The White Witch of the South Seas

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The White Witch of the South Seas Page 38

by Dennis Wheatley


  On looking over his group before they had left harbour he had seen that, in addition to firearms, four out of six of them had machetes slung at their waists. Only two of them could speak a few words of English; so, instead of trying to explain his intention, he snatched the machete from the man nearest him, ran forward and began to slash frantically at the wall of cactus. The others similarly armed, shouting their war-cry and waving their sharp blades, immediately came to his assistance.

  By then pandemonium had broken out in the village. Yells of defiance mingled with the barking of dogs and the screams of terrified women. Single shots rang out in swift succession, but no bursts of machine-gun fire, as James had been anxious to avoid a massacre and had given orders that the few men so armed should not use their weapons except in an emergency.

  Five minutes, which seemed an age to Gregory, went by before he and his men had succeeded in hacking a gap in the cactus wide enough for them to get through without their limbs being torn or pierced by the hundreds of three-inch-long spikes as stiff as steel needles.

  Leading the way again, he dashed between several smaller bures until he reached the rear of Roboumo’s big, high-roofed house. A single sharp push on the back entrance door showed that it was not locked or bolted. Thrusting it open, he almost fell inside, to find himself at the back of the White Witch’s cage. She was lying on her big divan, her face turned away from him and half hidden by her long, white hair.

  Three elderly native women were seated cross-legged on the floor on the far side of the cage. As Gregory burst in, they sprang to their feet. For a moment they stared at him in terror and amazement. He lifted his Sten gun as though about to fire at them through the cage. Screaming, they turned and, tumbling over one another, fled through the tapa-cloth curtains.

  Gregory had supposed the White Witch to be asleep; but, to his surprise, the screams of the women did not rouse her. Raising his machete, he slashed at the bamboo bars of the big cage until he had cut a hole large enough to get through. On a low table beside her divan stood a mug. Picking it up, he sniffed. It had a strange, strong odour and still gave off faintly the type of fumes one associates with neat spirits. That confirmed his guess that before Roboumo had left the bure, fearing that the attackers might break in and question his prisoner, he had forced her to swallow some potent drug that would cause her to fall into a coma.

  Turning towards her, he looked down into her face. His eyes widened. For a moment he held his breath, then let it go with a sharp, rasping sound; but for a full minute he remained there, staring at the lined but still beautiful features framed in long, dead-white hair. Suddenly pulling himself together, he stooped, swiftly wrapped her in the light rug under which she lay, picked her up and carried her out through the hole he had cut in the cage.

  Their eyes wide with astonishment and awe, his men gaped at the limp body of the woman whom, with Roboumo as her mouth-piece, they believed to have terrorised the people of Tujoa for so long. To the two of them who understood a little English, Gregory said quickly:

  ‘Go find Ratu. Tell him I have White Witch. She ill. I take her to yacht—the Boa Viagem.’ Then he beckoned the other four to follow him out of the bure.

  The Witch was very thin and, at a guess, Gregory thought she could not weigh much more than seven stone; even so, by the time he got her down to the beach he was panting heavily. There the largest of the men with him—a broad-shouldered giant—insisted on taking her from him and carrying her out to the motor boat. On reaching it, they laid her gently upon the cushions in the stern. As the engine was started up, Gregory sat down beside her, pillowed her head on his lap and tried to rouse her; but his efforts proved fruitless.

  A quarter of an hour later they reached the harbour. It had been Gregory’s intention to get her aboard the yacht, give her an emetic and enlist Olinda’s help in looking after her. But, as they came round the high, curved mole that protected the harbour from the worst gales, a surprise awaited him. The Boa Viagem was no longer there.

  Why she should have left her mooring Gregory could not imagine. Ever since she had arrived at Revika she had lain at anchor in deep water about two hundred yards from the wharf.

  What possible reason could Olinda have had for giving orders for her yacht to put to sea? Greatly puzzled and not a little perturbed, he had the motor boat land them on the quay. The departure of the yacht meant that another quarter of an hour must elapse, while the Witch was carried up the hill to the Royal bure, before she could be given an emetic; but that could not be helped and was not a matter of great urgency.

  On reaching the bure, Gregory took the Witch from the big native who had carried her up the hill, then made signs to the four men who had accompanied him that they should go round to the kitchens and refresh themselves. As they bowed and turned away, he eased the position of the White Witch in his arms and carried her into the bure. On entering, he was confronted with another surprise. Hamie Baker was no longer there; but the big, lofty room was not unoccupied. Manon was reclining with her feet up on one of the sofas, smoking a cigarette and with a drink by her side. Coming to her feet, she exclaimed:

  ‘Mon Dieu! Where have you been? And who in the world is that?’

  ‘I’ve come from Roboumo’s island,’ he replied, as he laid his still-unconscious burden down on one of the other sofas, ‘and this is the White Witch.’

  ‘The White Witch?’ Manon echoed. ‘How different she is from what I had imagined. I’ve always thought of her as some great, fat, forceful-looking woman. And now she turns out to be an old, frail, white woman. But why have you brought her here?’

  ‘We rescued her in order to get the better of Lacost. As you know, in the afternoon of—yes, yesterday, although it seems now weeks ago—James received an offer from Roboumo to enter into a pact. James went to the island and all was going well, but he insisted that the Witch should be a party to the pact so Roboumo let him see her. She was under hypnosis, but managed to struggle out of it sufficiently to let James know that she was a prisoner.’

  Manon shook her head. ‘What an extraordinary affair.’

  ‘It certainly is. When James found out the truth, Roboumo tried to kill him; but he got away. Of course, all prospect of a pact had gone up in smoke. We were stuck again with the fact that, with only the body-guard, our chances of capturing the Pigalle were far from good. It was then it struck me that, although the Witch was not really a witch at all, Roboumo’s men believed that he owed all his power to her; so, if we could rescue her, they would come over to us. We attacked the island an hour ago and I got her out. She had been doped to the eyebrows and we must bring her round as soon as possible; but that can wait for a few minutes while you tell me how you come to be here. Did you escape, or did Lacost let you go?’

  ‘Tell me first why you failed to act on the message I left for you.’ Manon’s voice held an angry, resentful tone as she went on:

  ‘I know you had it, because when I got back here I went to the loo and found it gone. And you already had Lacost’s ultimatum from Hamie Baker about pulling out my toenails and cutting off my ears unless he received the licence.’

  Gregory gave a slight shrug. ‘My dear girl, I should have thought that would already be clear to you. In your note you said you felt certain Lacost would do you no harm if I failed to go aboard the Pigalle and, even if we did not send him the licence by someone else, he would have had nothing to gain by taking you to pieces. To leave without it would have meant that, sooner or later, he and all his pals would go to the guillotine. Therefore I felt certain that the time limit of two o’clock which he had given me could safely be ignored. It was a sure bet that he would hang on here till the very last moment, hoping in some way that he’d get the licence from us; and, as the gunboat from Noumea can’t arrive before Monday morning, he could safely stay on in Revika until midday. You must know that the body-guard is made up only of house servants and peasants: not real fighting men. That’s why we had to delay until we could secure the support of
Roboumo’s toughs.’

  Before Manon replied she lit another cigarette; then she said more mildly, ‘I suppose the view you took is understandable. As a matter of fact I learned quite a bit from Hamie about what was going on.’

  ‘I take it that it was you who released him?’

  ‘Yes. You tied him up so tightly that the poor fellow was in agony. He meant you no harm and only acted as Lacost’s messenger; so I set him free and let him go.’

  Gregory’s face darkened into a scowl, so that the scar that ran from the end of his eyebrows up into his forehead showed livid, and he exclaimed angrily, ‘Damn it, you may have ruined everything! Hamie’s only interest is money. It’s quite on the cards that by now he is on his way to the Pigalle to get himself another wad of notes by warning Lacost of our intentions.’

  ‘No, he won’t be able to do that, even if he tries to. By the time he gets across the island to the site of the wreck, where the Pigalle was anchored, he will find her gone.’

  ‘D’you mean … d’you mean that Lacost has thrown in his hand and sailed?’

  Manon nodded. ‘Yes, but not for good. He remained there until half past two. Then, as you failed to turn up, or someone sent by you, he got under way and set off to put into operation an alternative plan by which he hoped to get the better of you.’

  ‘Good God! Do you know it?’

  ‘I do. That’s why he released me. The Pigalle sailed round to the harbour and later he had me put ashore; so that I could act as his messenger and bring you a second ultimatum.’

  Instantly there flashed back into Gregory’s mind the fact that the Boa Viagem had disappeared. With a gasp of dismay he exclaimed, ‘Hell’s bells! I’ve got it! He seized Olinda’s yacht and swapped you for her as a hostage.’

  Manon gave a sigh, looked down at her feet and said, ‘I’m terribly sorry that it should be I who have been forced to bring you this bad news. But you are right. It was easy to capture the yacht. Everyone aboard her was sound asleep. The Pigalle came alongside, the Colons boarded her and took her over without a shot being fired.’

  Putting a hand to his head, Gregory groaned. It was he who had persuaded Captain Amedo to lend him all the weapons from the yacht’s armoury, and the body-guard still had them; so the crew of the Boa Viagem had been deprived of the chance of putting up any resistance.

  Meanwhile, Manon was going on, ‘One must admit that Lacost is no fool. Unfortunately for him he made one mistake. He naturally believed that Olinda still held the licence. His plan had been to take over the yacht, transfer the treasure to her, then scuttle the Pigalle and make off in the much faster Boa Viagem. But in that he was foiled. Olinda declared that the licence was no longer hers, that she had transferred it to James two days ago. When threatened with torture she convinced Lacost by opening her safe and showing him that it was not among her valuables and papers. It was then that he decided he must make another bid for it. Possession of the licence could clear him and the others of having fired on the flotilla of boats in which you attacked him yesterday. Seizing the Boa Viagem was, of course, an act of piracy; but by threats of torture he can force Olinda to write a letter to the effect that she was being held by James in Revika against her will, and asking Lacost to come to her rescue.’

  ‘Yes, he’s a clever devil,’ Gregory admitted; then he added, ‘How comes it that he told you so much about his plans?’

  She raised her eyebrows and spread out her hands. ‘Why not? It was natural that he should, since he meant to use me as his emissary. How could I give you a clear account of his intentions unless he told me of them? His spies have informed him that James is in love with Olinda, so he is counting on that to bring the two of you to heel and send a transfer of the licence out to him as her ransom. Of course, he knows nothing about how you and James have been away for a good part of the night attacking Roboumo’s island. But he has given you a few hours to think it over. Either you send out the licence to him before dawn or he means to up anchor and make off into the blue with Olinda. I am most terribly sorry to have to tell you all this, darling. But there it is. I had no option.’

  ‘What has he done with the Pigalle!’ Gregory asked.

  ‘When he had me put ashore he was about to tow her out to the far side of the mole, then, after he had transferred the treasure and his stores to the Boa Viagem, scuttle her. The Colons must have been working on shifting their cargoes from the Pigalle for the past hour.’

  It was at that moment that James burst into the room. His handsome face expressed a queer mixture of triumph and concern.

  ‘We’ve done it!’ he exclaimed. ‘It was all over in ten minutes. We had to shoot half a dozen of Roboumo’s men then he arrived on the scene himself, and urged them to greater efforts. Aleamotu’a brought him down by a bullet through the thigh. It has always been a custom in the islands that immediately one leader or the other is rendered hors de combat his followers should cease fighting. That is what happened. His men surrendered.

  ‘Then your two messengers reached me with the news that you had got away with the White Witch. When I announced it Roboumo’s men went down on their knees and grovelled to me begging for mercy. I assured them of my forgiveness and protection, provided they obeyed me without question. My first order to them was that they should tie Roboumo to a tree and shoot him. It was a tense moment, but they did; so summary justice was done on him and he will give us no more trouble.

  ‘Next I told them that I required them to show further their loyalty to me by aiding in an attack on the Pigalle. There were more than a score of them unwounded and still fighting fit. Unhesitatingly they beat their chests and cried, “Bole! Bole!”, their challenge to an enemy, and followed me down to our boats.

  ‘From your two men I learned that you were on your way back to the harbour, so we went there to pick you up. I expected to find that you had taken the White Witch to the Boa Viagem. But the yacht was not there. She has gone. I was amazed and filled with fear. What has become of her?’

  As quickly as he could, Gregory told James of the new and menacing situation.

  When he realised what had occurred James let out a wail of grief and cried, ‘Olinda! My love; my sweet one! She is in the hands of those devils. We must go at once. I will transfer the licence to this brute Lacost. It is the only way to save her.’

  ‘No,’ said Gregory firmly. ‘I’m damned if I’ll let you throw the sponge in now, when the odds are in our favour. With the body-guard and Roboumo’s men to give them a lead, we’ll have the upper hand. Lacost is there waiting for us; but by now the moon must have set. Under cover of darkness we will be able to approach the yacht unseen. The Colons number half a dozen at the most. We will have ten times their numbers. With twenty ruthless, well-armed fighting men, backed by forty others, they won’t stand a chance against us.’

  Manon, wide-eyed, cut in. ‘You’ll not pull it off. I beg you not to try. I don’t think I told you, but Lacost said I was to let you know that if more than one motor boat with three or four men in her approached the yacht he would open fire with his machine guns. Such an attempt could not possibly succeed. It would lead only to a massacre.’

  ‘You are right,’ muttered James miserably. ‘Oh, you are right! The only way I can save Olinda is to go out and transfer the licence to Lacost.’

  ‘Pull your wits together, boy!’ Gregory snapped. ‘Haven’t you the sense to see that transferring the licence will not now be enough? Possession of it might just be sufficient to excuse Lacost having fired upon us and those French gendarmes yesterday. But not for this act of piracy in having boarded and seized the Boa Viagem. If he is caught, and he certainly will be, the only way in which he can clear himself of that is by coercing Olinda into writing a series of letters, purporting to show that you had been detaining her here against her will, and begging him, as her late husband’s partner, to rescue her. Convincing letters of that kind cannot be thought out and written in the space of half an hour while we lie alongside the yacht in a motor b
oat. Lacost will take the licence from you, then tell you to go to hell and carry Olinda off with him. How could you possibly prevent him from doing that? If you mean to save Olinda the only chance you’ve got is to go in and get her.’

  ‘You have reason on your side,’ James muttered unhappily. ‘I suppose that is the only hope of saving her. But if Lacost intends to fire on us should we approach the yacht with more than one boat, how can we possibly hope to get the better of him?’

  ‘God knows! I don’t,’ Gregory said with a shrug. ‘But with luck I’ll think up some way to trick him.’

  Turning towards the white-haired woman who still lay unconscious on the sofa, he looked at her, then added, ‘At the moment the last thing I want to do is to leave here. I want to bring our pseudo Witch round and hear her story. But it is up to you, James. If you want to get your girl back I can’t let you down, so I’ll come with you. But dawn can’t be far off, and we’ll stand no chance at all unless we can attack under cover of darkness. So if we are going to make the attempt we must leave at once.’

  James nodded. ‘Thank you, dear friend. Yes; let us go.’

  Gregory took another long look at the Witch, then he said to Manon, ‘I don’t think for a moment that Roboumo would have been such a fool as to give her a deadly poison, because he would have thought there was a good chance of his warriors successfully defending the village. But he must have made her swallow something pretty potent for her to have fallen into such deep unconsciousness, and the sooner it is out of her system, the better. Get some mustard from the kitchen, mix it with hot water, then force it down her throat. Even if she doesn’t come to, it will make her sick. And remember, she has never been our enemy, but an unhappy prisoner; so if she does come round, treat her with the greatest kindness and get her to bed.’

 

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