Authors, English -- 20th century -- Biography; Waugh, Alec, 1898-1981
“It was out East,” he said, “but I won’t tell you where; and there was
trouble, I won’t tell you what. It never got into the papers, and it has
nothing to do with the story. I was a fairly senior subaltern at that
time, and with half a company I was guarding the mouth of a small river.
Our chief job was to see that no boats passed up it unsearched. It was a
fairly lazy job; not very much anxiety, and there was a jolly little
town three miles down the river, where I used to go in the evenings for
a drink and a smoke. It was here that I met one evening one of those
Europeans who have lived so long in the East as to have lost their
nationality. His face and hands were brown, and he had not shaved for at
least thirty-six hours. He looked dirty, and was without self-respect.
“We talked for a little while about indifferent things, and all the time
I felt him watching me closely with his crafty eyes. Then suddenly he
made a masonic sign. I replied. And he gave a sigh of relief.
“‘I had hoped so,’ he said, ‘but I was not certain; that makes
everything so very much more simple. Now I can say what I like, and it
will be a secret between us. You will not break your faith.’
“I nodded.
“He leant forward across the table, his face framed in his hands.
“‘You have seen a ship out to sea this morning?’
“‘Yes,’ I said.
“‘I am on that ship. I have some very important material that I wish to
get through to this village, and I cannot because of your outposts.’
“‘But we let all merchandise pass through after we have searched it.’
“‘You will not allow passage to what I bring?’
“‘Rifles?’
“‘Opium. I have many thousand pounds’ worth of opium upon that ship, and
I cannot get it through to the interior.’
“He expected me to show surprise, but I have played poker a good deal in
the mess, and have learnt not to let my face express emotion.
“‘Well,’ I said, ‘and what’s it got to do with me?’
“‘You can help me get it through.’
“‘Is that all you’ve got to say?’ and I prepared to rise.
“‘No, no,’ he said; ‘sit down. Don’t be a fool. Hear me out.’
“I looked straight at him for a moment.
“‘I shan’t do what you want me to.’
“‘If you will only listen.’
“‘I don’t know what’s to prevent me walking across the room to that
policeman, and having you arrested.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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