The Spring of the Tiger

by Victoria Holt

  "Forgive me," she said in her soft and slightly husky voice. "Clinton is right. The joy of seeing you overcomes me. It makes me selfish. There is tomonow. Then we can talk and talk. . . ."

  "I am not in the least tired," I protested.

  "You are, my dear," replied Clinton firmly. 'Tour excitement hides the fact from you. We'll go straight back after the meal. Clytie knows I am right."

  Sheba seemed to be listening intently. She picked up the boy.

  "Is my aunt going to heaven?" he asked.

  There was a strange silence in the room or perhaps I imagined it. I was aware of Clytie's look of startled surprise and that Sheba's dark eyes were fixed on me. It passed almost immediately, but for half a second it was as though a drop of icy water were trickling down my spine.

  "Whatever made you say that?" asked Clytie.

  "Grandpapa went," replied Ralph.

  Chnton said: "No, young man. Your aunt has come here to stay."

  Clytie went to her son and ruffled his hair. "It's past your bedtime," she said.

  "I want to stay and look at Aunt Sarah."

  "You can do that tomorrow."

  "But I want to now"

  *'Go with Sheba now, darling, and HI come and tuck you up later on."

  "And sing to me?"

  *Tes."

  "And read to me?"

  Terhaps."

  He seemed reconciled.

  "Say good night," coaxed Clytie.

  ''Good night," he said. "I'll talk to Aunt Sarah tomonow. She's not going to heaven."

  We descended the stairs. Servants were setting the table in the dining room, which like ours had folding doors to the drawing room.

  It was not yet dark. Clinton had told me that because of the island's proximity to the equator, the length of the day did not vary more than an hour throughout the year. It would be dark about seven and that was not far off. I saw several oil lamps swinging from the ceiling and there were candles in brass sconces to augment the light of the lamps. They were similar to those which I had noticed in Clinton's house.

  Just as dinner was about to be served Seth Blandford joined us. There was no doubt about his nationality. His hair was of a reddish tinge and his eyebrows and lashes so light that they were scarcely visible. Apart from that he was good-looking, with excellent features and a very pale skin. He was of medium height but looked small beside Clinton.

  "Ah, Clinton," he said. "Home at last. And you have brought . . . Sarah."

  He turned to me and took my hand in a grip which is called sincere. I found it uncomfortable because it was so firm that I found it hard not to wince with pain as my wedding ring cut into my finger.

  "It's good to see you," he said. *Tou have a look of your father. What a tragedy. He should never have gone traveling."

  "He insisted," said Clinton.

  "And now he is dead. . . and Sarah is here."

  Clytie was looking at me fondly. "I am so happy that she has come."

  "Well, shall we have a drink and all get to know each other," said Seth.

  "I should have thought," retorted Clinton, "that we all did that —with the exception of Sarah."

  Clytie clapped her hands and two silent-footed servants came running in with glasses on a tray with gin and soda water. There were limes and some sort of fruit juice.

  Clytie poured out the drinks. Then Clinton hfted his glass and said: "To the homecoming!"

  Seth Blandford said quietly: 'The will was a bit of a surprise. One would have thought. . ."

  "Old Ralph was always unpredictable," agreed Clinton. "He always seemed so conventional and then he did what was least expected."

  "Well, Sarah." Seth had turned to me. "What does it feel like to be the owner of a plantation?"

  "Bewildering," I answered. "Particularly since I know absolutely nothing about it."

  "There!" cried Seth. "Why?"

  "She is his daughter and Clytie had the pearls," said Clinton.

  Clytie put a small fluttering hand on her throat and looked down.

  "Temporarily," retorted Seth with a trace of bitterness.

  "I hope you will like what I am going to give you to eat," Clytie put in quickly. "We eat a great deal of curry here. It's a native dish. They cook it better than anything else."

  She had managed to change the conversation, which was making me feel uneasy, and she talked about the next day when I should go over to her and see her garden. I must make the further acquaintance of young Ralph, who had been so excited at the prospect of my arrival. There was so much we had to talk about. Clothes for one thing. Had I suitable clothes?

  "Chnton told me about the chmate and I was prepared to a certain extent."

  "There is one thing Clinton knows nothing about and that is women's clothes."

  *'He knows how to appreciate them though," added Seth.

  "It is advice Sarah will need and I shall be here to give her that. I will show you where to buy beautiful materials. Six yards will make a sari and there is no sewing to do."

  "My dear Clytie," I cried, "can you imagine me in a sari? I'm much too big, I'm afraid."

  "You would look beautiful," she assured me.

  I shook my head. "Awkward. Unsuited to such a graceful garment. No. I had better keep to my native costume."

  "Well, I will tell you where to buy beautiful silks."

  "That will be exciting."

  It was twelve or so miles in to Kandy, I was told, but Man-ganiya, where we had alighted from the train, was quite close. It was not Kandy or Colombo but the shops there were quite good.

  "It will be such a pleasure to have you for a companion," said Clytie. "We must have a ball soon, Seth, to welcome Sarah. Everyone will want to meet her."

  It was dark when we went in to dinner.

  "We had a scare while you were away," Seth said as we ate, "both with tea tortrix and nettle grubs."

  "I'm sure you coped with the trouble," replied Clinton.

  "Oh yes. The crop is as healthy as it ever was."

  "What should we do without you, Seth?"

  Seth looked pleased.

  I was hungry and the curry tasted good. I listened with deep attention while they discussed the plantation. I kept thinking: This is mine. It's incredible! I could not understand my father's action. Clytie should have had the plantation. I could understand Seth's resentment, which he had already made obvious. Of course Clytie had the pearls in trust for her son's wife. . . .

  Strangely enough at that moment they were talking of pearls. Seth was saying something about the pearl fisheries in Tambalgam Bay.

  "One of your men was caught by a shark. That was the end of him."

  "Who?" cried Clinton.

  "Karam."

  *'Karam!" repeated Clinton. "He was one of my best divers. He should have been more careful."

  "Careful! Do you think the man would be anything but careful! The boat was there. The shark charmer was in it. He went down and the thing was lying in wait for him."

  "Karam! A good man. One of the best."

  *"! hear there was a good yield last season."

  "That's good news," said Clinton. "But Karam!"

  "What are these pearl fisheries?" I asked. "I've never heard of them before."

  Seth looked at Clinton rather slyly, I thought. "It's not like Chnton to hide his lights under bushels," he said.

  "Hadn't I mentioned them to you?" asked Clinton of me. "It's a pearl fishery I own up in the northwest. I'll take you there and show it to you. You want to go there when they're collecting the oysters though. That's about the second week in March and the season only lasts from four to six weeks."

  "Pearls!" I said. "You mean you deal in pearlsl"

  "It's a side line," said Clinton.

  Seth leaned forward. "Clinton practically owns Ceylon," he said. "He has tea here, pearls in the northwest and rubber in the forests. Half the ships you saw in the harbor at Colombo were carrying Clinton's merchandise."

  "It's necessary to get wha
t we can out of the country," Clinton explained. "These products are the livelihood of the people."

  "And the enrichment of those who make it possible," added Seth.

  "They would need to have some reward for their investment and their labor," Clinton reminded him.

  "I'm interested in the pearl fisheries," I said.

  "Trust a woman," retorted Clinton. "If you only knew when you put on those fine pearls what it cost to get them, you would pause to think."

  "I must say I never thought of it before."

  "Listen to this, Clytie!" cried Seth. "And think of it every time you wear your famous pearls."

  "I do," rephed Clytie quietly.

  Clinton turned to me and went on: "The wives and sweethearts of the pearl fishers call pearls the lives of men.'"

  "Is it so dangerous then?"

  "You have just heard that one of my best men was taken by a shark. Imagine it. The boats leave at midnight so that they can reach the oyster beds at sunrise. Each boat carries some ten divers. They work in pairs and they won't go down unless the shark charmers are in the boat. They chant strange music which is supposed to bring the sharks to such a state of delight that they are unaware of bodies intruding into their waters. Nevertheless every diver carries spikes of ironwood to ward off any shark that refuses to be charmed."

  "I wonder any of the men take on such work."

  "They must work or starve," said Clytie.

  Clinton was watching me intently. "It's true'. There's no alternative. But that is life, don't you agree?"

  In that moment I was deeply aware of the strangeness of everything. The heat; the sudden thud of an insect against the netting over the windows; myself in the midst of people of whom I really knew little except that they were close to me; the tension which was obvious between Seth and Clinton.

  They talked again of the plantation and Clytie told me she would drive the trap over in the morning, pick me up and take me home with her so that we could talk at length and she could show me round.

  It must have been about half past nine when we left. Seth and Clytie came out to wave us good-bye.

  "Did you enjoy it?" asked Clinton as the dog cart moved away.

  "Very much. I so longed to meet my sister."

  "And what do you think of her?"

  "She is charming and beautiful. It was a shock. I was expecting an English girl. You should have warned me."

  Clinton shrugged. "She takes after her mother. I've heard it said that she is the image of her."

  "I was never told that my father had married a Singhalese."

  "It happens . . . now and then. Many of the men here have native mistresses. Occasionally there are children. Now and then there is a marriage. Clytie has been educated as an EngUsh girl.

  Your father had an EngHsh governess out here for several years. A dragon of a woman, by all accounts. Then Seth came to manage the place and hey—presto—they are in love and married."

  "Is Seth a good manager?"

  *'He's not a bad second. He was hoping that the place would go to Clytie of course."

  "A natural enough hope, I suppose."

  'Well, one can never be sure of anything in this life."

  We were silent for the rest of the drive.

  In the stables one of the men was waiting to take charge of the dog cart, and, putting his arm through mine, Clinton led me towards the house. It gleamed white in the darkness. A lantern hung over the door and I was aware of the persistent hum of insects.

  We went into the hall.

  "Home at last," said Clinton and he turned to me and kissed me. As he released me I noticed a servant standing watching us.

  "Anything wanted, master?"

  "No thank you," replied Clinton.

  We went upstairs into the bedroom. Two lamps were lighted; the mosquito net was in position and I saw the corpses of several insects who had flung themselves against the netting in the hope of getting to the light.

  I thought fleetingly of my bedroom at the Grange. Cold winter nights when I hurriedly undressed and leaped into bed to get warm; and the summer when the windows were wide open to the clean fresh air.

  "Very different, isn't it?" said Clinton, once more displaying that uncanny ability to read my thoughts. "Never mind. You'll get used to it. It'll all be second nature in a very short time. And one day I'll take you back for a trip. You'll like that."

  I nodded and he started to undo the buttons of my dress.

  "Clinton," I said, "is it true that you own a good deal of Ceylon?"

  He laughed. "Seth's exaggeration, my dear. Ceylon is a big country, growing richer under the right sort of management. Some of us know how to extract the most out of the land. I'm just one of many."

  "It seems you own all these things. . . . The pearl fisheries, for instance."

  "They fascinated you, didn't they? It's all that talk about the Ashington Pearls which you've been hearing all your life."

  "Most people are fascinated by pearls. So it is true that you actually own pearl fisheries."

  "I have an interest in them ... as I have in other things. One has to spread one's interests you know. Look at the coffee disaster. We have only just recovered from that. At one time most people believed that if you produced coffee you must make your fortune. And then what happened? The market collapsed. As I've told you, a disease called coffee rust spoilt crops all over the country. Within a few years the trade here was finished. A man of enterprise has to be ready to fall back on alternatives. That's why it is wise to have many irons in the fire."

  "I suppose you are a very clever man."

  "A nice wifely comment."

  "You would always be in a position to take advantage."

  "I like to think so."

  "So now you have . . . what is it? Pearls, rubber, coconuts and tea."

  "Those are the main industries of this country. I was never satisfied with the plantation. It was not big enough. I wanted to extend. Now of course, although there are two, they will be as one. They are mine . . . both of them."

  "I thought one was mine."

  "My dearest Sarah, what's yours is mine."

  "And yours mine?"

  "Of course."

  "So I have a share in the pearl fisheries and the rest?"

  He caught me to him, laughing. "I have plans," he said. "Oh, it's good to be back. It'll be so much easier to work the two plantations as one. Seth can remain as manager over there. He's all right for that. But I shall see that the efficiency which was lacking before is now put into operation. I have been making plans for this for a long time."

  "For a long time," I echoed. "How did you know the plantation was coming to me?"

  "You're your father's daughter."

  "But surely as my sister had a husband who was managing it for my father. . ."

  '"But not very successfully."

  ''Clinton/' I said slowly, "you knew the plantation was coming to me."

  He looked at me steadily. "What if I did?"

  "How?"

  "Your father told me. Seth hadn't got quite the right ideas. He couldn't always manage the workers. Your father talked it over with me."

  "You really knew he was going to leave the plantation to me, didn't you?"

  "Yes."

  "And the idea was that you should marry me and take it over."

  "Something like that."

  "So that was why . . ."

  "Oh come now, Sarah, there's more to it than that. Haven't I shown you how much I enjoy being with you."

  "You enjoy the knowledge that through me you can get your hands on the plantation."

  "I would have had it sooner or later. I would have bought it when the time came. That would not be long the way things are. This was an easy way of doing it."

  I faced him and my eyes were blazing with rage. "So . . . you deliberately set out to marry me. It was all arranged. You and my father. . ."

  "He wanted it, of course. A man doesn't like to see a plantation he has worked for
years going downhill because his health is failing and he has to rely on a manager. He knew what it needed to pull it up and he knew I was the one to do it. He knew I'd have it in a few years in any case. You also needed protection. It seemed a good idea for me to marry you and keep it in the family."

  "You are calculating and despicable," I said.

  "Yes," he replied. "I know."

  Then he picked me up in his arms and laughed. "That's right," he said. "Protest. Fight. I like it that way."

  I awoke in the early morning. I was lying in the bed with the nets about me. He was there beside me, sleeping.

  I felt caught. I was in a net, which he had woven with his intrigues.

  So he had not really loved me. I was just another woman to him, and I knew there had been many and would probably be many more.

  I lay still. Soon the day would come. My first day in an alien land.

  Then I thought of Toby and I wondered where he was now. He would have gone back to India. Suppose I were with him. Perhaps I should be lying in a bed rather like this. Mesh at the windows ... a net over me. But how different that would be.

  The room seemed to close in on me and strangely enough out of the mists of my mind I seemed to hear a childish voice saying: "Is my Aunt Sarah going to heaven?"

  The words brought back the pricking feeling in my spine which I had felt when the child had said them. There seemed to be a warning in the air.

  Later in the morning Clytie drove over in a dog cart similar to the one we had used on the previous night. She had come, as promised, to take me back with her to the Ashington plantation. Seth had said that as the place belonged to me now I ought to know something about it.

  Clinton was in good spirits. He seemed to be completely unaffected by his revelation and to think that anything he did to offend me could be put right by his love-making. I was deeply hurt and had made up my mind that I was going to learn all I could about the growing of tea and let him see that the plantation for which he had married me was mine after all.

  My spirits rose a little as I drove off with Clytie. She looked slightly incongruous driving a trap, although she was not wearing a sari on this occasion but a light-blue silk dress. She had the appearance of a pretty doll who should do nothing but charm everyone with her dainty grace.