The Rape Of Venice rb-6

by Dennis Wheatley

  When they all went ashore the following morning, Clarissa was bitterly disappointed to find so few shops and in them such a limited choice of materials for her trousseau. But Roger bought for her everything suitable they could find, and the Governor, who had received them most cordially, later procured half a dozen needlewomen who set to work on garments that she had to design for herself.

  The Governor had sent messages to the Captains of all ships in the convoy inviting them to dine that afternoon, and to bring with them a few of their principal passengers. Captain Finch selected the Beaumont’s, Roger, Clarissa and, on account of her engagement, Winters, whom he would not normally have included. This big party, including a dozen of the leading colonists whom the Governor had also asked, numbered nearly seventy people; so the meal provided was a cold buffet, but such a gathering provided a delightful change.

  Among the colonists were a couple named Marais. Both were descended from old French families through Huguenot settlers who had come out to the Cape a hundred years earlier, and they owned one of the best estates in the Colony. Clarissa was introduced to them and when the topic of her marriage came up, both the Governor and the Marais agreed that it was quite out of the question for her to be married from, or spend the first days of her honeymoon at; one of the inns in the town, as even the best of them was hopelessly primitive. Everyone was anxious to be helpful to such a lovely bride; so it was decided that she should be married from the Residence by the Governor's Chaplain, and that afterwards the newly-​weds should occupy the guest wing of the Marais's comfortable home until the Minerva was ready to sail again.

  Captain Finch had already given them to understand that watering and re-​provisioning the ship would take about ten days, and Clarissa had secretly made up her mind to make her stay on land with her bridegroom as brief as possible; so, in spite of Sidney Winter’s pressing, she insisted that her trousseau would not be finished for a week, and the day of the wedding was fixed accordingly. Clarissa then asked the Governor's pretty daughter to act as a second bridesmaid; after which the ladies withdrew to further elaborate plans for the wedding.

  As the men circulated the wine, the talk turned as usual to affairs in Europe and the progress of the war. A frigate that had left Portsmouth ten days after the Minerva sailed had reached Cape Town two days earlier; so it was the Governor who gave them the latest news instead of receiving it.

  In June, the armies of Generals Moreau and Jourdan had launched a new campaign against the Austrians and crossed the Rhine, threatening to overrun Swabia. In Italy their colleague, General Buonaparte, was laying siege to Mantua, but it was said that the Emperor Francis had mustered a great army of Austrians, Hungarians and Tyrolese to send to the relief of this all-​important fortress.

  Before Roger left England, he had heard only vague rumours of an abortive conspiracy in Paris led by a man named Babeuf; since then a fairly full account of it had come to hand. After the fall of Robespierre, a strong reaction against the extremists of the Revolution had set in. Only a handful of the most notorious had been sent to the guillotine; a few, such as Tallien and Freron, who had taken an active part in pulling the 'Incorruptible' down, had by so doing saved their own skins and positions as leaders; but all over France the smaller ex-​terrorists had been deprived of their offices and were being proscribed and hunted by the people of the middle-​classes who had suffered at their hands.

  In Paris these blood-​stained criminals congregated regularly at the Pantheon Club to discuss measures for their mutual protection, and their numbers had been swollen to over four thousand by other ex-​Jacobins being driven from the Provinces seeking refuge in the capital.

  As Roger had known, since it was his business to do so, there existed a secret club within the club, which was known as the Societe des Egaux. Among its most prominent members were 'Gracchus' Babeuf, the editor of the Tribune du Peuple, Antonelle, an ex-​juryman of the Revolutionary Tribunal, and Jean-​Antoine Rossignol who, as a General of the Convention, had ordered whole villages in La Vende to be burnt with their inhabitants in them. These, and others of their kidney, had planned yet another revolution, in which the Directors and the Corps Legislatif were to be murdered and a Government of Anarchists set up.

  They had endeavoured to win over the six-​thousand-​strong Legion of Police which was stationed at Grenelle, and was also largely composed of ex-​terrorists. In May, owing to its semi-​mutinous condition, the Legion had been broken up and one of the agents employed to corrupt it informed Carnot of the conspiracy. The Directory had acted promptly and on the eve of the insurrection had arrested Babeuf and his friends; so temporarily, at least, the capital had been saved from further bloodshed, and the Whites were still in the ascendant.

  While listening to the rather garbled account of this conspiracy, Roger felt as though he were being told of events in another world. He had known both Antonelle and Rossignol and, little more than six months ago, had been on intimate terms with Barras, Carnot, Dubois-​Crance and a dozen others of the 'moderates' who had now taken over the leadership of the Revolution; but during the long voyage he had hardly given them a thought. General Buonaparte's Italian campaign and Mr. Pitt's idea of securing the Serene Republic as an ally had, too, soon lost interest for him, simply because he had no possible chance of learning how matters were progressing.

  During the next few days the company made up excursions to see the sights in the vicinity, riding through wooded country in which there were many trees and plants strange to them, to the vineyards at Constantia and to False Bay, and making the ascent of Table Mountain in basket chairs borne by native bearers.

  On September 14th Clarissa was duly married to Sidney Winters. Roger, with a reluctance which he found it difficult to conceal, gave her away and, with a genuine good will inspired by secret pity, did his utmost now to show friendliness to the bridegroom. A guard of honour was formed by Clarissa's officer admirers, Roger paid for the reception at the Residence, to which all the Minerva's passengers were invited, and stood free beer to the troops and crew. Half the town also turned out, so as the newly-​wed couple drove away they were cheered by over a thousand people, and by six o'clock in the evening the greater part of them, both inside as well as outside the Residence, were well on their way to getting drunk. Except for Roger, and a few more thoughtful people, like the Beaumont’s, who feared that a union between parties so divergent in age and circumstances could bring no lasting happiness, the whole affair was a roaring success.

  On the evening of the 16th the Minerva sailed again. That afternoon, on coming aboard, Clarissa had greeted everyone with a good display of cheerfulness, but her face was pale and behind her smile Roger saw signs of strain in her blue eyes. She went straight to the double cabin that she was now to share with Winters, and it was not until the ship had sailed that Roger managed to get her a little apart from the other passengers for a few moments.

  As they stood side by side watching the little town beneath the great mountain gradually becoming more indistinct in the evening light, he asked in a low voice:

  'Is all well with you? For the past forty-​eight hours I have been consumed with anxiety on your account. Though I could not stop you, short of making us both notorious for the rest of our lives by creating some frightful scene, I've cursed myself a thousand times for letting you carry out your plan."

  'I hated every moment of it,' she replied in an equally low tone. 'He is uncouth beyond anything I had imagined. But I have no right to complain. I brought it on myself.'

  'What happened?' Roger snapped out the question. 'Did he go back on his agreement with you? If so, I'll wring his neck and throw him overboard.'

  'Be careful!' she whispered. 'Keep your voice low or someone will overhear us. No; he did not attempt to break his word. On the first night he could not have, even if he had had a mind to. After we had dined with the Marais he became drunk as a hog and was, incapable of even undressing himself.'

  'You must blame me fo
r that,' Roger murmured. 'I feared that the excitement of having you to himself in a bedroom for the first time might prove too much for him; so I laced his drink at the reception. After that it was odds on that, unless he stuck to water with his dinner, more wine would bowl him over.'

  'Then I'm grateful to you. It saved me during the first night from anything more unpleasant than his being sick on the floor, then snoring till morning like a grampus!'

  'But what of the second?'

  'I have survived it, so I beg you not to worry; but it was a hideous experience. He maintained, fairly I suppose, that my bargain with him that we should not consummate our marriage for a year did not debar him from kissing me, and taking other liberties. I submitted for a while with the best grace that I could, then evaded his further unpleasant attentions by pretending I had the vapours. But it is his habits I find so repulsive. He slobbers, belches and conceals nothing of himself, maintaining that a husband and wife when alone should be natural with one another.'

  'Clarissa! This cannot be allowed to continue.' Roger's blue eyes had gone a shade darker than usual, and his finger nails were digging into the palms of his hands. 'I feel such shame for this business as I have never felt before in my whole life. How we ever allowed ourselves to get into such a ghastly tangle, I cannot think.'

  'It is my fault. I should never have pursued you onto the Minerva.'

  'In the first place, yes. But I am the man of the party, and am supposed to have some brains. I should never have let matters come to this.'

  'You could not help it. You offered to marry me before we landed in Cape Town. You could not have done more.'

  'I could have disclosed the truth to Winters, then sworn to cut his gizzard out if he breathed one word of it. Had he known your reason for accepting him he would have backed out of his engagement. I wish to God I'd thought of that.'

  'Well, as you didn't, I've made my bed and must lie on it.'

  'No! There's a way out yet. It's not too late for us to land again in Cape Town. I'll see Captain Finch and pay him whatever he asks to have a boat lowered to take us back there.'

  'Roger, no! That would indeed be madness. I am Mrs. Winters now. The scandal you have so long sought to avoid would be ten times as great as if we had been discovered as lovers before my marriage. It would stink to high heavens, and we'd never live it down. Should you do as you suggest, I'll refuse to come with you. For me the worst is already over. I'll not have to share a double bed with him again. Things will be easier for me now we'll occupy a cabin and sleep in separate bunks. I warn you, I won't come, I swear it.'

  At that moment Winters came waddling up to them, bringing an abrupt end to their private conversation.

  After a few days, Life on shipboard settled down to normal. Clarissa's old admirers soon got over the shock they had sustained by their divinity's strange choice of a husband, and once more clustered around, discreetly flirting with her as they would have with any other pretty young married woman. Winters looked on, beaming with self-​satisfaction and the pride of ownership. Roger, too, frequently joined the group. Previously he had been ultra cautious from fear that an unguarded word or glance might arouse suspicions that he and Clarissa had some secret understanding; but now she was just married such an idea would have been so preposterous that he felt it safe to spend much more time in her company.

  Having rounded the Cape, the Minerva spent close on a fortnight beating up the east coast of Africa and through the Mozambique Channel. After clearing the northern tip of Madagascar she altered course to north-​east, in order to pick up the favourable south-​west winds that would carry her in the direction of Ceylon; but now, for the first time during the voyage, she met with really rough weather.

  For two days she battled against a heavy cross-​sea. The buffet of each great wave made her shudder from stem to stern, and she rolled atrociously so that any article left unsecured, even for a few moments, fell and smashed, or was flung across the cabins. At times there were downpours of torrential rain, which blotted out from view the other heaving ships in the convoy. Captain Finch took charge himself and was almost permanently up on the poop. The food at his table deteriorated sadly to snacks of cold meat and ship's biscuits, for those who could still keep food down.

  Roger was not among them. Quite early in the storm, seasickness overcame him and for the next few days he lay wretchedly ill in his bunk. On the second day most of the passengers, including Winters, who had stuck out the first night also succumbed. Clarissa was one of the few who remained unaffected. She was something more than a splendid sailor; she actually enjoyed a storm at sea. During a hurricane on the way to the West Indies, she had had herself lashed to a stanchion on deck, so that she could feel the wind tearing at her hair and the rain driving into her face. Now, she staggered from cabin to cabin, doing what she could to look after her husband, Roger, the Beaumont’s, the Armitages and one of the sailors who had missed his footing on a ladder, fallen and broken his leg.

  It was on the third day that tragedy overtook them. In mid-​morning a sudden squall, more violent than any they had yet encountered, snapped off the main top-​gallant and it came crashing down on the poop. By the most evil chance it smashed in the left side of the Wheel House, demolishing the wheel, injuring the Quartermaster and killing Captain Finch. Thus, at one stroke, the ship was put temporarily out of control and deprived of her most capable officer.

  Immediately, she began to veer round sideways on to the great white-​crested waves. It was the watch of the First Mate, Mr Evans. In a gallant attempt to save the situation he ran towards the emergency steering wheel at the stern of the vessel. For many hours no one had been able to move about the deck without using a succession of hand-​holds. Evans paid the penalty of his rashness. He was flung off his feet and fractured his skull against a chicken coop.

  The Third Mate then took charge. Having sent another Quartermaster to the stern, he had all hands piped on deck and ordered the taking in of the remaining sails with which the ship had been fighting the storm. But by now the Minerva had swung right round; the sails went slack then suddenly billowed out again with reports like cannon. Two of them were rent from top to bottom and their canvas flapped wildly on either side like streaming banners in the howling wind.

  A moment later there came an awful rending sound. The foremast had snapped off low down. It fell across the fo’c’sle, its yards, spars and rigging forming an incredible tangle, and killing or injuring another half-​dozen sailors.

  A part of the crew managed to haul in the mainsail, while the rest strove to clear the fallen mast. Its upper part dragged in the water, giving the ship a terrifying list to port; but the troops were called up to help. Under the direction of the Second Mate, Mr. Garner, who had now come on deck, and the boatswain, a hundred desperate hands wielding axes, cutlasses and knives managed to hack through scores of ropes.

  The huge broken column of timber slid overboard and the ship righted herself.

  She was now running before the storm under bare, broken masts, and soon all the other ships in the convoy were lost to view. Her emergency wheel in the stern was manned, but no use could be made of it until the storm lessened and it was safe to attempt to turn her back onto her course by hoisting sail again. There were now a dozen casualties in the sick-​bay and wreckage still littered all the fore part of the deck. During the afternoon it was gradually cleared, but the tempest showed no sign of abating and the weighty foretop had stove in the port side of the fo’c’sle. From time to time waves broke over the bow and the water rushed down the gaping hole, rendering the crew's quarters untenable, and necessitating the manning of the pumps.

  That night Mr. Garner, who was now acting Commander, told the army officers and the few civilian passengers who were not helpless in their cabins from seasickness, that the position was dangerous but not desperate. The ship was being driven at great speed north-​westwards, back towards the coast of Africa, but it was still several hundred miles distant, so
there was no risk of her being driven ashore. Efforts to get a sail over the wrecked section of the fo’c’sle had failed, so water was gaining in the fore hold, but not to an alarming degree. He had hopes that the storm would have blown itself out by morning, and, if so, all would be well.

  But as the hours wore on, it increased in fury. All through the night the helpless ship was rushed up mountainous waves to crash through their tops and come slithering down into seemingly bottomless gulfs. Each time she breasted one its spume hissed through her rigging, and now and then a following sea curled right up over her poop to come cascading down into her well, filling it for some moments waist high with water Her timbers groaned, her rigging screamed, the hundreds of tons of water hit her decks with a boom like thunder. It seemed to all the passengers, and the wretched troops crowded vomiting on the lower deck, that every time the ship plunged downward would be the last, and that she could not possibly survive till morning.

  Yet, when morning came, she was still afloat and the tempest had perceptibly moderated. The waves were no longer white-​crested; a heavy swell now made them look like vast rolling downs, with a blue-​green glassy surface; the wind had ceased to tear wildly at severed ropes and the remnants of torn sails. But things were far from well with the Minerva.

  During the night she had shipped a great deal of water, three of her boats had been stove in and some of her cargo had shifted. She was much lower in the water than she should have been, again had a list to port, and was down at the head. All through the forenoon, relays of men worked frantically at the pumps while others laboured feverishly lashing together gratings and spars to form rafts. Despite all efforts, the level of the water in the holds rose steadily.

  The officers came to the conclusion that the cargo which had come adrift must have struck the ship's side with such force that she had sprung a leak, but the water had now risen in the holds to a height that made it impossible for the carpenters to get at the seat of the trouble.