A Hero for Leanda

much more freedom of action.”
    “That’s true.... Well, now, what’s our plan?”
    “This is my plan,” Conway said. He bent and kissed her lightly on the mouth. “Darling Leanda, you look beautiful!”
    She stared at him. “What’s that for?”
    “Now that we’re here we’ve got to start being affectionate again. The eyes of the enemy are upon us!”
    “I see... All right, within reason...”
    “We’ve also got to look as much like tourists as possible. Better get your camera and sunglasses.”
    She went below and fetched them. “What are we going to do, though?” she said, as she reappeared. “Where do we start?”
    “Well, we mustn’t start by showing too much interest in Kastella, that’s obvious.”
    “We mustn’t show too little, either. Anyone coming here would be sure to know about him, and ask questions.”
    “All the same, I’d prefer to wait until the subject crops up naturally.”
    “Who will it crop up with?”
    Conway grinned. “The governor, I hope.”
    “The governor!”
    “That’s right. I’m not very well up in these things, being Irish, but I’ve always understood the correct drill on arriving in a British colony is to call and pay one’s respects. Anyway, I’ll ring up Government House and see what happens.”
    “You mean now?”
    “Well, we’ll wait a bit—we don’t want to give the impression we’ve rushed straight from the boat to a phone box. Let’s go and have a look round the town.”
    He tucked her hand in his and guided her along the uneven quay. To both of them, the ground seemed to sway a little after their two weeks in Thalia. As they passed the harbor master’s office, Conway looked in and arranged for someone to keep an eye on the boat. Then they walked on into Port Edward.

    Their first impression was of a busy, lively, colorful town with a lot of character. On the far side of the harbor, more schooners and ketches were loading and unloading a variety of exotic cargoes. Shiny cars raced past an incongruous-looking “Major Road Ahead” sign with blaring horns. Crowds of cheerful, amiable people, ranging in color from jet black to white, but most of them African in origin, thronged the streets and shops, filling the air with their high-pitched chatter and sudden squeals of laughter. There were women with flat shiny noses and enormous buttocks carrying woolly-capped babies strapped to their backs; men with black skins and Western features; young girls with high-heeled shoes and elegant handbags and drifts of white powder over their chocolate complexions; elderly empire builders in white shorts and stockings and sun helmets; European wives paying calls; old Negresses in black skirts, with cloths knotted round their heads; and young Negroes wearing straw hats of which little but the crown was left. There was no lack of subjects to photograph.
    The hub of the place seemed to be a large square, surrounded by two-story public buildings and trading company offices of wood and concrete, and dominated by a cathedral with a huge belfry and a façade of staggering ugliness. At one end of the square there was a taxi-and-rickshaw rank, and a statue of Edward VII on a black plinth; at the other, a large dragon tree, giving shade to a score of young Negroes in white shirts and trousers who were lolling, sleeping, playing mouth organs and strumming guitars, or just vacantly staring. There was a faint stir as Leanda stopped to photograph a small boy who was carrying a letter on his head with a large stone on top to keep it down, and a dozen pairs of ruminating eyes remained on her till she was out of sight. Conway suggested they should have a look at the market, but it smelled powerfully of dried fish and rancid coconut oil and they soon passed on. Moving slowly in the languorous heat, they made their way along untidy streets fined with crazy shacks that seemed to be built entirely of corrugated iron and flattened petrol cans. Away from the center, most of the town seemed to be like that. Port Edward wasn’t, they agreed, much of a place after all.
    Back in the square, they turned into a bar and quenched their thirst with two lime squashes. Conway bought an English-language paper, the Port Edward Star, from a passing newsboy, and left Leanda to look for any references to Kastella while he went off to telephone Government House.
    He was back in about five minutes. “Well, that’s that,” he said. “His Excellency will be happy to see us at half past