When he came down to the big drawing room he found Euan there, and that, contrary to his custom, the Ambassador was also present, although there were still at least ten minutes to go before the first guests were due to arrive. Moreover Robbie did not even have to open the subject, for Sir Finsterhorn said at once:
'What is this I hear, Robbie, of your having advertised io yesterday's Kathimerini for a chauffeur-secretary?'
Normally, called to book as he felt sure he was about to be, Robbie would have hesitated and floundered; but he was amazed to find that since lunch he had acquired a new confidence in himself. Looking his uncle straight in the eye, he replied:
That's right, sir. I decided that it would be a pity to leave Greece without seeing some of the most famous temples; so I've hired a car and a chauffeur to take me on a tour of the Peloponnesus.'
To his surprise, Sir Finsterhorn nodded quite amicably. That's a good idea. You should be able to pick up some useful local colour for your book; er . . . that is, if you mean to go on with it.'
'Oh yes. More than half of it is written now, and I hope anyway to get the rest of it roughed out while I'm on this trip.'
For some minutes they talked of the most important places for him to visit and Euan, his professional interest as an archaeologist aroused, for once showed no malice. He even offered to get out a list of things at each place that should not be missed and, when he learned that Robbie intended to leave at ten o'clock next morning, promised to have it ready by then.
That evening, Robbie found himself quite exceptionally loquacious. The hours passed quickly for him and, when he went up to bed, he gave his mind over to happy dreams. But he woke early, and was suddenly taken with a fit of the jitters. All that had happened to him in the past eighteen hours seemed too good to be true. Reconsidered in the light of early morning, could Stephanie's story really hold water? Surely, in these days, parents did not still force girls of twenty-four into marriages repugnant to them, and threaten to throw them on the streets if they refused to obey? Perhaps the whole thing was a cruel hoax and she had been laughing at him all the time.
But why should a strange young woman, who could not possibly have anything against him, use her abilities as an actress to make him look a fool? There could be a reason, though. Someone who had seen his advertisement, and knew what a simple-minded chap he was, might have put her up to it. It was possible that they had induced her to do it by offering her a big bet with long odds in her favour if she could afterwards say that she had landed the job.
Suddenly, he thought of Euan. It was strange that the previous evening Euan had not made a single reference to his taking a girl out to lunch. For once, he could not have been nicer, and surely that must have sinister implications? Euan knew so many people in Athens. It might well be that he knew Stephanie, and that it was he who had put her up to this. If so, and she failed to turn up, Euan would be on hand to witness the outcome of his joke, so that he could laugh with his friends afterwards while describing Robbie's bitter disappointment. That would be the final humiliation.
Miserable and worried almost silly, Robbie got up, did his final packing and went down to breakfast. Sir Finsterhorn was in a pleasant mood and Euan gave the impression of being in unusually high spirits; a fact that Robbie registered with a sinking feeling that it confirmed his worst fears. Yet it was now impossible for him not to go through with the drill to which he had committed himself.
After breakfast he took leave of his uncle, and thanked him with the best words he could find for having had him to stay at the Embassy for so long, adding that he would write his gratitude to Lady Grenn for all her kindness to him. He then made the round of the house to say good-bye to the staff, and was deeply touched by the regrets they expressed that he should be leaving.
At a quarter to ten, Loadham brought his suitcases down to the hall. Opening the front door, Robbie stood on the threshold, still desperately hoping, yet hardly daring to accept the possibility that Stephanie might drive up and carry him away. The next ten minutes were an agony. Then, at five to ten, his heart gave a bound. The car that he had selected—which he later learned was a Ford Zephyr—came hurtling into the semi-circular drive. With admirable precision the brakes were applied, bringing it to a halt opposite the door. Stephanie, now bareheaded and dressed in a neat tweed suit, was driving it.
With a glowing face, Robbie ran forward to greet her. Calling to Loadham to stow his bags in the boot, he walked quickly back into the hall to collect his raincoat. At that moment, Euan appeared. Thrusting a big envelope into Robbie's hand, he said:
'Don't go without this. It's the list of things you must not miss.' Then his glance lit on the car outside and in it the finely chiselled profile crowned by chestnut curls of the girl sitting at the wheel.
His mouth dropped open, and he swung round on Robbie. 'I say! So that's your chauffeuse-secretary! Well, I'll be damned! You secretive old devil. I'd never have thought in a thousand years that you would get hold of a peach like her to drive you round Greece.'
Robbie's smile was seraphic. This was unalloyed triumph. Yet he might well have hesitated to get into the Ford, could he have foreseen the end that the gods had decreed for it.
12
Making Hay while the Sun Shines
Robbie was still blissfully savouring the cloud of glory in which he had departed, when he was roused from it by Stephanie's asking: 'Do you want to get to Patras for lunch?'
On the previous day he had told her that the big port on the Ionian Sea was the first place at which he wished to make a stay. However, he had not even hinted at his real reason for this, and the Bratislava, with the groups of Czechs on board, was not due to dock there till Monday. So he replied: 'Oh no! I doubt if we could, anyway. It must be well over two hundred kilometres.'
'We could if I step on it,' she assured him. 'Your garage has done you jolly well with this car. She goes like a bird.'
'Splendid. I felt sure they would. The chaps there are always awfully nice to me. But there's no hurry about getting to Patras. I thought we would take it easy, and lunch at Corinth.'
Her next question was: 'What make of typewriter is yours?'
'Oh dear!' he exclaimed ruefully. 'I hadn't thought of that. I can't type, so I haven't got one.'
She slowed down the car. 'Well; I can't type your manuscript without a machine, can I? If you want me to, we had better get hold of one before we leave Athens. They are expensive things to buy, but I think I know a place where you could hire one.'
He agreed at once, so she turned the car in the direction of Omonias Square—the Oxford Circus of Athens—and, in a street just off it, selected a portable with Roman lettering that seemed to have seen little service. As Robbie could now give no permanent address, he had to buy it outright; but he had plenty of money on him, and could obtain more at Patras. They then had to make a call at a stationer's, to buy typing paper, carbons and ribbons; so it was well past eleven o'clock before, having bypassed the Piraeus, they came out on to the famous coast road which, for over two thousand years, has been known as the 'Sacred Way'.
Soon they reached Daphni with its ancient convent among tall, candle-like cypress trees, and the little church with the gold mosaics that make it one of the great gems of Byzantine architecture. After another few kilometres, they had a splendid view on their left of the island of Salamis and the blue, almost landlocked bay that separated it from the mainland. Many centuries before, at some spot on the road they were now travelling, the mighty Persian King of Kings must have sat for a whole day, his confident hopes gradually turning to fear and despair, as he watched the much smaller Athenian Fleet destroying his mighty Armada—a victory that, by saving Greece from Asiatic domination, changed the whole history of the world.