Nobody talked as we drove back to the villa. The only human sound was the crying of the little fellow Hilda was nursing. He seemed to have sensed that something was wrong. He didn’t stop crying till we reached the villa. We got Max on to the couch in the room to the left of the door. It was queer going into that room again. It looked cold and unlived in in that queer half-light. Roberto’s body still lay in a heap on the floor and there were unwashed glasses and ashtrays. By the time we’d got Tucek and Lemlin upstairs to bed, Hilda had found water and was busy cleaning Maxwell up.
‘Let me do that,’ I said. ‘You get upstairs and see to your father.’
She shook her head. ‘My father is all right. He is only drugged.’
‘Better for him if he stay drugged,’ Zina said. ‘Better for us all if we have drugs.’ She stared down at Maxwell. Hilda had cleaned the dirt off his face. The skin was very white and the lower lip horribly bitten through. ‘You want some morfina?’
Hilda glanced up. ‘Morphia?’
‘Si, si. Morphia. I think I know where it is.’
Hilda looked down again at Max and then nodded. ‘I think it might help — later when he becomes conscious again.’
Zina went out. ‘Well, what do we do now?’ Reece asked.
‘Clean up, I guess,’ Hacket said. ‘We’ll feel better when we’ve got rid of some of this ash.’
‘But there must be something we can do. There’s a telephone here, isn’t there?’
‘I wouldn’t be surprised. But what good is that? You can’t just ring for a taxi.’
‘No, but I could ring Pomigliano. There’s just a chance a plane could land here. There’s a flat stretch beside the road leading up to the villa.’
‘It’s a chance,’ Hacket murmured. ‘But I don’t see any pilot risking being caught up in the mess we’re in.’
‘Well, I’ll have a try.’
We followed him out to the hall. The telephone stood on a wall-bracket and we watched him as he lifted the receiver. For a moment we were buoyed up by the sudden possibility of hope. Then he began to joggle the contact up and down and hope receded. At length he put the receiver back on the rest. ‘No good. It’s probably an overhead line.’
‘It’d be the same if it were underground,’ Hacket said heavily. ‘The heat would simply melt the wires. Well, I’m going to get cleaned up.’
Through the open door I saw George standing forlornly in the shafts of the broken cart. They’d all forgotten about him. I went out and he whinnied at me. I stood there for a moment in the blazing twilight, rubbing the mule’s velvet muzzle. It’d be nice I thought not to know what was going to happen. I unhooked the traces and took him round to the outhouses where he’d have some shelter if more stones began to fall. I left him with the basket of asparagus and went back into the villa for a drink.
Hilda was alone in the room with Maxwell. Someone had removed the dead body of Roberto. ‘How is he?’ I asked.
‘He became conscious for a moment. He try to tell me something. Then he fainted again. I think he is in great pain.’
Maxwell’s face was very white and blood was dripping on to the floor. ‘Can’t you stop the bleeding?’ I asked her.
She shook her head. ‘The leg is terribly torn right up to the thigh.’
I turned away to the drink table and poured her a cognac. ‘Drink that,’ I said. ‘You look as though you could do with it.’
She took the glass. ‘Thank you. I am so afraid I have fixed the leg wrong. I have no experience of setting legs and he is in terrible pain.’
‘Well, it’s not your fault,’ I told her and poured myself a drink. I was thinking it didn’t matter very much. The lava would come and that would be the end of it. We could fill him up with drugs. He’d be lucky then. He wouldn’t know much about it. I knocked back the cognac and poured another. The best thing would be to get drunk. I took the bottle and filled Hilda’s glass. She tried to stop me, but I said, ‘Don’t be a fool. Drink it. Things won’t matter so much if you keep drinking.’
‘Isn’t there a chance—’ She didn’t finish but knelt there staring up at me with her large grey eyes.
I shook my head. ‘None. The lava might stop, but I don’t think so.’
‘If only we could get a doctor.’
‘A doctor?’
‘Yes. I would feel so much happier if I knew he was as comfortable as he could be.’
I knocked back the rest of the drink. I was beginning to feel fine now. ‘You want a doctor?’ I felt a gurgle of laughter welling up inside me. It would be so damned ironical. ‘Would it really make you feel happier if you had a doctor?’
‘Yes, but—’
‘All right. I’ll get you a doctor.’ I poured myself another drink, knocked it straight back and then I turned to the door. ‘I’ll get you one of the best surgeons in the country.’
‘I don’t understand. Where are you going, Dick?’
‘I’m going to find Dr. Sansevino.’
‘No. Please.’
‘Do you want a doctor or don’t you?’ I asked her.
She hesitated.
‘Sansevino’s a damn’ good surgeon. I should know.’
‘Please, Dick — don’t be bitter. I would rather anything than that.’ Then as she realised that I was waiting for the answer to my question, she nodded. ‘Yes. Get him if you can.’
I got George out of the outhouse, clambered on to his back and we trotted off down the track to the road.I’d had nothing to eat that morning and I felt very light-headed. I think I sang part of the way. Then I reached the road and glanced along it towards Santo Francisco. The sight that met my eyes sobered me up. Santo Francisco was gone, all except a few houses on the outskirts. Where the village had been was nothing but a long wall of black lava. It seemed to be fanning out, filling the whole gap between the two streams that had swung down to join at Avin. I suddenly realised there wasn’t much point in getting Sansevino.
I think I might have turned back then. I needed another drink. I needed to keep myself drunk. But when I glanced towards Avin I saw the figure of a man trudging up the road towards me. I turned George and cantered towards him.
It was Sansevino all right. I pulled Zina’s little automatic out of my pocket. But I needn’t have bothered. The man was too shaken with fear to try any tricks, and he was literally glad to see me. I think he’d been coming to the villa anyway. He needed company. I remembered how I’d felt alone on that roof watching the lava steadily encroaching. It wasn’t nice to be alone while you’re waiting for the lava to reach you.
I hauled him up in front of me and we trotted back to the villa. As we turned off the road on to the track through the vineyards he said,’ Suppose I could show you a way to get out of here?’
‘How do you mean?’ I asked.
‘I will make a bargain with you. If I tell you how we may be able to get away, will you all give me your word of honour as gentlemen that you will not say anything of what has happened?’
‘I don’t bargain with people like you,’ I snapped. ‘If you know a way out you’ll tell us to save your own miserable hide.’
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Later perhaps, when the lava is close, we make a deal.’
He had no trace of American accent now. He had dropped the personality of Shirer entirely. He was an Italian speaking English.
I didn’t even bother to question him about his proposition. I knew there was no way out.
‘Is Maxwell badly hurt?’ he asked.
‘Thanks to you — yes. One leg’s crushed.’
We had reached the villa now and I slid to the ground. I had the pistol ready and I was prepared to use it. I think he knew that, for he went straight into the villa. ‘Where is he?’
‘The room on the left,’ I told him.