'I'm not ready for this,' he thought. 'It's too big, I can't take it, I shan't be able to explain what it means, not even to this small handful of people who are with me. I ought to have stayed in the hotel reading up my notes and studying the map so as to be able to speak with some sort of authority tomorrow. Or, better still, have come here on my own.'
It was wrong of him, uncharitable, but the perpetual chatter of the Colonel at his side got on his nerves, made him edgy, irritable. Who cared what his regiment had been doing in '48? It was out of keeping with the scene spread out before them.
'And so,' the Colonel was saying, 'the Mandate was handed over to the U.N. in May, and we were all out of the country by July 1st. To my mind we should have stayed. The whole thing has been a bloody nonsense ever since. No one will ever settle down in this part of the world, and they'll still be fighting over Jerusalem when you and I have been in our graves for years. Beautiful spot, you know, from this distance. Used to be pretty scruffy inside the Old City.'
The pine trees to their right were motionless. Everything was still. To their left the hillside appeared bare, uncultivated, but Babcock could be mistaken: moonlight was deceptive, those white shapes that seemed to be rocks and boulders could be tombs. Once there would have been no sombre pines, no cypresses, no Russian cathedral, only the olive trees with silver branches sweeping the stony ground, and the sound of the brook trickling through the valley below.
'Funny thing,' said the Colonel, 'I never did any proper soldiering once I left this place behind me. Served for a time back home, at Aldershot, but what with reorganisation in the army, and one thing and another, and my wife wasn't too fit at the time, I decided to pack it in and quit. I should have been given command of my regiment if I had stayed, and gone to Germany, but Althea was all against it, and it didn't seem fair to her. Her father left her the Hall, you know, in Little Bletford. She had been brought up there, and her life was centred in it. Still is, in fact. She does a great deal locally.'
Edward Babcock made an effort to attend, to show some sign of interest. 'You regret leaving the army?'
The Colonel did not answer immediately, but when he did the usual tone of brisk self-confidence had gone; he sounded puzzled, strained.
'It was my whole life,' he said. 'And that's another funny thing, padre-I don't think I've ever realised it before tonight. Just standing here, looking at that city across the valley, makes me remember.'
Something moved in the shadows below. It was Robin. He had been crouching against the wall. He had a map in his hand and a small torch.
'Look, Mr Babcock,' he said, 'that's where they must have come, from the gate in the wall over to the left. We can't see it from here, but it's marked on the map. Jesus and his disciples, I mean, after they had had their supper. And the gardens and trees were probably all up this hill then, not just down at the bottom where the church stands today. In fact, if we go on a bit further and sit down by that wall, we can picture the whole thing. The soldiers and the high priests' attendants coming down with flares from the other gate, perhaps where that car is showing now. Come on!'
He began running down the hill in front of them, flicking his small torch to and fro, until he disappeared round a turn of the wall.
'Watch your step, Robin,' called his grandfather. 'You might fall. It's jolly steep down there.' Then he turned to his companion. 'He can read a map as well as I can myself. Only nine years old.'
'I'll go after him,' said Babcock. 'See he doesn't get into trouble. You wait here for Lady Althea.'
'You needn't worry, padre,' replied the Colonel. 'The boy knows what he's doing.'
Babcock pretended not to hear. It was an excuse to be alone, if only for a few minutes, otherwise the scene beneath him would never make the deep impression he desired, so that he could describe it later to all the lads, when he returned to Huddersfield.
Colonel Mason remained motionless beside the wall. The slow, careful footsteps of his wife and Miss Dean descending the path behind him were only a short distance away, and Althea's voice carried on the still cold air.
'If we don't see them we'll turn back,' she was saying, but I know what Phil can be like when he's in charge of an expedition. He always thinks he knows the way, and only too often he doesn't at all.'
'I can hardly credit that,' said Miss Dean, 'as a military man.'
Lady Althea laughed. 'Dear Phil,' she said. 'He likes everyone to think he might have become a general. But the truth is, Miss Dean, he would never have made the grade. I had it on the highest authority from one of his brother officers. Oh, they were all fond of him, but the dear old boy would never have gone any further, not in the army as it is today. That's why we all persuaded him to retire when he did. I sometimes wish he would be just a little more active where local affairs are concerned, but there it is, I have to act for us both. And he has done wonders in the garden.'
'That lovely herbacous border!' said Miss Dean.
'Yes, and the rock plants too. They make quite a show the whole year through.'
The slow footsteps passed without stopping, neither woman looking to right or left, so intent were they upon the rough path under their feet. For one moment their two figures were sharply outlined against the trees beyond, then they turned the corner as Robin had done, and Babcock, and disappeared.
Colonel Mason let them go without calling them back. Then he turned up the collar of his coat, for it seemed suddenly colder, and began to retrace his steps slowly towards the hotel above. He had nearly made the ascent when he bumped into two other members of the party coming down.
'Hullo,' said Jim Foster, 'you crying off already? I thought you'd be in Jerusalem by now!'
'Turned very cold,' said the Colonel shortly. 'Not much sense in stumping on down to the bottom. You'll find the others scattered about the hillside.'
He climbed on past them towards the hotel with a hasty goodnight.
'Now, if he runs into my wife up there and tells her you and I are together we shall be in trouble,' said Jim Foster. 'Willing to risk it?'
'Risk what?' asked Jill Smith. 'We're not doing anything.'
'Now that, my girl, is what I call a direct invitation. Never mind, Kate can console your husband in the bar. Watch your step, this path is steep. The slippery slope to ruin for the pair of us. Don't leave go of my arm.'
Jill threw off her head-scarf and drew a deep breath, clinging tightly to her companion.
'Look at all the city lights,' she said. 'I bet there's plenty going on up there. Makes me feel envious. We seem to be stuck at the back of beyond up here.'
'Don't worry. You'll see it all tomorrow, led by his reverence.
But I doubt if he'll take you into a discotheque, if that's what you're after.'
'Well, naturally we must see the historical part first-that's why we're here, isn't it? But I want to go to the shopping centre too.'
'Suks, my girl, suks. Lot of little trinket-booths in back alleys with dark-eyed young salesmen trying to pinch your bottom.'
'Oh, you think I'd let them, do you?'
'I don't know. But I wouldn't blame them for trying.'
He glanced back over his shoulder. No sign of Kate. Perhaps she had decided against joining the expedition after all. The last he had seen of her was the back of her figure making for the lift en route for their room. As for Bob Smith, if he couldn't keep an eye on his bride that was his lookout. The clump of trees on the other side of the wall further down the path looked enticing. Just the right spot for a little harmless fun.