"You see how stubborn she is. Master Gomez?" Courtney, increasingly upset, finished his drink in a single gulp. "It so happens," the West Indian declared slowly, "that I'm travelling to St. Pierre on the Magee myself, week after next."
"Then we shall see each other on board, I'm sure," Prudence said sweetly. "I wish," she added, turning to her father, "that you'd stop making those fierce noises. I'm old enough to know what I'm doing, I'm spending my own money—and nothing can stop me!"
Jacques Gomez' eyes narrowed, and his mind raced. The girl could cause no end of trouble in Martinique when she discovered that Wade wasn't there, and if she went to Governor de Glaunville with her story, the ensuing inquiries could prove extremely embarrassing. But there was more than one way to silence even the most headstrong of young women, and Gomez felt increasingly pleased with an idea that had just occurred to him.
He would keep watch on Prudence during the journey, and it would be no problem to abduct her the moment she set foot on the island of Martinique, before the authorities even learned of her presence there. It would then be a simple matter to spirit her to Dominica and, as the cream of the jest, to make a gift of her to Marinus Boline. The Emperor enjoyed nothing more than a new wench, and Gomez, his portfolio already filled with documents that had assured the success of his trip, would win increased favor in Boline's eyes.
Of course, it would be necessary to make a few changes in the girl's appearance before Boline saw her—he preferred the sophisticated type, and Prudence's appeal was a trifle too fresh and wholesome for him. But that could be remedied, too—Melanie would be delighted to help. Gomez chuckled inwardly at the picture that presented itself to him. Ethan Wade's wife would be preparing his former sweetheart to be one of the Emperor's mistresses.
"Master Courtney," Gomez said, "in spite of your best efforts and the little assistance I've been able to offer, your daughter has made up her mind. It is plain that she is going to make this journey. Therefore, with your compliance, I suggest that we make the best of matters. If you're willing to put Mistress Prudence in my care and my charge, I shall happily assume full responsibility for her safety and welfare."
"That's very kind of you, sir," Courtney said gratefully, while Prudence, seeing the opposition to her plan weakening, smiled. "Knowing that our Prue was being looked after by such a good friend as you would be a great relief to her mother and me, I can tell you. If you're sure it would be no trouble or inconvenience to you—"
"I'm positive," Gomez said. "You may put your mind at rest. Mistress Prudence will be in the best of hands."
Thirteen
ETHAN WAS able to work without interruption, and no personal problems intruded to make difficulties for him. The chief reason for this was that Luki withdrew completely from his life; she had avoided him since the day he had rejected her, and a heavy-set woman of middle age now cooked his meals for him. Neither Dama nor Poda ever mentioned the incident in which Luki's pride had been so badly shattered, although they undoubtedly knew something of what had happened. Ethan was grateful to them for their tactful silence.
It was a relief to be able to put her out of his mind, and he now thought of nothing, day or night, but the mammoth task of creating a fighting force capable of defeating the disciplined troops of Marinus Boline. Judging by the rate of progress on the ships under construction, Ethan guessed that the Emperor would be ready to sail north in another four to six months. Hence the time of decision was rapidly approaching. He would need to strike soon, or he would lose his chance.
One afternoon Ethan noticed Poda approaching the clearing in which he was delivering a lecture to his braves. He saw from the expression on his friend's face that something out of the ordinary had taken place. He cut short his discussion, dismissed the warriors and joined his second-in-command.
"One who is the eyes and ears of Ethan at the camp of the devil-men has come to the village of Dama," the Carib said.
Ethan frowned and wondered if he could ever teach the Indians to adopt new techniques. "We've told our observers they aren't to leave their posts," he replied. "The man should have sent word to us through the relay messenger stations we've set up in the jungles."
"He who has come brings special news to Ethan. He did not desert his place, but he knew that Ethan would want to hear that which has happened from the mouth of him who saw it."
"All right, then. Where is he?"
"At the house of Ethan."
Somewhat mollified, Ethan walked with Poda to his hut, where a stocky young brave squatted on the floor, waiting for him. They exchanged formal greetings, then the warrior identified himself as the observer who kept watch on the beach which Boline reserved for his own arrivals and departures, and which only a few of his close associates were permitted to share with him. On the previous day, the Indian explained, Boline had left the island, accompanied by an entourage of eleven men. Then, not more than an hour or two later, another vessel had sailed close to the shore, and a most unusual group had come ashore.
"One who came was older than most of the devil-men. He wore fine clothes, and he was haughty, almost as haughty as the chief of the devil-men."
The new arrival, Ethan thought, was probably someone of consequence in Boline's hierarchy, but he couldn't see why it had been important for the observer to bring him this news in person.
"At the first, the woman was friendly to the man, and was not afraid of him," the Carib continued.
So a woman had come to Dominica, too—probably another of Boline's trollops. Ethan shrugged.
"For a little time she talked to the man, and he talked to her. Then she became afraid, and she ran from him. She ran to the trees, and she came close to my hiding place before they caught her. She was so close to me that I could see her clearly, and I could hear her words. She called in a loud voice." The native paused, then slowly and awkwardly repeated the English words that he had painfully memorized. "Here is what she cried: 'Ethan! Ethan! You promised to take me to Ethan!' "
A terrible fear took possession of Ethan, and for a long moment he could only stare in silence at the observer.
Poda, realizing that his friend had suffered a blow, murmured, "There are many men in other lands who are called Ethan. Is it not so?"
Ethan ignored the question and stared at the man who had brought him the news. "Describe this woman to me. Was she young or was she old?"
"She was young."
"Her hair—what color was it?"
"As black as the hair of the women of the Carib. But her skin was very fair. It was as white as a cloth on which the sun shines for many days."
"Did you see her eyes?" Ethan demanded harshly. "What color were her eyes?"
"They were not dark, as are the eyes of the women of the Carib." The brave searched for an accurate description. "They were the shade of the sea on a day when the sun is bright."
Suspicion became certainty in Ethan's mind. He felt numb, and it was almost impossible for him to think coherently; through some horrible chain of circumstances beyond his capacity to grasp. Prudence Courtney was in Dominica. And he knew all too well what would become of her when Marinus Boline saw her. It was possible, even probable, that one or more of the Emperor's lieutenants would seduce her, too, and the mental picture of the shame to which she would be subjected incensed him as he had never been angered before.
He leaped to his feet and began to pace up and down the length of the little hut, his fists clenched and his face contorted with rage. Poda looked at him and spoke to him, but the Indian had to repeat his words several times before Ethan heard them. "The woman captive of tlie devil-men is the woman of Ethan?"
"Yes!" Ethan cried. "I can't understand how they brought her here! She was in New York, and—" He broke off sharply; it was useless to explain Prudence's terrible predicament to people who were incapable of understanding its meaning.
Poda grasped enough of the situation, however, and rising to his feet, he smiled slowly. "Ethan does much for Poda and for the n
ation of Poda. Poda has long wished to pay to Ethan all that he owes. Now Poda will pay." Turning to the observer, he spoke quickly, in an undertone, and the man hurried from the hut.
Then Poda drew himself to his full height, and his eyes gleamed. "Poda will bring the woman of Ethan to the village of Dama. Poda promises this as surely as he knows the sun will rise over the mountains tomorrow, as surely as he knows that Santro-kri, the mightiest of gods, avenges himself against all who do evil."
A party of the most courageous and skilled warriors was hastily organized, and Poda led the group out of the village several hours before sunset. From that moment forward Ethan had nothing to do but wait, and the agony of suspense was excruciating. If only he had insisted on accompanying the rescue party he would have found at least a measure of relief in physical activity. So many things could go wrong, and he thought of every possible mishap. Worst of all, he found himself imagining what might be happening to Prudence at Boline's headquarters. Shortly after dark he wandered out into the night, and the Indians, respecting his desire for solitude, made no attempt to follow him as he walked to a rock from which he could observe the trail that led up to the village from the lowlands.
Through the long hours of the night, he attempted to work out the details of a military plan of action that would crush Boline, but after a time he gave up his efforts. He realized that tonight he could think only of Prudence. He was still stunned by the knowledge that she was in Dominica, and he would have to wait until he saw her to find out what had brought her to this remote and corrupt island.
His love for Prudence, he thought, was greater than he had ever imagined it to be. In the months of his captivity and his subsequent life with the Carib he had deliberately tried to shut her out of his mind, but he knew that he had only been fooling himself. He swore that when he was reunited with her he would never be separated from her again. Her brief experience at Boline's headquarters would give her a greater understanding of what had happened to him, and he felt certain that she would be tolerant when he explained to her how he had been tricked into a marriage to Melanie Leclerc.
Sometime after Boline's defeat, Ethan told himself wistfully, he and Prudence would return to New York, and when that time came they would find some way to have his marriage annulled. Then they could start a new life for themselves near Fort Schenectady, where the land was fertile and the future held an unlimited promise. But until then, they would be together—that was what counted.
The first streaks of dawn appeared abruptly in the sky, and Ethan's sense of tension became almost unbearable. If Poda failed, if the rescue effort misfired in some way and Prudence was killed, there would be no tomorrow.
The sun rose quickly, as it always did in the tropics, turning the sky violet then orange and finally bright blue. Ethan could stand the suspense no longer—he started off down the trail into the jungles. He walked steadily for a quarter of an hour, then he heard voices in the forests. He drew his bone-handled knife and started toward the noise. After a moment or two he heard men speaking in the Carib language, and, slipping his knife back into his belt, he began to run.
The first person he saw was Poda, and one look at the Indian's face was sufficient to tell him that the attempt had been successful. The Indian was smiling broadly, and when he saw his friend he sprinted forward. "As Poda promised," he said proudly, "the woman of Ethan is here."
Several more warriors appeared, and behind them was a girl whose dress of lilac satin was ludicrously unsuitable to the wild surroundings. Ethan started to laugh, joyously, then the sound froze on his lips as he found himself staring at—Melanie!
"Hello, darling," she said, amused in spite of her fatigue. "I can't tell you how flattered I am that you've gone to all this trouble for my sake."
Ethan, incapable of speech, looked at her in horror.
The Indians were bewildered, and Poda could not bring himself to believe that they had made a grave error. "This is the woman of Ethan," he insisted. "The woman speaks a few words of the tongue of the Carib, and she told Poda out of her own mouth that she is the woman of Ethan."
"But her hair is very fair, and you knew that the girl you were to bring to me has hair as dark as that of the women of the Carib!"
Poda's sense of confusion increased. "Poda knew this to be so, and he would not bring this woman at first. But the woman told Poda he was wrong. She said that Poda had not heard Ethan's orders as he should have heard them. She said she was the only woman in the camp of the devil-men, and she said that she was Ethan's woman. Then she smiled. And Poda believed her."
Melanie's cool appraisal of Ethan brought him to his right mind. She undoubtedly knew a great deal about Prudence, and he would force her to tell him everything. Then he would himself lead a party to rescue the woman he loved. "It isn't your fault," he told Poda. "This woman makes it her business to fool men. She devotes her life to it. But she can be useful. Bring her to my house."
Without waiting for a reply he walked back up the trail to the village. The Carib there, realizing that something was amiss, made no attempt to question him, and no one stopped him as he stalked to his hut. When he neared it he saw someone standing in the shadow of a clump of trees, and he recognized Luki, but she disappeared again, and he made no attempt to call out to her. There were far more vital matters on his mind.
He entered his hut, and a few moments later two of the warriors shoved Melanie inside and darted away. The braves were tired after their long night's work, and they had no further interest in the woman. It was plain to them that Ethan knew her, and what he did with her was up to him.
Melanie stood insolently, holding herself provocatively erect as she gazed slowly around the crude room. It was obvious that she had been spirited away by the Carib after she had attired herself with great care for the evening, and in spite of the rips and slashes cut in her clothes by the jungles, she still managed to look remarkably attractive. The bodice of her gown fitted so tightly that it showed every line of her breasts, waist and hips; the neck rested low on her shoulders, and was shaped in two petals which curled out and away from her breasts, then came to a deep point between them. But Ethan was coldly unappreciative of her beauty.
He felt an almost overpowering desire to kill her, and he had to exert great effort to bring his icy rage under control. "You damned—"
Melanie interrupted him with a laugh. "I was sure you were still alive, and I was right. Marinus kept insisting that you must be dead, but for once he was wrong."
"What's happened to Prudence Courtney?" His voice was harsh.
"She's a charming little wench, isn't she?" Melanie took two steps into the hut.
"What's happened to her?" he insisted.
"At the moment I imagine she's sleeping," Melanie replied easily. "And when she awakens I dare say the preparations will continue for her presentation to Marinus tomorrow night. I did what I could yesterday to help, but Jacques Gomez will have to do his best without me today. I seem to be otherwise engaged."
"Gomez! So that's how she—" Ethan broke off sharply as his anger flared anew. Advancing rapidly across the hut, he raised his hand to strike Melanie across the face, but she caught hold of his wrist. The smile faded from her full lips, and she spoke earnestly.
"If you mistreat me, you'll never see your precious little lady again, Ethan. There's an excellent reason that your savages made a mistake and brought me to you instead, but if you want to know the secret of where she's being held and how she can be reached, you won't find it out by abusing me."
He lowered his arm slowly. "Melanie," he said, "you're the most contemptible—"
"Is that the proper way to address your wife, darling?"
Ethan regarded her intently. "I wonder if you know what Prudence Courtney and I mean to each other."
The smile reappeared on her lips. "I've learned, since her arrival, what you once meant to each other. I heard a portion of the story from Jacques, and I saw her reaction myself—when he introduced me as Mistre
ss Ethan Wade. Her attitude was—rather startling." Melanie paused, studying him. Plainly it gave her pleasure to taunt him. "I'm quite safe here in this wilderness with you, darling. Even if I give you the information you want—and you're successful in spiriting her away from the Imperial headquarters, I'm certain she'll want nothing more to do with you. She's not going to forget that you're a married man, although you seem to be having great difficulty in remembering it yourself."
Ethan realized that Melanie had probably poisoned Prudence's mind against him and that Gomez had done more than his share of twisting the truth, too. If Prudence was to be "presented" to Marinus Boline tomorrow evening, as Melanie had indicated, it would be to the advantage of Gomez to soften her so she would be more amenable to the Emperor's advances. And there could be no better way to destroy her integrity than to convince her that the man she loved preferred another woman.
There would be time enough to tell Prudence the truth, however, after he brought her to safety. His first task was to rescue her, and he was not going to let anything deflect him from that goal. "I'll take my chances with Prudence when I see her," he said.
"Even though I'm your wife?"
"I don't consider you to be my wife," he declared curtly.
Melanie's violet eyes showed no alarm. "It's very natural that you should hate me, particularly as you've never heard my side of all that happened."
"I don't hate you, and I wish you no harm. I don't believe I'd find much satisfaction in revenging myself at the expense of a woman. But it's only fair to tell you that in my opinion our marriage vows aren't binding in any way, and I intend to get an annulment whenever I can."
"That wouldn't be easy—without my consent, you know." A fleeting, seductive smile touched Melanie's lips for an instant, then she became a trifle pensive. "Perhaps you wouldn't judge me so harshly if you understood a little of how I've felt."
Ethan made no reply.
"I admit to you—freely—that when Marinus first proposed that I help him trick you, I made no objections. There was no reason why I should. I was in his power, and I'd never seen you. After I met you, I felt differently. I begged him not to go through with his scheme, but he wouldn't listen to me. Then, after our first night together, I was anxious to marry you. I—I'd fallen in love with you." A delicate flush tinted her cheeks, but her expression remained sober. "And you'll remember that on our wedding day I warned you not to oppose Marinus. I begged you to obey him, not fight him. Isn't that true?"
Devil's Prize Page 14