pashik before I went. In the confusion I had had the absurd idea that I might get my bag and typewriter from the hotel, be driven to the Deltchev house in a hotel car, and go straight on to the station from there. I knew now that that was out of the question. Even if I managed to find my way to the hotel and hire a car, the chance of getting anyone that day who was willing to drive to Yordan Deltchev’s house was small. And that made me realize something else. Unless I could get to the house before news of the assassination reached the sentries on the door, the chances were that I would not be allowed in. It was twenty to three now. Almost certainly the radio had shut down the moment the thing had happened. It would be at least an hour before any official statement was issued; but meanwhile the news and wild distortions of it would be spreading all over the city by word of mouth. I would have to be quick.
I hurried on. The sun was in my eyes. If I kept on walking west I must eventually come to the wall of the
Presidential Park. Then, if I followed the wall round, I must come eventually to the quarter in which the house was.
I got there, but it took me well over half an hour and toward the end I began to think that I must be too late. The atmosphere of the city was extraordinary. Just by looking along a street you could see that something serious had happened. People stood about in small groups on the pavements outside their houses, talking very quietly. I had guessed right about the radio being off. Not a sound came from the open windows of the apartment houses. There were armoured cars about, too, parked at road junctions or slowly cruising. Vukashin must have been ready to put a standard emergency control plan into operation the instant he got back into the Ministry. As I walked along in the hot sun, I began to see that I might have difficulty in leaving the city that night.
To my dismay, there were several groups of people standing about outside the Deltchev house, and as I drew nearer, I saw that there were extra guards on the door. I wondered if Vukashin yet knew that there was no Philip Deltchev to be arrested. The chances were that, with Vukashin unable to admit to any precise understanding of the situation, things at the palace were still confused. The people waiting here in the street must have heard fantastic rumours and gravitated to the Deltchev house simply because it was the nearest place with important political associations. I could even reflect brutally that, with Brankovitch dead, the worst thing that could happen to me here now was that I would be refused admittance. The same Corporal was there. He was looking more sullen than usual and anxious. That probably meant that he knew nothing.
I went up to him and he recognized me with a nod. I produced my papers. He glanced at them doubtfully and handed them back, but made no signal to let me through.
‘I don’t know, mein Herr,’ he said in German. ‘I must await orders.’
‘What orders?’
‘Something has happened.’
‘What?’
He shook his head uneasily. ‘There are many rumours.’
‘You mean the riot?’
He looked at me keenly. ‘You know what it is?’
‘There was a riot in the Square during the parade. The troops had to fire.’
‘A riot? You are sure it is nothing more?’
‘It was very serious, I heard. Many were killed.’
‘But a riot?’ he insisted.
‘But of course. I was told by an officer ten minutes ago.’
‘An officer told you?’
‘Yes. I have said…’
He sighed impatiently. ‘These sheep!’ he exclaimed, nodding toward the waiting people. ‘These silly sheep, with their gossip! They tell me the Agrarian Socialists have attempted a coup and that a revolution has broken out. Sheep!’ He spat and then grinned. ‘A riot, you say. I know a way with rioters.’
I grinned back. He nodded to one of the sentries. The bell pealed and after a bit came the familiar sound of Rana’s sandals in the courtyard. I felt the eyes of the street upon me as I went in.
There was the same smell of furniture polish and the same slippery floors. There was the same room, and she rose from the same chair to greet me. There were the same gentle, intelligent eyes below the same broad forehead and there was the same polite smile. And yet for me nothing was the same; I saw her now in a different context.
The smile went out. ‘Herr Foster,’ she said quickly, ‘I am so glad you have come. What has happened? Something has. Rana says that there are people waiting outside in front of the house and additional guards. I don’t understand it.’
I did not answer for a moment. Then I said, ‘If you are asking me whether Aleko has succeeded, the answer is yes.’
‘Aleko?’
‘I have a train to catch, madame. Perhaps it will save time if I tell you that Pashik and I have talked very frankly to each other and that at this moment, and because it has been difficult for Pashik to keep you fully informed, I know a great deal more about the affair than you do. I came to tell you what you don’t already know.’
She stared at me and then very calmly sat down. ‘I see. You are a messenger from Pashik.’
‘No. Pashik doesn’t know I’m here.’
‘Where is he? With my son?’
‘Your son is in Athens. Pashik is in the city somewhere.’
‘You tell me Vukashin is dead. You saw it happen?’
‘I did not say Vukashin was dead, madame. I said that Aleko had succeeded. Brankovitch was assassinated just about an hour ago.’
‘Brankovitch?’ Her hands came down on the wooden arms of the chair with a violence that would have been painful if she had been able to feel pain at that moment.
‘Yes, Brankovitch.’
‘You saw it yourself?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well? Go on.’
I went on. It was difficult, for she kept interrupting with questions to not all of which I knew the answers. I said nothing of Katerina’s visit. There was no reason to do so. She probably knew of it anyway. When I had finished, she sat back slowly and shut her eyes. Her face was very smooth and beautiful.
‘I am leaving for Athens on the five-o’clock train. That’s if they’ll let me out, of course. I’ll see Philip tomorrow. His signed statement and mine will be in New York, Paris, and London by Tuesday at the latest. That will give Vukashin two days to make a fool of himself. After that he hasn’t got a chance.’
Slowly she opened her eyes. ‘My dear Herr Foster,’ she said wearily, ‘do you suppose that you can defeat men like Vukashin with external propaganda? The conception is naive.’
‘I rather thought it was yours.’
‘Mine?’ She stood up angrily. ‘Pashik’s, perhaps. Not mine. Don’t you understand? They have defeated us.’
‘Then you were defeated anyway.’
She shook her head. ‘No. You see, Herr Foster, we could have come to terms with Brankovitch. He would have needed the Agrarian Socialists. He would have thought he was using them.’
‘And your husband?’
She looked vague. ‘Agreement could have been reached about that. An acquittal and then temporary retirement.’
In a very short space of time a lot of things went through my mind. Above them all, however, was the memory of my own voice asking if it were not dangerous to deny the street, and of the reply, the beautiful, saintly reply, ‘For my children, yes. For me, no, for I shall not try to impose my private world upon the real.’