Two days later Rambert and Cottard climbed the wide shadeless street leading to the upper part of the town. The barracks occupied by the customs officers had been partly transformed into a hospital, and a number of people were standing outside the main entrance, some of them hoping to be allowed to visit a patient, a futile hope, since such visits were strictly prohibited, and others to glean some news of an invalid, news that in the course of an hour would have ceased to count. For these reasons there were always a number of people and a certain amount of movement at this spot, a fact that probably accounted for its choice by Garcia for his meeting with Rambert.
«It puzzles me,» Cottard remarked, «why you’re so keen on going. Really, what’s happening here is extremely interesting.»
«Not to me,» Rambert replied.
«Well, yes, one’s running some risks, I grant you. All the same, when you come to think of it, one ran quite as much risk in the old days crossing a busy street.»
Just then Rieux’s car drew up level with them. Tarrou was at the wheel, and Rieux seemed half-asleep. He roused himself to make the introductions.
«We know each other,» Tarrou said. «We’re at the same hotel.» He then offered to drive Rambert back to the center.
«No, thanks. We’ve an appointment here.» Rieux looked hard at Rambert.
«Yes,» Rambert said.
«What’s that?» Cottard sounded surprised. «The doctor knows about it?» «There’s the magistrate.» Tarrou gave Cottard a warning glance.
Cottard’s look changed. M. Othon was striding down the street toward them, briskly, yet with dignity. He took off his hat as he came up with them.
«Good morning, Monsieur Othon,» said Tarrou.
The magistrate returned the greeting of the men in the car and, turning to Rambert and Cottard, who were in the background, gave them a quiet nod. Tarrou introduced Cottard and the journalist. The magistrate gazed at the sky for a moment, sighed, and remarked that these were indeed sad times.
«I’ve been told, Monsieur Tarrou,» he continued, «that you are helping to enforce the prophylactic measures. I need hardly say how commendable that is, a fine example. Do you think, Dr. Rieux, that the epidemic will get worse?»
Rieux replied that one could only hope it wouldn’t, and the magistrate replied that one must never lose hope, the ways of Providence were inscrutable.
Tarrou asked if his work had increased as the result of present conditions.
«Quite the contrary. Criminal cases of what we call the first instance are growing rarer. In fact, almost my only work just now is holding inquiries into more serious breaches of the new regulations. Our ordinary laws have never been so well respected.»
«That’s because, by contrast, they necessarily appear good ones,» Tarrou observed.
The magistrate, who seemed unable to take his gaze off the sky, abruptly dropped his mildly meditative air and stared at Tarrou.
«What does that matter? It’s not the law that counts, it’s the sentence. And that is something we must all accept.»
«That fellow,» said Tarrou when the magistrate was out of hearing, «is Enemy Number One.»
He pressed the starter.
Some minutes later Rambert and Cottard saw Garcia approaching. Without making any sign of recognition he came straight up to them and, by way of greeting, said: «You’ll have to wait a bit.»
There was complete silence in the crowd around them, most of whom were women.
Nearly all were carrying parcels; they had the vain hope of somehow smuggling these in to their sick relatives, and the even crazier idea that the latter could eat the food they’d brought. The gate was guarded by armed sentries, and now and then an eerie cry resounded in the courtyard between the barrack rooms and the entrance. Whenever this happened, anxious eyes turned toward the sick-wards.
The three men were watching the scene when a brisk «Good morning» from behind them made them swing round. In spite of the heat Raoul was wearing a well-cut dark suit and a felt hat with rolled-up brim. He was tall and strongly built, his face rather pale. Hardly moving his lips, he said quickly and clearly:
«Let’s walk down to the center. You, Garcia, needn’t come.»
Garcia lit a cigarette and remained there while they walked away. Placing himself between Rambert and Cottard, Raoul set the pace, a fast one.
«Garcia’s explained the situation,» he said. «We can fix it. But I must warn you it’ll cost you a cool ten thousand.»
Rambert said he agreed to these terms.
«Lunch with me tomorrow at the Spanish restaurant near the docks.» Rambert said: «Right,» and Raoul shook his hand, smiling for the first time.
After he had gone, Cottard said he wouldn’t be able to come to lunch next day, as he had an engagement, but anyhow Rambert didn’t need him any more.
When next day Rambert entered the Spanish restaurant, everyone turned and stared at him. The dark, cellarlike room, below the level of the small yellow street, was patronized only by men, mostly Spaniards, judging by their looks. Raoul was sitting at a table at the back of the room. Once he had beckoned to the journalist and Rambert started to go toward him, the curiosity left the faces of others and they bent over their plates again. Raoul had beside him a tall, thin, ill-shaven man, with enormously wide shoulders, an equine face, and thinning hair. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, displaying long, skinny arms covered with black hair. When Rambert was introduced he gave three slow nods. His own name, however, was not announced and Raoul, when referring to him, always said «our friend.»
«Our friend here thinks he may be able to help you. He is going?» Raoul broke off, as the waitress had just come to take Rambert’s order. «He is going to put you in touch with two of our friends who will introduce you to some sentries whom we’ve squared. But that doesn’t mean you can start right away. You’ll have to leave it to the sentries to decide on the best moment. The simplest thing will be for you to stay some nights with one of them; his home is quite near the gate. The first thing is for our friend here to give you the contacts needed; then when everything’s set, you’ll settle with him for the expenses.»
Again the «friend» slowly moved his equine head up and down, without ceasing to munch the tomato and pimento salad he was shoveling into his mouth. After which he began to speak, with a slight Spanish accent. He asked Rambert to meet him, the next day but one, at eight in the morning, in the Cathedral porch.
«Another two days’ wait,» Rambert observed.
«It ain’t so easy as all that, you see,» Raoul said. «Them boys take some finding.» Horse-face nodded slow approval once more. Some time was spent looking for a
subject of conversation. The problem was solved easily enough when Rambert discovered that horse-face was an ardent football-player. He, too, had been very keen on soccer. They discussed the French championship, the merits of professional English teams, and the technique of passing.
By the end of the meal horse-face was in high good humor, was calling Rambert «old boy,» and trying to convince him that the most sporting position by far on the football field was that of center half. «You see, old boy, it’s the center half that does the placing. And that’s the whole art of the game, isn’t it?» Rambert was inclined to agree, though he, personally, had always played center forward. The discussion proceeded peacefully until a radio was turned on and, after at first emitting a series of sentimental songs, broke into the announcement that there had been a hundred and thirty-seven plague deaths on the previous day. No one present betrayed the least emotion. Horse-face merely shrugged and stood up.
Raoul and Rambert followed his example.
As they were going out, the center half shook Rambert’s hand vigorously. «My name’s Gonzales,» he said.
To Rambert the next two days seemed endless. He looked up Rieux and described to him the latest developments, then accompanied the doctor on one of his calls. He took leave of him on the doorstep of a house where a patient, suspected to have plague, was awaiting him. There was a sound of footsteps and voices in the hall; the family were being warned of the doctor’s visit.
«I hope Tarrou will be on time,» Rieux murmured. He looked worn out. «Is the epidemic getting out of hand?» Rambert asked.
Rieux said it wasn’t that; indeed, the death-graph was rising less steeply. Only they lacked adequate means of coping with the disease.
«We’re short of equipment. In all the armies of the world a shortage of equipment is usually compensated for by manpower. But we’re short of man-power, too.»
«Haven’t doctors and trained assistants been sent from other towns?»
«Yes,» Rieux said. «Ten doctors and a hundred helpers. That sounds a lot, no doubt. But it’s barely enough to cope with the present state of affairs. And it will be quite inadequate if things get worse.»
Rambert, who had been listening to the sounds within the house, turned to Rieux with a friendly smile.
«Yes,» he said, «you’d better make haste to win your battle.» Then a shadow crossed his face. «You know,» he added in a low tone: «it’s not because of that I’m leaving.»
Rieux replied that he knew it very well, but Rambert went
