wouldnât prefer to be warned. I like to get myself in order before a change.â
This was not quite the style of thing Graecen liked. He did not want pity or commiseration, but he did feel.⦠âWell,â he said, âIâve locked up the flat, sent Garbett on a holiday, and made my will. Iâm as free as the wind. And look.â He flourished the travel-companyâs ticket before Hogarth, who was slowly turning the book of poems over and over, as if it were some puzzling potsherd whose function he could not decide.
âCefalû,â said Graecen, enunciating clearly but softly the word which seemed to have come out of a W. J. Turner poem.
âCefalû,â repeated Hogarth without any emphasis one way or the other. His interest had now moved on from the book to the ticket. The name of the ship was the Europa , âBaird is going to Crete too,â he said. âA patient of mine. Youâll be travelling together, and will see.â¦â
âSilenus,â said Graecen with the air of a conjurer bringing off a trick. âI shall tell him everything.â
âYou wonât need to,â said Hogarth sardonically. âHeâll probably tell you, that old Phanariot intriguer. What is all this about the labyrinth? I saw it in the paper.â
Graecen fished a letter out of his pocket holding up an excited hand to prevent Hogarth saying any more until he should deliver himself of his news, âA letter from Silenus,â he said. âLook.â
Hogarth saw the familiar vermilion and the little drawing on the letterhead, of a village perched upon the side of a high stone cone. âRead it,â he said. He knew that Graecen loved to read aloud, having a conceit of his voice. âAll right, I will.â
Graecen sat back and put on his story-book voiceâthe voice reserved for reading of his own work on the radio.
âThe sunâ, he read, âcomes up every day like the naked flash of a cannon. I am sitting in the garden writing on a fallen block of marble. The roses are doing well and so, as you have heard, is the archaeology. Further to my last, the labyrinth has produced a stone inscriptionâpre-Minoan? At any rate anothen script I cannot tackle, part hieroglyph. The Museum say they will send for you if I wish? My dear fellow, of course I wish. A summer in Cefalû would do you good. I need company. Bring anyone you wish. But please follow these instructions implicitly: Do not in any way, in print or by statements to the Press, commit yourself to a belief in, or knowledge of, the New Era (we hope) Iâve stumbled on. Got that?â Graecen broke off in confusion and found Hogarthâs steady eye upon him. He wrinkled his brows. âNow I wonder why ,â he said plaintively.
Hogarth admitted a wrinkle to his left cheek and shook out the burnt top of his dottle. âWhy not guess?â he said. Graecen looked at him innocently.
âDicky,â said Hogarth, âyou know what our dear Silenus is. Itâs just possible that the New Era isââ
âFaked?â said Graecen in alarm.
âWell, itâs a proposition,â said Hogarth easily. âIt surely wouldnât be hard to do.â
âBut the lovely statue,â said Graecen.
âI should have a good look at it,â his friend advised.
Graecen looked confused and put the letter back in his pocket. He thought hard.
âHow do you tell the age of a statue anyway?â said Hogarth, âapart from guesswork or typology?â
Graecen was too busy thinking to answer. He could easily get Firbank and his beastly chemicals to come along and test the stone; âbut I donât want to start any suspicion about Axelos,â he said.
âChemicals?â said Hogarth. âTake some along with you when you go.â
âI will,â said Graecen fervently. âI will.â
He ate a rejected crust off his plate and seemed