Part 1. You are going to read an extract from a novel.
For questions 1-6, choose the answer (A,
B, C or D) which you think fits best according to the text.
Graecen took out his pen and wrote his name neatly at the head of the list for the excursion to
“The Labyrinth of Crete”. “Shall I put yours?” he asked. Baird nodded and then thanked him.
“And mine, please,” said Campion, who was craning over Baird’s shoulder.
Few of the other passengers showed much interest apart from the Trumans, who spent a good
five minutes calculating the cost of the rate of exchange and wondering whether the expenditure would
be justified. Finally, they added their names to the list. Fearmax pondered the question seriously over
dinner, and only added his name after the purser had made a short announcement to the effect that he
would like the list closed by ten o’clock that night as the Captain was required to contact Crete stating
the number of prospective excursionists and arranging for cars to ferry them to their destination.
Miss Dale and Miss Dombey brought up the rear; the former because she had a vague feeling
that the visit might help her with her examination and the latter because she was an inveterate sightseer,
and because humanitarian motives demanded that Spot, her dog, should have a run on terra firma after
so many days at sea. Several other names were added to the list, but these were later erased when it
emerged that the trip would take up nearly a whole day. The name of Colonel Sinclair was also on the
list, but he had become too incapacitated by sea sickness to avail himself of the opportunity offered by
the Jannadis Brothers. He la in his bunk groaning for Cheltenham. Later, of course, he claimed that a
premonition had prevented him from going rather than sea sickness. Indeed, on this return, the local
paper published this myth under the headline of Colone’s Premonition.
The sea in the Cretan channel had become rough again and several passengers, including Miss
Dombey, suffered from sea sickness – not because the Europa rolled, but because the ship moved so
steadily through a raging sea of whitecaps that piled up around her like the froth on a café viennois. By
dawn, however, the squall had blown itself out and the great vessel nosed cautiously into the
magnificent bay of Suda and anchored opposite the twisted wreck of the old warship York, which lay,
a rusted relic of the Cretan campaign, belly-down in the shallows.
Baird had been up at dawn to watch the sunrise over the familiar Cretan landscape. He was
troubled by something, but he could not put his finger on exactly what it was: The sun rose slowly from
among the snow-capped peaks of the White Mountains. It was bitterly cold, but he had found himself
a vantage point on the boat deck where he was shielded from the light piercing wind. From there,
looking down into the harbour, he could see the reflection of the ship rustling in the water, almost
motionless except for the thick black plume of smoke billowing from the white stacks. He stared out
eagerly across the island, taking in every detail, surprised to find how intimately he could remember it
all. A foreground of olive trees and turned red earth, a few box-like houses and an oil refinery gave
way to a dusty road winding into the distance – in his imagination peopled by dusty columns of New
Zealanders and British, plodding their way towards Sphakia. He could have walked inland with his
eyes shut.
As he was standing there, a car came over the brow of the hill and took the winding road, fringed
with pines, which led to the jetty. It stopped at the water’s edge and a man got out. Was it perhaps
Axelos who had come to meet Graecen? He saw almost immediately that it was someone much smaller
than Axelos. A fisherman in a blue jersey brought the newcomer across until his boat rested in the
shadow of the Europa. From the cut of the man’s clothes, Baird concluded that he was probably
English, though quite why he should come aboard at this hour was more than the observer could fathom.
‘Prosechete, Kirie,’ he heard the boatman say. It was the first Greek he had heard for some time; it
filled him with a kind of nostalgic pain. He scanned the face of the boatman eagerly to see if it was
anyone he knew. He had obviously been out all night fishing. The British Consul took his time to come
aboard. He was tired and peevish, and walked like a person of considerable standing to the bridge,
where he asked for the officer of the watch. “I understand you have passengers wishing to visit the
labyrinth. I have come to inform you that the trip is simply not safe.’
He was conducted below to see the Captain, to whom he explained his business more clearly,
slightly mollified by the excellent coffee and biscuits he was served. ‘There’s a travel agency run by
two young Greeks,’ he said. ‘They advertise tours of the labyrinth. Now, my advice is to dissuade
passengers from running the risk. The labyrinth simply isn’t safe. I don’t want to have British subjects
lost on the island. It upsets the Embassy and I’ve no doubt your company would not like to risk the
lives of its passengers.’
The Captain listened to him carefully and decided that his manner was to peremptory for a mere
vice-Consul. The company, he pointed out, was exempt from any responsibility in the matter. The
Jannides Agency had merely canvassed visitors to the labyrinth. It was not up to him to stop people
enjoying themselves. At any rate, he would post a notice on the board, explaining that the place was
considered dangerous by the Consul, and advising passengers not to risk it.
Over breakfast all eight of them read the Captain’s notice with curiosity not unmixed with
excitement. they felt rather bold to be visiting a place considered unsafe by the Consul. Even Miss
Dombey, who was under the weather, felt it was up to her show she was no coward. ‘You’re intrepid,
that’s what you are,’ said Campion to her in his stage-Cockney accent while buttering his toast.
1. Why did some people remove their names from the list to visit the labyrinth?
A. They felt the excursion was overpriced
B. They did not trust the transport on the island.
C. They hadn’t signed up before the deadline.
D. They had been discouraged from going.
2. It can be inferred from the newspaper story about Colonel Sinclair that
A. reporters are all too willing to believe respected members of society.
B. journalists manipulate the truth by ignoring context.
C. the press tend to opt for the sensational over the mundane.
D. the editors had little knowledge of Cretan mythology.
3. Baird was familiar with Crete because
A. he had worked on a tanker operating in the region.
B. he had participated in a military campaign on the island.
C. he had stayed with one of Graecen’s friends who lived there.
D. he had cruised around the Mediterranean before.
4. Why has the sentence “One always does this in Greece” been added in brackets.
A. to illustrate that Baird’s staring would not be considered rude.
B. to highlight how much the fisherman had changed over the years.
C. to show that Greek people all look alike to foreigners.
D. to remind the reader that Crete is part of Greece.
5. When the diplomat was taken below, the Captain
A. tried to placate him by offering him coffee and biscuits.
B. refused to believe the tour organizers were reckless.
C. decided that he would not cooperate with him.
D. did not realize exactly who his visitor was.
6. The notice the Captain posed for the passengers visiting the labyrinth
A. was worded so as not to act as a deterrent.
B. did very little to allay their fears.
C. would not have met with the Consul’s approval.
D. gave them added incentive to go on the excursion.