The Dark Secret of Josephine

by Dennis Wheatley

  By that time the party was ready to set off; so they all proceeded down the track in single file, continuing to call to Clarissa as they went. It was not until they were within fifty yards of the gully that they caught a faint reply. Halting, they anxiously discussed what they should do. The scared note in Clarissa’s voice as she now shouted to them made it clear that for some reason she had blundered off the track and got hopelessly lost in the pitch dark forest. But the faintness of her cries also made it clear that she was some way off, and for any of them to plunge in after her was to risk getting lost too.

  Fergusson suggested that several of them should go in ten yards apart, but the denseness of the vegetation was such that even in formation they must soon have lost touch with one another; so Roger would not hear of it. After a moment’s thought he said:

  ‘The safest course would be to guide her back by continuing to call her; but that may prove a long and weary business, as she will probably blunder about all over the place before she gets near enough to be certain of the direction the calls are coming from. But there is no point in us all remaining here; so you had best continue on your way while I remain to do the shouting. We still have most of the night before us, and our chance of getting away in a boat unseen will be all the greater if we wait until our enemies are asleep. You might even snatch an hour or two’s badly needed sleep yourselves; but see to it that you take it in turns, and that two or more of you are constantly on watch against surprise. The best place to spend the time of waiting would be on the edge of the forest where the track comes out on to the beach. I shall be able to find you there without difficulty, and I’ll join you as soon as I can.’

  Again the others agreed that his proposals were sound, and the thought of a few hours’ sleep was more than welcome to all of them; so they resumed their weary trudging and left him there.

  At intervals he kept on calling to Clarissa and gradually her replies grew louder. After twenty minutes she was near enough for him to encourage her. Soon afterwards there came a loud rustling of the leaves close by him in the darkness. He could just make out her form as she came towards him. Next moment she gave a gasp, flung her arms round his neck and sobbed:

  ‘Oh Roger! Thank God you’re safe!’

  For the first time in days he laughed. ‘Safe, m’dear. But it is you whose safety sent us near distraction some half hour back. What crazy notion impelled you to separate yourself from us and get lost in this nightmarish jungle?’

  ‘I came to seek you,’ she murmured. ‘You remained behind down by the gully for so long. I feared that some ill had befallen you. But I blundered in among the trees and could not find my way out again.’

  ‘Poor child,’ he soothed her. ‘It must have been terrible for you.’

  ‘I am no child,’ she exclaimed with sudden anger. ‘And I sought you because I love you.’

  Dumbfounded by this declaration he could find no words to reply, as she hurried on: ‘There! I’ve said it now. But I don’t give a rap! If you’d had half an eye you’d have seen it long ago. You’re all that a man should be, and I’ve loved you since the first moment I set eyes on you.’

  ‘Clarissa!’ he protested sharply. ‘You must not say such things.’

  ‘Do you not think I know it!’ she cried bitterly. ‘I owe Amanda a debt I never can repay for rescuing me from that dreary life with my Aunt Jane. Oh, I am ashamed as never a woman was; yet I can’t help it!’

  Roger knew only too well that in such matters most men and most women too, are the playthings of their own passions, so he reproved her only by saying gently: ‘Even so you had no right to speak of it, knowing me to be happily married to your cousin.’

  ‘Ah, that’s the tragedy!’ There were now tears in her voice. I know that you’re not. Not happily married, I mean. I’ll vow you’ve been unfaithful to Amanda more than once, and I know for a fact that you recently had a hectic love affair when you were in France. More, ’tis common knowledge that while you were away Amanda was unfaithful to you, so that you were near separating from her on your return.’

  ‘Who told you these things?’

  ‘No matter, but I know them.’

  Roger pulled her arms from about his neck and his tone suddenly became harsh. ‘Do you think then, that by setting your cap at me, you can seduce me from Amanda?’

  ‘I would I could,’ came the quick retort. ‘But even if you’d have me I’d be bound out of common decency to say you nay. Amanda is my friend and benefactress. I’d rather die than bear the shame of having betrayed her trust in me. Yet I know you to be a lonely man at heart, and were matters otherwise I’d stop at nothing to have you for my own.’

  Again he was at a loss for adequate words to chill this desperate youthful passion; but he did his best, by saying: ‘Believe me, you’d regret it soon enough. ’Tis clear that you have heard tales of my doings while abroad, and invested me with a glamour for which there is no warrant. I am no braver or better than the average man and, as you have found out for yourself, considerably worse as a husband.’

  That I will not believe. But for your courage and resource today I’d have been forced to the life of an unpaid whore in a brothel. To see you fight is a thing to marvel at, and that it was even in small part for myself made my love for you ten times stronger. As for your frailties, who in this world is without them? And did you but love any woman with all your heart she would wean you from them.’

  ‘Listen, Clarissa,’ he said a trifle hoarsely. ‘’Tis understandable that you may have formed a wrong impression. But Amanda and I would never have drifted apart had I not been so long abroad. Now that we are reunited I love her as much as I am capable of loving any woman.’

  ‘Since you protest it, I’ll not argue that. In any case, I have already told you that my last thought would be to endeavour to take you from her.’

  Then I beg you to be advised by me. Do your utmost to free your mind from this infatuation, which can but be embarrassing to us both. These early loves are rarely lasting, and you are still so young…’

  ‘Young!’ she broke in impatiently. There are no more than eight years between us. I am eighteen, and at that age many of my friends are not only married but about to bear their second child.’

  Roger knew that she was right, but persisted. ‘I meant only that you have ample years ahead of you before you need give your heart to the love of a lifetime.’

  ‘I have already given it to you.’

  He sadly shook his head, ‘In that case I can only say how deeply I regret that you should have fastened your affections on such an unsatisfactory and unworthy object.’ His tone grew firmer, as he added: ‘And now, it is only right that I should let you know that I feel in honour bound to terminate, as soon as possible, the situation that your declaration has brought about. It would be indelicate both to Amanda and yourself for me to keep you with us.’

  ‘D’you mean that you intend to send me home?’ she cried in dismay.

  He felt a sudden impulse to laugh, but swiftly suppressed it and replied: ‘At the moment I am in no position to send anyone anywhere; but should we succeed in getting away I am sure that for your own sake it would be the best thing to do.’

  ‘Oh Roger, I beg you not to.’ she pleaded. ‘I never meant to say anything. And if I hadn’t you wouldn’t have known. All this came out only because I was overwrought. You see, until I got near enough to realise it was you calling me I feared you dead and … and, my relief at finding you alive proved too much for me.’

  Moved by her distress, he said with mental reservations: ‘Very well then, we’ll not pursue the subject further. The others must have reached the beach ere this, and the sooner we join them the better. Then you can snatch a couple of hours sleep before we make the attempt we have planned to get away in the Circe.’

  ‘Must we?’ she asked. ‘Go yet, I mean; if there’s no immediate hurry. I could drop with fatigue from having staggered about for so long among those awful bushes. Can we not rest here a whi
le before making this new effort. I would so much rather.’

  Roger considered for a moment, then he shrugged. ‘As you wish, but we must not remain here above an hour, otherwise our friends will become anxious about us.’

  ‘Oh thank you,’ she sighed. Then backing away she added: ‘There’s a fallen tree trunk here. I stumbled into it just now. It will serve to rest our backs against.’

  They fumbled about in the dark until they found the tree trunk, and sat down side by side. After a few minutes she said: ‘Roger, are you angry with me because I told you that I love you?’

  ‘No,’ he replied. ‘I would that you had refrained; but no man could be insensible to such a compliment, or so churlish as to think less of anyone because they had admitted that they held him dear.’

  ‘Some would, I think; but not you, dear Roger, for you are kind as well as brave.’

  To that he made no reply. Silence and the deep night then engulfed them. It was over thirty-six hours since, aboard the Circe, Roger had woken from his last proper sleep, and during them his vitality had been drained both mentally and physically. Before he was aware of it he was fast asleep.

  He was woken by soft fingers stroking his stubbly cheek, and roused to find himself in a woman’s arms with his head pillowed on her breast. As he started up memory flooded back to him, and he realised that he was in the forest with Clarissa.

  The darkness hid her smile as she murmured: ‘Never in all my life have I been so reluctant to do a thing as when I bought myself to wake you; but the night moves on.’

  ‘How long have you let me sleep?’ he cried apprehensively.

  ‘Two hours; three at the most,’ she replied with a shrug.

  ‘Thank God it was not more!’ he exclaimed, scrambling to his feet. ‘Are you certain? Did you not also sleep?’

  She stood up beside him. ‘No. I remained awake to wake you should you sleep too long. But don’t grudge me those hours, Roger. They are my treasure, and no one can now ever take them from me.’

  Touched, angry, embarrassed, he could find nothing to say but ‘Come, we must get down to the others. We had better tell them that I went into the forest to find you and got lost as well.’

  She laughed. ‘Tell any fib you please.’ ’Twill form another secret bond between us. But I vow that I’ll give you no cause to blush for it.’

  Somewhat reassured by this evidence of her intention to refrain from further demonstrations of her feelings for him, he took her by the arm and they walked as fast as they could down to the gully.

  While Roger slept the moon had come up and they found the clearing now flooded with silvery light. By it, as they crossed the plank, they could see the still bodies of the men who had died that evening, and were even able to identify some of them. Roger could not repress a shudder as he glanced at the dark pit of the now silent pool, then he hurried Clarissa across the open space to the black tunnel where the path entered it on its far side. Plunging into the gloom again, they made their way down the slope until they were met by a cautious challenge.

  The voice was Fergusson’s, and as soon as he was certain who they were he uttered an exclamation of thankfulness at seeing them again. Most of the párty were asleep, but Kilick was also on watch a little further off where the path opened out on to the beach, and he now joined them.

  Roger quickly said his piece about having got lost himself while searching for Clarissa, then asked how the prospects looked for getting away, and they gave him their report. The pirates had spent the early part of the night carousing in the house, but evidently they suspected that the escaped prisoners might attempt to get away by sea, as a sentry, who had been relieved every hour, had been posted on the boats.

  That was bad news, yet Roger felt that the attempt must be made all the same. When he asked the time they told him that they judged it to be past two in the morning; which meant that there was less than three hours of darkness left. Rousing Dan he held a quick consultation with him, and they decided that to delay much longer might lessen their chances of success. Georgina, Roger learned, was still unconscious but for the moment showed no alarming symptoms. Fergusson woke the others and warned them to get ready, while Roger and Dan debated how best to tackle the sentry.

  Owing to the bright moonlight they thought it unlikely that either of them could creep up behind him and take him completely by surprise; so they concerted measures by which they hoped to overcome him between them. Dan was to do the creeping up to him, as near as he thought he could get undetected. Roger was to approach as though coming from the house, and engage the man’s attention. Then Dan was to rush him from behind.

  Roger watched Dan squirm away across the sand. Then, having given him ten minutes’ start, he set off himself. Keeping in the deep shadow of the trees that fringed the beach, he headed for the house; but when he was half way along the hutments that formed the slaves’ quarters he altered course, and calmly walked down the beach towards the sentry. The man halted, turned until he was within twenty feet, then asked a shade uncertainly: ‘Qui êtes vous?’

  ‘Je suis Henri,’ replied Roger, that being the commonest French name he could think of.

  ‘Henri?’ repeated the man in a puzzled tone, and lowered the musket he was carrying from his shoulder to the ready. ‘Henri qui?’

  By that time Roger was only ten feet from him, and did not reply. There came a sudden scuffling in the sand behind the sentry. He half turned, but thought better of it, and aimed his musket at Roger. As Dan ran in Roger dropped flat. The sentry went down without a sound under a swipe from Dan’s sabre, but not before he had fired his musket.

  They had failed to prevent the alarm being given, so now everything hung on speed. As the report echoed round the bay Roger sprang to his feet unhurt and ran to the nearest boat. Dan was already on her other side. Seizing its gunwale, they strove to drag it over the few yards of sand that separated it from the water; but it was a heavy whaler and its weight proved too much for them.

  Within a minute their friends came racing up to their assistance. Three great heaves and the boat was afloat. Some of them scrambled in while others lifted the make-shift stretcher aboard on which Georgina lay. Seizing the oars they began to row frantically towards the Circe.

  Lights were already appearing in the house. Shouts soon came from it. There were four other boats on the beach and any or all of them might be used for pursuit. Success or failure now depended on how quickly they could get aboard the Circe, haul up her anchor and set a few sails.

  Ten minutes’ hard rowing brought them below her counter. No lights had appeared in her so they had good hopes that she was deserted. Dan was already standing up in the bow of the whaler holding her painter, ready to make her fast before they clambered aboard. Suddenly there came a crash of musketry from out of her broken stern windows. Kilick gave a shout and Roger a loud groan. The one had been hit in the shoulder and the other in the thigh.

  In the stillness that followed the crash there came the rich laugh of a woman, then Lucette’s voice cried from the dark windows above: ‘You fools! Had you not the sense to credit me with expecting you to have a try for the Circel. Pull back to shore and surrender, or come aboard to be slaughtered. The choice is yours.’

  Fearful that as soon as the muskets could be reloaded another burst of fire would rake the boat, the men in her who held the oars were backing water hard. Roger was at her tiller and, although half fainting with pain, retained the presence of mind to turn her bow. With all their strength the rowers then pulled away from the ship. When the second fusillade came they were far enough off for the ill-aimed bullets to fall short and splash harmless into the water.

  As soon as they were out of danger the rowers ceased their frantic exertions and lay, panting, on their oars. There followed a hurried council to decide what their next move should be. An anxious scanning of the beach showed that only a handful of pirates had come down on to it. The rest, presumably, were still sunk in a drunken slumber, and those who had t
urned out appeared to be engaged in a heated argument. It looked as if, owing to their small numbers, some of them were averse to manning a boat for immediate pursuit. Nevertheless, should the escapers attempt to land it was certain that they would be attacked, and at any time the pirates might receive reinforcements from the house. To take the Circe by assault was out of the question; and lights now appearing in the pirates’ barque showed that Lucette had had the forethought to man her also with a skeleton crew.

  It seemed their only course was to struggle ashore among the mangroves that fringed the water along the outer arms of the bay, and again take to the forest, until Wilson said: ‘Anyhow, we’ve gotten the boat. Why shouldn’t we make for Saint-Domingue in her? It’s no much more than ten miles across the strait.’

  As no one had any better suggestion to offer, the American’s proposal was agreed to, and they began to pull steadily towards the entrance to the lagoon. Meanwhile Fergusson did what he could for the wounded. Kilick’s injury was not serious, as the ball had only scored a shallowfurrow through the flesh above his shoulder. But that which had hit Roger had embedded itself in his thigh; so he had to submit to the agonising operation of having it extracted. Fergusson did not think that the thigh-bone had been fractured but, as Roger could bear his weight on it only with great pain, that it had probably been severely bruised. In any case it looked as if the wound would render him hors de combat for some time to come, and they gloomily made him as comfortable as they could beside Georgina on the bottom boards in the sternsheets of the boat.

  After half an hour’s rowing they rounded the western point of the bay. As they passed out of it there were still no signs that their enemies meant to follow them; but on reaching the open sea they were confronted with an unexpected cause for dismay. A strong current was running dead against them and, pull as hard as they would, they could make only heartbreakingly slow progress towards Saint-Domingue.

  When dawn came a little over an hour later it revealed them to one another as a haggard and miserable party. They had found that there was no water in the boat and no provisions. Most of them were suffering from injuries of one kind of another, and two of them lay in the stern seriously wounded. Soon the sun would be blazing down on them without respite, burning and blistering them with its terrible heat. And, now that day had come, should the pirates choose to set sail either in the Circe or their barque in pursuit of them, nothing could save them from recapture.