Then we were on dry land. I glanced over the water to the Lady of the Seas, and I thought how majestic she looked, but Jimmy and Timothy were impatient to be off and we followed in their wake. After a time we came upon a market. The cobbled streets were narrow and lined with shops, like caves, with stalls in front of them. There was a great deal of noise, for everyone seemed to be shouting excitedly. Many of the men wore long robes and turbans which looked very exotic.
Everything was different from anything I had seen before. We listened to the people chattering at the stalls. They appeared to be bargaining, but, of course, we could not understand what was said; they seemed to be very fierce and at times looked as though they were about to strike each other. Then the bargain would be concluded, which must have been satisfactory for they smiled benignly on each other and in one case kissed.
The boys had paused by a stall on which were a variety of necklaces, rings and bracelets. This was because of the two dusky girls there who had called to them. The girls had long black hair and laughing black eyes; earrings hung from their ears and necklaces round their necks -all similar to those displayed on the stall. Then one of them threw a necklace round Jimmy’s neck. He looked embarrassed and the girls appeared to think it a great joke.
“Nice, nice,” said one of them.
“You buy?”
The boys laughed and the girls giggled.
A necklace was thrown round Timothy’s neck by the other girl.
The boys clearly did not know what to do, which by no means displeased Gertie and me, who were amused to witness their discomfiture. The girl who had put the neck lace round Jimmy’s neck started to pull the necklace slowly towards her, and with it Jimmy.
“You come,” she said.
Then the other girl drew Timothy towards her in the same way.
“This is getting silly,” said Gertie to me.
“Let’s go and look at those leather things on that stall over there.”
We moved over to the one indicated by Gertie. Among the goods were wallets in different-coloured soft leather with a pattern in gold embossed on them.
“It’s my father’s birthday next week,” said Gertie.
“I might buy one of those for him.” She picked up one and the salesman was immediately beside her.
“You like? Very nice.”
“How much?” said Gertie in the grown-up voice she often assumed.
“You tell me … what you pay?”
“I have no idea,” said Gertie.
“Tell me what you are asking.”
The man picked up a writing pad and scribbled a figure on it.
“I haven’t enough,” said Gertie and, turning to me: “Let’s go.”
She put down the wallet and attempted to move away, but the salesman held her by the arm.
“How much? How much?”
His hands were on the little bag she carried.
“How much? How much?” he kept saying.
We were both wishing heartily that we had not become involved in this, and I was sure the wallet was becoming less and less attractive in Gertie’s eyes.
But the salesman had a firm grasp on her arm and would not release her. He looked lovingly at the wallet and then turned his tragic gaze on us, as though to imply that the sale was of the utmost importance to him. He must have noticed that he aroused our interest and compassion, for he went on: “Poor man. Me very poor man.”
He released Gertie momentarily and held his arms as though he were rocking a baby. Then he held up eight fingers.
“Babies,” he said.
“Starving …”
Gertie and I exchanged glances. She shrugged her shoulders and took all the money from her purse. The man smiled, took the money and wrapped up the wallet.
We had freed ourselves and I was not quite sure whether it was done out of compassion or the need to escape from this embarrassing transaction.
We saw then that, while this had been going on, the boys had disappeared. So had the girls with the necklaces.
“Never mind,” said Gertie.
“We’ll be better on our own. They didn’t want us and we didn’t want them.”
We went along the narrow street, glancing sideways at the stalls, determined not to get involved in any more bargaining.
There was a maze of streets, one very like another, and we must have wandered for half an hour before we emerged from them.
We had thought we would come out at the point where we had come in and then we would have known our way back to the launch; but the scene was quite different.
Gertie looked at the watch which she wore pinned to the bodice of her dress. It was half past two.
“Let’s get one of those little donkey carts to take us back to the ship,” she said.
“Don’t you think the boys will be looking for us?”
“No. They’ll be glad to be rid of us. Besides, we’ll show them we don’t need them. Look, there’s one.”
We hailed it. The driver a boy who could not have been more than fourteen years old came up to us.
“We want to go back to the launch which takes us to our ship, the Lady of the Seas. Do you know?”
The boy nodded vigorously.
“I know. I know. You come.”
We climbed into the carriage, which was a sort of cart. We were sorry for the two little donkeys who were going to pull us along. They looked pathetically frail, but we were soon laughing and clinging together in our glee, for it was not the smoothest of rides. It seemed long and, after a while we were soon waiting rather impatiently for a glimpse of the sea.
Gertie called to the driver.
“We should be there now. Why don’t we see the sea?”
“Sea here,” cried the boy, waving his whip vaguely, but we could not see any sign of it.
What followed was like a nightmare. I dreamed of it for a long time afterwards. The vehicle was brought to a standstill and we clambered out.
“Where are we?” cried Gertie.
“This sea,” was the reply.
“Ship here.”
“I can’t see them,” we said.
“Here. You pay.”
“But you haven’t taken us there,” wailed Gertie in exasperation.
“No,” I agreed.
“This isn’t the right place.”
I was beginning to feel nervous. We had been caught once over the wallet. It was just about three o’clock and the last launch left at three-thirty.
Gertie clearly was thinking the same.
“You must take us there at once,” she said.
The young boy nodded.
“You pay,” he said.
“But you haven’t taken us there. We will pay when you do.”
“You pay. You pay.”
“What for?” cried Gertie indignantly.
“We didn’t ask to come here,” I added.
“You must take us to the launch.”
We had very little money. Gertie had lost all hers to the wallet salesman, and there was only what I had, which I knew was not a great deal. But we had to get back to the launch which would take us to the ship.
I tried to explain. I opened my purse.
I said: “All this is yours if you take us back to the launch.”
He looked contemptuously at the money.
Then he nodded.
“You pay. I take.”
He took all the money and, still nodding, he turned and leaped into the driver’s seat and drove off.
We looked at each other in dismay. We were far from the ship, without money, bewildered and more and more alarmed with every passing moment.
The awful realization came to us. We were alone in an alien country.
The people were unfamiliar: recent experiences had taught us that we must be wary; it was difficult to communicate with them, for we did not speak their language. We were helpless, numb with fear, too scared to think clearly, and we were old enough to guess a little of the horrors which might befall us, but not old enough to have a notion of how we could cope with the situation.