The Magus - John Fowles [237]
cisterns; could all be reached in a day from Monemvasia. I went over the causeway through the gusty wind to the little mainland hamlet, which was where the steamer called. I had a bad meal in a taverna there, and a shave in the kitchen--yes, I was a tourist--and questioned the cook-waiter. He knew no more than the other man. Pitching and rolling, the little steamer, made late by the _meltemi_, came at midnight; like a deep-sea monster, festooned with glaucous strings of pearly light. I and two other passengers were rowed out to her. I sat for a couple of hours in the deserted saloon, fighting off seasickness and the persistent attempts to start a conversation made by an Athenian greengrocer who had been to Monemvasia to buy tomatoes. He grumbled on and on about prices. Always in Greece conversation turns to money; _not_ politics, or politics only because it is connected with money. In the end the seasickness wore off and I came to like the greengrocer. He and his mound of newspaperwrapped parcels were referable and locateable; totally of the world into which I had returned; though for days I was to stare suspiciously at every stranger who crossed my path. When we came near the island I went out on deck. The black whale loomed out of the windy darkness. I could make out the cape of Bourani, though the house was invisible, and of course there were no lights. On the foredeck, where I was standing, there were a dozen or so slumped figures, poor peasants travelling steerage. The mystery of other human lives: I wondered how much Conchis's masque had cost; fifty times more, probably, than one of these men earned in a year's hard work. So had cost their lifetime. De Deukans. Millet. Hoeing turnips. Beside me was a family, a husband with his back turned, his head on a sack, two small boys sandwiched for warmth between him and his wife. A thin blanket lay over them. The wife had a white scarf tied in a mediaeval way, tight round her chin. Joseph and Mary; one of her hands rested on the shoulder of the child in front. I fumbled in my pockets; there was still seven or eight pounds left of the money that had been given me. I looked round, then swiftly stooped and put the little wad of notes in a fold of the blanket behind the woman's head; then furtively left, as if I had done something shameful. At a quarter to three I was silently climbing the dark stairs in the masters' wing. My room was tidy, all in order. The only thing that had changed was that the pile of examination papers were no longer there. In their place were several letters. The first one I opened I did because I couldn't think who would be writing to me from Italy. _Monastery of Sacro Speco,_ _Near Subiaco_ _July 14th_ _DEAR MR. URFE,_ _Your letter has been forwarded to me. I at first decided not to reply to it, but on reflection I think it is fairer to you if I write to say that I am not prepared to discuss the matter that you wish me to discuss. My decision on this is final._ _I should greatly appreciate it if you would not renew your request in any way._ _Yours sincerely,_ _JOHN LEVERRIER_ The writing was impeccably neat and legible, though rather crabbed into the centre of the page; I saw a neat, crabbed man behind it. Presumably on some sort of retreat, one of those desiccated young Catholics that used to mince about Oxford when I was an undergraduate, twittering about Monsignor Knox and Farm Street. I damned him for being so useless. The next letter was from London, from someone who purported to be a headmistress, on nicely authentic headed notepaper. _Miss Julie Holmes_ _Miss Holmes was with us only for one year, in which she taught the classics and also some English and Scripture to our lower forms. She promised to develop into a good teacher, was most reliable and conscientious and also popular with her pupils._ _I understood that she was embarking upon a stage career, but I am very pleased to hear that she is returning to teaching._ _I should add that she was a very successful producer of our annual play, and also took a leading part in our Young Christians school