The Implacable Hunter by Gerald Kersh Page B

give Mnesicles!’
    ‘Well …’
    ‘And above all, my dear Parnach, think of peace and quiet. It will be diplomatic on your part, to appear to be Mnesicles’s admirer and friend. In public, mind – positively in public!’
    ‘I will look for Mnesicles, as it were, casually.’
    ‘Do so immediately, won’t you? And on no account mention my name in this connection.’
    He nodded, and took from a cupboard a heavy little bag. ‘Something for you to bestow in charity upon your poor?’ he said, with a sidelong smile.
    I replied, rather curtly: ‘Such generosity has ruined better men than you, Parnach. Keep your money. You may perhaps need it for your journey.’
    ‘My journey? Where?’
    ‘To another town, with luck, if you’re not careful. Now do as you were told.’
    ‘Did I say something wrong?’
    ‘Yes. Good day to you.’
    He ran after me, crying: ‘Forgive me – I meant no harm! – your visit upset me!’
    ‘If you have a clear conscience, it ought to have reassured you.’
    ‘My conscience is clear, but …’ he stopped, embarrassed.
    How could I be angry with him for assuming that I was to be kept sweet with money? It was a safe enough thing to take for granted in dealing with peace officers, especially in Asia.
    ‘But nobody has told you yet,’ I said, ‘that if you were a guilty party and Diomed had a just cause, good evidence, and a free hand, he’d have you up for questioning if youwere his own brother and he had to dig you out of a mountain of money. I have nothing against you, so rest easy, Parnach. Good day.’
    I tried to be in a good humour when I came to Paulus’s house, but I was never at my ease there, although I was received with all the friendly deference in the world. I always went away with an uneasy feeling of having soiled something . Paulus’s wife Jaël made me sit, and with her own pretty hands, which seemed too light for the jewels they wore, offered me fruit, sweetmeats, and a cup of sweet wine.
    I recognised the cup – it was a specially ornate one of silver inlaid with gold – and I will swear that it was reserved, like the dishes, for my use only; that it was kept in a special place, and that, having touched it, Jaël would afterwards purify her hands by washing them seven times seven times in running water. And I could not help thinking of her namesake, who received Sisera with such hospitality that she lured him into slumber; whereupon she drove a spike into his head, thereby becoming an immortal heroine among the Jews.
    Paulus’s Jaël cast her glance down, in modesty, incidentally revealing luxuriant lashes. Her expression was shyly secretive and demurely sensual, as if she had a great deal to say, but only in a whisper to a girl friend; her red lips were slightly parted in a dreamy half-smile, and moistened as if in anticipation of some pleasantly intimate shock of surprise . The late sun caught the bloom on her cheeks and ringed her face with a warm golden radiance; a shadow of dark down accentuated the affectionate curve of her rich mouth.
    ‘Ah, wicked Prefect!’ she said. ‘You take my husband away from his home all the time.’
    ‘Ah, beautiful lady!’ I replied. ‘It is a wicked world. But if every man had a wife only half as beautiful as you, all the world would stay at home, and everything would be perfect.’
    My compliments, at least, were kosher; but I think if every such word had been a suckling pig, Jaël would have devoured it. She was beautiful, and she knew it. King David knew what he was doing when he brought several such girls into his bed to warm him in his old age; although, I thought, one such would have been quite enough for him in his prime.
    ‘Such beauty as yours compels a husband to strict fidelity,’ I said, ‘and is therefore a great power for good in the world.’
    This, of course, was a damned lie; but she liked it.
    Then Paulus came in. Ignoring Jaël, he cried: ‘Diomed!’
    ‘I was about to explain to the most exquisite