Free Stormy Haven by Rosalind Brett Page A

.”
    Senor Perez smiled. “ Absorbed in the soil when there are such ladies here? ” He looked indulgently from Elfrida to Melanie. “ My son and I deem ourselves fortunate. Our departure is postponed indefinitely. ”
    “ That ’ s good news, ” Stephen answered imperturbably. “ Shall we go inside? ”
    The vast central hall of the Tiran was cool and white, with an artistically patterned stone floor and ornamental columns supporting the blue, star-jeweled dome. The seating was arranged in a horseshoe shape around the center, which left a wide opening for the entrance and exit of performers. The first row of cushioned wicker chairs had been reserved for Senor Perez ’ s party, the next rows were filling with a mixture of French, English, Chinese and higher caste Indians. The cheap accommodation, right at the back, comprised long wooden planks on trestle supports; these were already occupied by coolies and their women. The place smelled of incense and joss sticks.
    Melanie, placed with Stephen on one hand and Ramon on the other, felt like a pigeon between a hawk and a raven. On Stephen ’ s other side sat Elfrida. Melanie leaned forward to draw off the white cape, saw Stephen negligently take possession of it and drop it over his knees. She heard a sharp breath from Ramon. Really! That young man was becoming altogether too proprietary. Thank heaven Stephen gave most of his attention to Elfrida; though there was something rather unpalatable about that, too.
    The cross-legged flutists began to play a wild, wailing melody of which nobody took a scrap of notice. But when the gorgeously robed and turbaned master of ceremonies stalked in, the bedlam in the back rows hushed to a murmur. The man spoke at some length in Tamil.
    “ The first turn is a local magician, ” Stephen translated succinctly.
    The magician wore a fez, a red monkey jacket and baggy green trousers drawn in with white puttees. He threw things into the air that never came down, snipped a strip of silk into a thousand pieces, waved a stick over the heap and converted it into one piece again. The acme of his achievements smote Melanie with awe. A young Indian woman, apparently sleeping, lay on a wooden platform within full view of the audience. The magician undulated his hands above her body, and, slowly she began to rise, still horizontal, still apparently sleeping. Several times the man passed a hoop along the whole length of her body, and at last he threw aside the hoop and waved her back to her hard couch, from which she roused gracefully and gradually to make an obeisance and drift away. The applause was prolonged.
    Next came four seemingly boneless dancers, who were followed by a team of acrobats. Then an intermission was announced.
    Everyone was standing, moving toward the exits. Melanie, drugged by the perfumed smoke, the weird music and the extraordinary spectacle she had just witnessed, was not quite sure how she had emerged into the moon-laden night. She was with Stephen; Elfrida and Ramon were nowhere around.
    Stephen said, “ Let ’ s give the crowd the slip for ten minutes. This way. ”
    He led her down a wide flight of steps, along a paved path.
    At the end was a parapet in full moonlight, and here they stopped, leaning their backs against the ornamental stone and viewing what could be seen through and above the trees of the Tiran Palace.
    After a moment he asked, “ How have you been doing? ”
    “ Fairly well, ” she said. “ The time is going too quickly. ”
    “ Mindoa suits you. You ’ ve changed a bit since the voyage. ”
    “ Have I? ” This was vaguely unpleasant hearing. “ In what way ?”
    He shrugged. “ On board you were just a nice kid who occasionally, when Elfrida wasn ’ t looking, showed a burst of spirit and independence. Now you ’ re so moon-eyed with infatuation that you haven ’ t any character worth speaking of. ”
    “ I ’ d almost forgotten that forceful approach of yours, ” she retorted. “