‘Well-’
‘And then, while the Child was capering about, or perhaps just lying there, she washed its clothes. I mean, that’s what they often do, you see them doing that today, then the child can put them on again. But then, do you know, when she wrung the clothes out, wherever the drops of water fell, balsam trees sprang out of the earth! So you see, in fact there is a connection between the Virgin Tree and the balsam-’
‘I think that point may be disputed.’
‘The lawyers may well make a meal of it, I know, but symbolically-’
‘Yes. Well. I’m sure. And you say’-grasping at straws-‘that this has come formally from the French Consulate?’
‘Direct from the Ministry in Paris, they said.’
‘Ah, well, then,’ said Owen. ‘I’m afraid I shall have to refer this to our own Consulate.’
Back came the answer, sooner than he had wished.
‘We’ve referred it to our lawyers,’ said Paul.
‘Great!’
‘They’ve warned us that it could take some time.’
‘Marvellous!’
‘However, they have suggested that you put a guard on the Tree.’
‘How long for?’
‘Until the issue is resolved.’
‘How long could that be?’
‘Ten years.’
‘No, the British are not seizing your property. The guard is there merely to protect it.’
‘It’s been all right for two thousand years,’ said the Copt. ‘Why does it suddenly need protection?’
Owen pointed to the names carved on the bark.
‘It’s being defaced.’
‘That’s how I make my money,’ protested Daniel indignantly.
‘Ah, yes. But you shouldn’t. Not while ownership of the property is being disputed.’
‘It’s not being disputed. It’s mine.’
‘Apparently it was given to the Empress Eugenie in 1869.’
‘This is a Muslim plot!’ cried Daniel, reeling back.
‘The Muslims are nothing to do with it,’ said Owen sternly. He wasn’t going to have this adding fuel to the fire.
Or so he thought.
‘A deputation to see you,’ announced Nikos, his Official Clerk.
‘Deputation?’
‘From the Patriarch.’
The outer office was full of Copts.
‘This is outrageous!’ said their leader, one of three bishops.
‘What exactly-?’
‘The seizing of Coptic property.’
‘Ah, the Tree? I have explained that the guard is there merely to protect it.’
‘It certainly needs protection; but who from?’
‘Well-’
‘First you let the Muslims defile it. Then you let the Catholics take it away!’
‘We’re really not at that stage yet.’
‘Ah! Then it is true? The Catholics are going to take it at some time?’
‘The Tree, apparently, was a gift to the Empress Eugenie-’
‘Yes, but who gave it?’
‘The Khedive Ismail-’
‘But did it belong to him?’ Seeing his advantage, the bishop pressed home. ‘Was it his to give?’
‘Well, I-’
‘It has belonged to Copts for over a thousand years.’
‘Look, this is a matter for lawyers-’
‘One would think so. But the judgement has, apparently, already been made.’
‘Not at all.’
‘Why, then, has a guard been placed at the Tree?’
‘To protect it pending a resolution of the issue. Until then the assumption is that ownership remains as it is at present.’
‘We demand that the rights of Coptic citizens be protected!’
‘I give you that assurance.’
‘What is it worth, though?’ asked one of the other bishops. ‘Will Britain stand up for Copts the way France does for Roman Catholics?’
‘The policy of His Majesty’s government is not to interfere in religious matters. In the case of Egypt, it has consistently urged the Khedive not to discriminate against particular groups of his subjects-’
‘He has given away our Tree!’
When Owen next visited the Tree he found not just the guard he had posted but also six other men.
‘Who are they?’
‘Friends,’ said Daniel, grinning.
They were all Copts. Copts tended to be small. These weren’t.
‘What are they doing here?’
‘Helping to protect the Tree. You said it needed protection.’
Owen had managed to arrive just before Sheikh Isa. The sheikh descended from his donkey and looked at the men. ‘Who are these men?’ he said.
‘My assistants,’ said Daniel.
‘What do you need assistants for?’
‘To hold the knives. See?’
The men produced daggers from their clothes and brandished them ostentatiously.
‘We’ll have no trouble!’ Owen warned.
‘Trouble? This is just in case anyone wants to carve their name. A knife is available at a fee. And without one, if that’s absolutely necessary.’
‘This is a Muslim tree,’ said Sheikh Isa.
‘You reckon?’ said one of the Copts.
‘The ownership is under dispute,’ said Owen, ‘and will be settled in the courts.’
‘So you don’t own it then?’ cried Sheikh Isa.
‘I certainly do,’ retorted Daniel. ‘And no Frenchman is going to take it away from me.’
‘Frenchman?’ said Sheikh Isa, bewildered.
‘The Tree was given to the Empress Eugenie,’ Owen explained. ‘Or so the French say.’
‘Frenchmen? Foreigners?’ said Sheikh Isa incredulously.
‘Catholics!’ spat Daniel. ‘They’re all Catholics!’
‘Christians? Not more Christians!’ cried Sheikh Isa.
‘They’re not taking my Tree away!’ said Daniel.
‘Take it away?’
‘No one’s taking it away,’ said Owen, intervening swiftly. ‘The French have just made a claim for it, that’s all. It will be settled in the courts.’
‘It will be settled on the battlefield!’ shouted Sheikh Isa. ‘Take it away? The desert will run with blood first!’
The next day, in addition to the guard and the six Copts, there were another six men.
‘Who are you?’ said Owen.
‘We are Sheikh Isa’s men. The Sons of Islam.’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Looking after the Tree. The Catholics are coming to take it away. These Copt bastards are going to give it to them.’
‘I’m going to give it to you!’ said Daniel, getting to his feet.
‘Cut it out!’ snapped Owen. ‘Any nonsense from any of you and you’ll all be in the caracol! You!’ he said to the guard. ‘See there’s no trouble!’
‘What, me?’ said the guard. ‘On my own?’
The next day, in addition to the guard, the six Copts and the six Sons of Islam, there were three other guards.
‘Four men?’ said Garvin, the Commandant of Police, whose men they were. ‘For how long? How long did you say it was going to be before the case was decided?’
The village was got up as if for a festival. Banners were hung across the street, bunting festooned all the houses. Holy texts dangled from the windows.
‘What’s all this?’ said Owen to his friend the barber.
‘It’s the pilgrims,’ said the barber. Any day now they’ll start arriving.’
‘On their way to Birket-el-Hadj?’
‘That’s right. It’s where they all gather.’
Owen frowned. He had forgotten about the Mecca caravan.
‘They pass through here?’
‘And through the other villages. They come from all sides.’ Owen’s frown deepened. The last thing he could do with just at the moment was hordes of the devout converging on the neighbourhood.
‘When does the caravan leave?’
‘Oh, not for several weeks yet. It takes time for them all to assemble.’
Sheikh Isa stood at the door of his house.
‘Is there not joy in your heart, Englishman?’ he demanded, gesturing at all the decorations.