The Laughter of Carthage Read Online Free PDF

British passports for myself and Esmé. The documents would be of no use for entering England itself, but would prove helpful in countries less familiar with the originals. I gave my name as Cornelius and supplied him with the necessary particulars, including photographs which I had prepared some time before. While I waited he made up the passports, peering through a gigantic magnifying glass as, in the light of a naphtha lamp and muttering admiringly at his own handiwork, he bent over an old, chemical-stained mahogany table.
     
    By the time I returned it was late afternoon. Esmé, evidently miserable, was utterly dishevelled. She was even more frightened than when I had left her. The Baroness had called quite early. Finding me gone, she had left a note. Esmé’s hand shook violently as she presented me with the envelope. Putting on a brave face, I comforted her. Everything was ready and all she was required to do was pack whatever she wished to take. At this, Esmé burst into floods of tears and the whole scene emerged. ‘She said I would be arrested. My parents will be arrested. You they will shoot!’
     
    Although privately furious with the woman for her cowardly terrorising of an innocent girl, I contained myself and merely shrugged. ‘She’s insane. Jealous.’ I opened the note. It proved without doubt her unstable mind. She wrote that she could have jumped too early to conclusions. She had thought over what I had said last night. Now she believed I had been led astray ‘by a little Turkish harlot’. Esmé was probably connected to the gang which had kidnapped me. If I got rid of the child at once it would probably save me and the Baroness would consider forgiving me, perhaps even go with me to Berlin, so simultaneously avoiding scandal and retribution. I must meet her in the restaurant at ten that evening when we could discuss what had to be done. I found this volte-face baffling, but decided it would do no harm to see her once more. By placating her for twenty-four hours I should certainly be able to make my escape without trouble from the authorities. I showed Esmé the note. She could not read the Russian. ‘It’s blackmail, of course. But I’ll go to see her and buy us time.’
     
    Esmé had made an effort to calm herself. ‘What shall I be doing, Maxim?’
     
    ‘As I said, you must get our things into trunks and cases. Tomorrow a car will pick us up. It’s all arranged.’ I hugged her. ‘You mustn’t worry. Be a brave little monkey. We are on our way to Venice. You’ve always wanted to go. From there we can reach Paris, if we like. And England. You’ll be quite safe, my darling. Those countries are truly civilised. Not like Turkey.’
     
    She was by no means convinced. Now our escape offered to become a reality, I think she grew nervous. She had known only Constantinople. In one way or another she could survive here. How would she fare abroad? I appreciated her anxieties. I had originally felt much the same about leaving Odessa, ‘It will be all right. We’ll be happy.’ I tried to cheer her up.
     
    ‘The Baroness has friends in those countries.’ She remained wary. ‘They will arrest us, Maxim.’
     
    ‘She has no power. That’s nonsense. Only here is she a little troublesome. She thinks she has more to threaten me with than is true. Someone like that is never much of a problem. We’ll be travelling as Maxim and Esmé Cornelius, British subjects. She won’t know that.’
     
    Again, Esmé attempted to pull herself together, though her mind was clearly not at ease. I laughed and kissed her. ‘Within a week we shall be strolling down the Champs Elysée together. You’ll have a new Parisian dress.’
     
    She said, ‘Perhaps it would be better to go to Athens first. Or Alexandria?’
     
    This amused me. ‘You really are a child of the ancient world. Is it so hard for you to relinquish it? We must think in terms of London and New York, my little one. You mustn’t be afraid. I