HF - 03 - The Devil's Own

by Christopher Nicole

  'You had to escape from Green Grove?'

  'I have been locked in my room these last three weeks, fed when they wished. When he wished. I thought he would murder me, but ...'

  'He? Who is this he?'

  'Hodge. He manages the place now, Captain. He has since ... since the day of the duel. Since he ..." she burst into tears.

  Gently Kit forced her into the chair and knelt beside her. 'He has imprisoned Marguerite as well? Is she also locked in a room at Green Grove?'

  She shook her head. Her hair scattered to and fro. 'Oh, no, Captain. He would not risk that. He feared her, as we all feared her, until that day.'

  Kit frowned at her. 'You mean they rebelled against her because she had not killed Lilian?'

  Again the violent shake of her head. 'No one knew,' she said. 'No one, save I, and I was sworn to secrecy. And she was careful, always careful, Captain. She would not go abroad unless veiled, and only I was ever allowed into her bedchamber.'

  Kit stared at her, a terrible lump seeming to swell in his belly. He glanced at Dag; the Quaker's face was rigid.

  'But that morning,' Elizabeth said, 'she was in despair. She had gone to die. She thought Lilian would kill her. She expected to die, Captain. And then, when Lilian fired into the air, she knew that she could not. She was in such despair,

  Captain, she took off her hat and veil in the carriage. And Hodge caught up with her before she regained the house. He saw her, Captain.'

  'Oh, Christ,' Kit muttered. 'What did he see, Elizabeth?'

  But he did not have to ask, because suddenly he knew.

  'Oh, God, Captain,' she moaned. 'He saw.'

  Kit felt Dag's hand on his shoulder.

  'How long had she been ill?' the Quaker asked.

  'More than a year,' Elizabeth said. 'It began with a cold which would not dry.'

  'My God,' Kit muttered. He remembered Marguerite on board the Euryalus, and in the courtroom in Bridgetown, dabbing at her mouth with the scented handkerchief. And he remembered too Martha Louise, and others, whose ailment had begun with a dribbling nose. But neither of them had thought for a moment such a fate could be Meg's. 'You knew of this?'

  Elizabeth's head bobbed up and down. 'Soon after she returned from the trial. After that night, when you came out to Green Grove, and were arrested. She fled upstairs when you were gone, and I went in to her, and saw her lying on the bed, in tears. I asked if I could help, and she raised her head, and looked at me ... oh, God, Captain Hilton, that look I will carry to my grave.'

  'There were marks on her face?'

  'Not then. On her body.'

  'She showed you?' Astrid whispered.

  'Aye. She was so alone, in her misery. She knew not what to do. It was I begged her to do nothing. Perhaps it was just a skin disease, I said. Perhaps the yaws.'

  'But they spread,' Kit said.

  'Yes,' Elizabeth said. 'They spread. And became worse.'

  'And would you not send for the surgeon?'

  'She would not, Captain. And she swore me to secrecy. Oh, God have mercy on me, Captain. What could I do? What can anyone do, with a woman like Mrs Hilton?'

  'But ... the children?'

  'Were not exposed, Captain. I swear it. From that moment she never touched them. She kept herself isolated. No one was allowed near her, except me, and I was to wear gloves whenever I assisted her, and then to burn the gloves.'

  'You stayed with her for a year, knowing she was a leper?' Lilian asked. 'Miss Johnson, you put us all to shame.'

  'But the children,' Kit said again, his brain a whirl of despair.

  'Are safe, Captain. I swear it. I tried to persuade her to send them away, immediately. But she would not. She loved them too dearly, Captain. But when she realized there was no hope for her, then she sent them to her stepmother.'

  'Safe?' Kit cried. 'And their mother a leper?'

  Dag's fingers still rested on his shoulder. Now they tightened. 'The disease is not hereditary, Kit. All authorities are agreed on that. If they were not exposed, then they are, truly, safe.'

  'Oh, God,' Kit muttered. Marguerite, all that beauty, all that strength ... 'Is that what you would have told me the night I went out there?' he asked. 'But once again you obeyed her.'

  'What could I do, Captain?' she asked again. 'By then I loved her as if she were my own sister. God knows, I feared and hated her when first she summoned me to Green Grove. But such courage cannot help but be loved.'

  'And she would have had me kill her,' Lilian said half to herself. 'I failed her, in that. But I will put flowers on her grave. Now and always.'

  'She is not yet dead,' Elizabeth muttered.

  Kit's head jerked. 'Not dead? But ..."

  'Hodge discovered her secret, yes. He was terrified. He summoned two other of the overseers, Lowan and Marks, and they took her to her room. They knew not what to do. With either of us. They wanted to kill her, but they feared her, even then. But then they realized the power that could be theirs, that was already theirs, if no one discovered the truth. Yet they still feared to murder her, to murder a planter, to murder a Warner, to murder Kit Hilton's wife. So at dead of that night they ferried her to the island.'

  Kit stared at her, his jaw slowly dropping. 'They took Marguerite to the island?'

  'She fought them,' Elizabeth said. 'She fought them and would have screamed for help, but they bound her and gagged her and threw her into the boat, and took her across, and left her on the beach.' 'And you?'

  'They threatened to take me with her, Captain.' Tears welled into her eyes. 'I could not. I wept and begged.' She glanced at Lilian. 'You think I am brave, and strong, as she? I stayed because I feared to leave. But when they would have taken us both, I lay on the floor and kissed their boots and begged them. And so they locked me up, at last. I think even then they were afraid of what might happen. They were waiting to hear about the Governor, because everyone knew that Chester had written to England asking for Colonel Parke's recall, and it was felt that if the Governor went you would have to go too, Captain Hilton.'

  'Hodge, by God,' Kit said.

  'So last night they rode into town to take part in the fight, and I escaped.' She flushed. 'I climbed down the drain pipe.'

  'And walked to St John's from Green Grove?' Astrid cried.

  Kit stood up. 'You'll get me a horse, Dag. I'll take the trap up to Government House for my weapons.'

  'You'll go after Hodge? Can there not be an end to hatred and bloodshed, Kit?'

  'Hodge? By God, I'll settle with Hodge, Dag, when the time comes. But I must go for Meg.'

  'But ..."

  'She is a leper? Would you have me stay away for that? Yet is that not the true horror of it. Hodge set her ashore on the island where every inhabitant is a victim of her own peculiar method of dealing with the disease. Can you imagine how they must hate her? And now ... for three weeks, by God, she has been in their power.'

  'Oh, God,' Lilian muttered. 'Oh, God.'

  'Aye,' Dag said. 'He does pose us some problems, to be sure. You fetch your weapons, Kit. I'll procure two horses.'

  'Two?' Kit demanded.

  'This day I'll ride by your side. And be happy to do so.'

  The sun was still high in the sky when they topped the hill above the plantation. From here all looked as peacefully prosperous as ever in the past. Except that the fields were empty.

  Kit, dragging on his rein to give his mount a respite, and drawing his sleeve across his face to dry the sweat, stared at the empty acres of waving green in amazement.

  'The overseers must all have marched with Chester,' Dag said.

  'Then may we well discover a massacre.' Kit kicked his horse and cantered down the slope. He had not seen Hodge since immediately before the Governor's death. But then, Hodge, would hardly have dared show his face.

  The house stood empty, the front door open. But now he could see the activity at the overseers' village. There were wagons waiting, and women standing around giving their menfolk instructions
, while the children shouted and played hide-and-seek around their mothers' skirts.

  He turned his horse and rode for them, and at the sound of his hooves men, women and children insensibly moved into a huddle. He reined at the gateway, scanned the terrified faces. 'Where is Hodge?'

  They glanced at each other, and shook their heads.

  'You.' Kit pointed at one of the men. 'Tell me where he is.'

  'In town, Captain Hilton.' 'There are two others. Lowan and Marks.' 'In town, Captain. They have not returned.' 'But you were there too,' Kit said. 'Or how do you know to flee?'

  The man licked his lips, looked from side to side. 'They sent me, Captain. These people, they are innocent of any harm.'

  'Innocent,' Kit spat at them.

  Dag touched him on the arm. 'Some of them, at the least, Kit.'

  'Did you come here to restrain me, or to aid me, Dag?' 'I'd do both, Kit.'

  Kit heard the breath whistling through his own nostrils. 'Then begone,' he told them. 'Let me see your faces again, and by God I'll have his blood.' His gaze scorched at them. 'Or hers.'

  He pulled his horse round, cantered down to the slave compound. The blacks were also gathered before their houses. watching. Just watching. What strange people they were, to be sure. How patient, how resigned to their fate. He recalled Tom Warner's words as they had walked through the forests of Dominica, and wondered if the cacique had been right, after all, and there were no more warlike people than the white man.

  Someone shouted, 'Is the Captin.'

  The cry was taken up, and now at last they moved, surging to the gate of the compound, but not venturing beyond. 'The Captin,' they shouted.

  Maurice Peter came through the gateway as Kit and Dag reined their horses. 'Captin, suh,' he said. 'But we is glad to see you.'

  'Why is there no one at work?' Kit demanded.

  'Well, Captin, Mr Hodge he say to stay in the compound until he come for we. He say so two days now, Captin. And he ain't come.'

  'And you have remained here?' Kit asked.

  'They arc good people,' Dag said. 'They would be better, had they but the opportunity.'

  'And where is the mistress?' Kit asked.

  'Why, Captin, she must be in the house. Is a fact we ain't see she too much. We ain't see she, why, it must be one month. Is Mr Hodge does manage the estate.'

  'Aye,' Kit said. 'Fetch four men, Maurice Peter, and launch the boat. Make haste now.'

  Maurice Peter stared at him. 'The boat? But there ain't nobody sick, Captin.'

  'Just do as I say.' Kit dismounted, led Dag down the twisting path beyond the slave compound to the beach. After a moment's argument amongst themselves, Maurice Peter followed with four men. Below them the water sparkled blue in the midday sun, and moved with a slow swell between the island and the shore. And on the island itself the green trees, densely packed and hugged yet closer by the snarled undergrowth, looked empty of life, save for the always tell-tale wisp of smoke arising from the seaward side.

  The pirogue rested on the sand; the paddles lay in the bottom. Maurice Peter waited at the water's edge. 'But who we carrying across, Captin?'

  'Launch the boat.' Kit helped them push the heavy bark down the beach and into the gentle waves, led them over the stern, Dag behind him. Maurice Peter took the steering oar, and the other Negroes handled the paddles. Kit waited in the bow.

  Of what did he think, as the island loomed larger? He could not think at all. He dared not think at all. There were too many emotions screaming at his consciousness, demanding to be loosed, demanding to be expiated in a long burst of fury.

  The water turned green, and they could see the white sand only a few feet beneath them. The slaves stopped paddling, and the boat slid to a stop.

  'Give way,' Kit said. 'We will have to land.'

  'Land there, Captin?' Maurice Peter's voice was high with fear.

  'Land me, at least, old man,' Kit said. 'But Captin ...'

  'Wait,' Dag said. 'There are people.'

  They waited amidst the trees, watching the boat. Kit's hands were so wet with sweat that they slipped on the gunwale as he stood up.

  'Speak with them, Kit,' Dag begged. 'Speak, before doing anything rash.'

  But there was more activity on the shore. He had not realized before how many people lived here, waiting to die. On his previous visits no more than half a dozen had ever appeared to greet the new arrival. But now he saw a good score coming down the sand to his right, carrying something between them. They moved slowly and awkwardly, many lacking toes to maintain their balances. They kept their heads bowed, but even at this distance he could make out some of the ghastly mutilations which the disease had inflicted on their faces.

  'Land me,' he commanded in a low voice. 'Land me. by God.'

  'Stop there, Kit.'

  His head jerked at the command, and so did the slaves, rising from their seats to stare at the beach in terror. Maurice Peter reversed the process, and dropped to his knees.

  The lepers were opposite the boat, and now they set their burden on the sand. It was a litter on which lay a shrouded figure.

  'By God,' Kit said, and thrust one leg over the side.

  'Stop, Kit.' The voice was lacking in strength, but in none of the quality he had loved and respected, and perhaps feared, for so long. He rested on the gunwale, staring at the shore, trying to tear aside the shroud with his eyes.

  'Have they not harmed you, then?' His voice was hoarse.

  'Why should they do that, Kit?' Marguerite asked. 'They are good people. Like me, they wait only to die.'

  'But ...' Good people. Whom she had condemned. 'How are you cared for?'

  'By them all, Kit. Here is Henry John. You remember Henry John?'

  He remembered Henry John, hanging between the uprights, his back a scarred mass of blood.

  'And Martha Louise? Martha Louise cares for me, Kit.'

  Martha Louise, whose screams as she had been thrust over the side had been heard even on the mainland.

  'They, have cared for you?'

  'Should they not, Kit? As I have cared for them, while I could walk. As I have cared for them, indeed, since fate first conspired to make me their mistress.'

  'But ...'

  'Here I am no longer their mistress,' she said. 'Here there is no mistress and no slave, Kit. Here there is no hate and no fear. Here there are only men and women waiting to die. So here there are only friends.'

  'You will not die, Meg,' he shouted. 'We will take you home, and fetch Haines, and ...'

  'Do not be a fool, Kit. I am dying. Faster than any of them here. I have not their strength. There is no cure. I know that better than anyone.'

  Tears welled into his eyes. 'But ... how?'

  The veiled figure moved. No doubt she had shrugged those magnificent shoulders. 'I do not know, Kit. I must have contracted the disease from one of the blacks, or perhaps it sprouted forth from the sheer energy which has always seemed to consume me. I do not know. But I thank God you left me in time.'

  'Left you? Meg ...' Christ, to find something to say.

  'And now you must leave me again,' she said. 'Listen to me, Kit. I long ago lodged the necessary papers with Walker. Green Grove is yours. You were ever more talented at growing sugar, at managing people, than I. It is yours, and the children are yours, and you must bring them to success. But mark this well, Kit. Burn the Great House, and build afresh. It will be contaminated, Kit. Make no mistake about that. Burn it to the very ground, and gut the cellars. Else will you curse yourself forever.'

  'Meg,' he cried. 'At least ...'

  'Let you look at me, Kit? Why do you wish to do that? Am I not the most beautiful woman you have ever seen? Can you not let me go to my grave, as a memory? What would you see, Kit? My teeth are loose, and falling out daily. My hair is white, and all but wasted. My nose is a running sore. I have lost the use of my legs and of my left hand. And I feel the rot eating at my belly. Would you see all of that, Kit, to haunt you for the rest of your life?
'

  'Oh, Christ,' he begged. 'To know, what to do.'

  'To do, Kit? Why, your duty is to be the master of Green Grove, to be a father to your children, to be a husband to your Lilian. And to be happy, Kit. I charge you with that.'

  'And to avenge, by God,' he said. 'I will have Hodge on this beach, on his knees, begging your forgiveness.'

  'Hodge did not contaminate me, Kit. God did that, in His wisdom. Hodge did no more to me than I have done to so many others. And Hodge did not even kill your friend Agrippa, or abuse Lilian. I did all of those things, Kit; others but carried out my commands. I would beg your forgiveness, Kit.'