Black Mischief by Evelyn Waugh Read Free Book Online Page A

theatrical
promotion. At the outbreak of the European war he had retired first to the
United States, and then, on its entry into the war, to Mexico. Soon after the
declaration of peace he became an American citizen and amused himself in
politics. Having subscribed largely to a successful Presidential campaign, he
was offered his choice of several public preferments, of which the ministry at
Debra Dowa was by far the least prominent or lucrative. His European
upbringing, however, had invested diplomacy with a glamour which his later
acquaintance with the great world had never completely dimmed; he had made all
the money he needed; the climate at Debra Dowa was reputed to be healthy and
the environment romantic. Accordingly he had chosen that post and had not
regretted it, enjoying during the last eight years a popularity and prestige
which he would hardly have attained among his own people.
    The
French Minister, M. Ballon, was a Freemason.
    His
Britannic Majesty’s minister, Sir Samson Courteney, was a man of singular
personal charm and wide culture whose comparative ill-success in diplomatic
life was attributable rather to inattention than to incapacity. As a very
young man he had great things predicted of him. He had passed his examinations
with a series of papers of outstanding brilliance; he had powerful family
connections in the Foreign Office; but almost from the outset of his career it
became apparent that he would disappoint expectations. As third secretary at
Peking he devoted himself, to the exclusion of all other interests, to the
construction of a cardboard model of the Summer Palace; transferred to
Washington he conceived a sudden enthusiasm for bicycling and would disappear
for days at a time to return dusty but triumphant with reports of some broken
record for speed or endurance; the scandal caused by this hobby culminated in
the discovery that he had entered his name for an international long-distance
championship. His uncles at the Foreign Office hastily shifted him to
Copenhagen, marrying him, on his way through London, to the highly suitable
daughter of a Liberal cabinet minister. It was in Sweden that his career was
finally doomed. For some time past he had been noticeably silent at the dinner
table when foreign languages were being spoken; now the shocking truth became
apparent that he was losing his mastery even of French; many ageing diplomats,
at loss for a word, could twist the conversation and suit their opinions to
their vocabulary; Sir Samson recklessly improvised or lapsed into a kind of
pidgin English. The uncles were loyal. He was recalled to London and
established in a department of the Foreign Office. Finally, at the age of
fifty, when his daughter Prudence was thirteen years old, he was created a
Knight of St Michael and St George and relegated to Azania. The appointment caused
him the keenest delight. It would have astonished him to learn that anyone
considered him unsuccessful or that he was known throughout the service as the
‘Envoy Extraordinary’.
    The
Legation lay seven miles out of the capital; a miniature garden city in a stockaded
compound, garrisoned by a troop of Indian cavalry. There was wireless
communication with Aden and a telephone service, of capricious activity, to the
town. The road, however, was outrageous. For a great part of the year it was
furrowed by water-courses, encumbered with boulders, landslides and fallen
trees, and ambushed by cut-throats. On this matter Sir Samson’s predecessor
had addressed numerous remonstrances to the Azanian government with the result
that several wayfarers were hanged under suspicion of brigandage; nothing, however,
was done about the track; the correspondence continued and its conclusion was
the most nearly successful achievement of Sir Samson’s career. Stirred by his
appointment and zealous for his personal comfort, the Envoy Extraordinary
had, for the first time in his life, thrown himself wholeheartedly into a
question of public