Sweet Enchantress

by Barbara Cartland

Chuck was going to rescue her!

  She felt as if she could sing aloud because of her very happiness.

  She sat down in the rickety old taxi beside Edie and felt that it was a chariot transplanting her to Heaven.

  Chuck had not forgotten and she felt the tears come into her eyes with utter relief because she had been so afraid.

  She knew now that her desperate anxiety had been not only for his safety, but also lest, having found security for himself, he should forget about her or think her no longer important to him.

  He had remembered!

  She felt as if the secret that she was nursing in her breast was worth a million times more than the money weighing down Edie’s pocket.

  “I love him! I love him!”

  The taxi wheels seemed to be repeating those same words over and over again as they drew nearer and nearer to the quay.

  She did not know what to expect. She had no time to make plans. She only knew that Chuck had given her an instruction to run when they reached the quay and she was ready to obey him.

  The taxi passed through the gates and drove down towards the yacht. It all seemed very quiet and peaceful. There were the lights of the quay and the glittering reflected lights of the yachts and ships shimmering on the softly moving water.

  She felt suddenly wildly and ecstatically excited. It was because she was going to see Chuck. But at the same time she knew that it was the beginning of another adventure – greater and more thrilling than anything she had experienced before.

  The taxi was slowing down. She could see The Enchantress, the beautiful, clean white lines of her shining even in the darkness. There appeared to be no movement aboard.

  Edie got out first and with his usual lack of manners he made no attempt to help Zaria who followed him. He fumbled in his pocket and then turned to Victor.

  “Have you any small change?” he asked.

  “I think so,” Victor replied.

  “I’ve got some,” Mr. Virdon said.

  It was then that Zaria heard the whistle. It was faint and low and it came a little to the left of her from the dark shadows of a warehouse.

  She waited no longer. She turned and ran with a speed she had not known herself capable of in the direction that the whistle had come from.

  As Zaria ran, she heard a shout behind her. Just for a moment she felt as if she was in a dream, flying from some inexplicable terror with her feet growing heavier and heavier and slower and slower.

  And then, even as she was overcome with a blind panic of fear, she reached the darkness of some buildings and felt a hand go out to take hers.

  She knew who it was – knew although she could not see him – and felt like a drowning man to whom someone has suddenly thrown a lifebuoy.

  “Chuck! Chuck!”

  She heard her own voice come sobbingly from between her lips and then without a word they were moving together through the dark shadows in which Zaria could discern little while Chuck seemed amazingly surefooted.

  There were some more shouts and cries behind them now.

  Zaria could hear Edie cursing and Victor calling her name.

  “Zaria! Zaria! Where are you? Come here at once.”

  It was a command with an undercurrent of fear behind it.

  Suddenly Chuck stopped.

  Zaria’s eyes were more accustomed now to the darkness around and she saw, to her surprise, that they were in the midst of a great number of barrels. Piled high on each other, but providing peepholes through which anyone could see and not be seen, they made a perfect hiding place.

  The ceiling above them was arched, but there were no side walls and a little to the left of where they were standing Zaria could see The Enchantress, serenely beautiful in the harbour lights.

  Edie was shouting now.

  “Zaria! Come here or it will be the worse for you! Zaria! Zaria!”

  His voice went echoing around the great empty buildings and the echo seemed to come back at him.

  “Zaria! Zaria!”

  But Zaria was no longer listening. Chuck was close beside her and while her own breath came in quick gasps, he was calm and still.

  She was vividly conscious of his nearness. She could not see his face, she could only discern the square outline of his shoulders.

  He still held her hand and now uncertainly and a little shyly, her other hand went out towards him, as if she must be certain that he was really there.

  “You are safe,” she managed to say at last. “You are safe! I was so afraid.”

  “I told you to trust me,” he answered in his low deep voice and then there was no longer any need for words.

  His arms were round her, he was holding her close – and knowing what he wanted, she lifted her face to his.

  It was the instinctive gesture of a flower turning its face towards the sun.

  His lips found hers, the whole world fell away and she was lost in a glory and splendour such as she had never known in all her small starved existence.

  She felt her whole being respond to him. She felt every nerve in her body pulsating and throbbing as if in a very paean of joy and gladness.

  Just for a moment she thought that she must be dreaming and then the tingling thrill running through her body told her that this was no dream but reality.

  Chuck was kissing her. She was his. She belonged to him. Her very soul passed through her lips into his keeping for all Eternity.

  “Zaria!”

  Edie’s voice was nearer and now, as if he awoke to the dangers of the situation, Chuck drew her down between the barrels.

  “Keep very still,” he whispered and then, as they crouched there, they heard Edie’s voice again,

  “Come out, damn you! You’ll suffer for this if you don’t obey me. Come out!”

  Zaria turned her face against Chuck’s shoulder.

  The menace and danger outside did not seem real somehow. This was her world – this dark hole between the barrels with Chuck’s arms round her, Chuck’s lips close to hers.

  This was reality – everything else was just a figment of her imagination, an evil that could not touch her in her utter and supreme happiness.

  “Zaria!”

  The voice was further away now.

  “I love you,” Chuck said suddenly. “I suppose you know that?”

  “No,” Zaria managed to reply as she buried her face still further against his shoulder.

  “You have been so brave,” Chuck said. “So wonderful. And now it is all over.”

  “What do you mean?” Zaria asked.

  “I will show you,” he answered.

  He drew her gently to her feet and then slowly, moving cautiously and in silence, he led her through the barrels until they were still nearer to The Enchantress.

  Now Zaria could see the side of the quay quite clearly as well as the gangway and Edie and Victor walking slowly towards it.

  They were talking angrily together and for a moment Zaria could not hear what was said.

  Then, faintly, she heard the word ‘torch’ and guessed that they were going aboard to fetch a torch with which to search for her.

  She was not afraid. She was with Chuck. Neither Edie nor anyone else could menace her when he was there.

  And she thought that strangely she was no longer afraid for him.

  They could slip away into the town and who would find them there?

  There would be friends in the Kasbah who would assist them, and, if that failed, there would always be the desert, where they could vanish for months and even an army would be unable to discover their whereabouts.

  ‘We are free and together,’ Zaria thought to herself and turned impulsively to Chuck to say so.

  “Wait!” he said softly, almost before the words could reach her lips.

  Because he asked it of her she obediently watched Edie and Victor climb the gangway onto the deck of The Enchantress.

  They hurried towards the door of the Saloon. They opened it. For a moment there was no sound, and
then an outburst of noise.

  Voices were raised. There was a shout, something curiously like a scream and then Edie rushed back onto the deck drawing a revolver from his pocket.

  He fired and the sound of his shot was followed almost immediately by several shots. It was like watching a film, Zaria thought, as Edie heeled over slowly and fell.

  Men came running from the Saloon – men dressed in the uniform of the French Army.

  “But – but what is happening?” Zaria gasped as Chuck turned and, taking her by the hand, started to retrace their way through the barrels.

  “It’s all over,” he said softly. “Come along. There is no reason for us to stay here.”

  “But – Chuck, I don’t understand,” Zaria began.

  But she realised that he had no intentions of explaining anything to her at that moment and so she followed him in silence through the barrels, through the big warehouses crowded with many different types of shipments and outside onto the road where a car stood waiting.

  There was no driver. Chuck opened the door and helped Zaria in and then seated himself at the wheel.

  “I-I don’t understand,” Zaria started to say again.

  Then Chuck turned and looked at her and in the light of the street lamp she saw his face.

  She knew then that what he had said was true.

  He did love her. She could see it there in his eyes, in the twist of his lips and in an expression of such tenderness that her heart seemed to turn over in her breast.

  She had nothing more to say. This was all she wanted to understand.

  Why and how and when Chuck had begun to love her.

  He bent his head swiftly and laid his lips against hers.

  “I adore you,” he said in his deep voice that was somehow curiously moved. “And now, hold on tight, because we are going very fast.”

  He started up the car and drove at what seemed to Zaria breakneck speed away from the harbour, through the lower part of the town and onto the road that led up to the wooded slopes that have, since time immemorial, made a perfect setting for the beauty of Algiers.

  Zaria wondered vaguely whether they were going out into the desert.

  She sensed that Chuck did not wish her to ask any questions and so she was silent. Besides, her breath was almost taken away by the speed at which they were travelling.

  On and on they went until the houses were left behind and there were only wonderful gardens filled with orange and lemon trees and great palms waving their fronds against the starlit sky.

  They turned in at a gate, drove down a drive of lime trees and stopped outside a huge white porticoed villa gleaming palely beautiful in the light of the moon.

  “Why have we stopped here?” Zaria asked, a little frightened.

  In answer Chuck climbed out and went round the car to open the door for her.

  “Where are we?” she asked again and he drew her down beside him and put his arms round her.

  “I have brought you home, my darling,” he answered as he moved, with his arm round her shoulders, towards the door of the villa.

  He opened it and they walked into a large cool hall. It was lit only by lights glowing over the pictures and they passed through it and entered a room.

  It was ablaze with lights, gleaming on beautiful furniture, pictures and a profusion of flowers and, as they entered, a woman rose from a low chair and gave a cry of welcome.

  “Darling, you’re back! I was getting worried.”

  She came towards them with outstretched hands and Zaria saw at once her resemblance to Chuck. There was no mistaking that they were mother and son.

  Chuck bent to kiss her.

  “It’s all right, Mother. And here is Zaria. I told you I would bring her back with me!”

  He looked down at Zaria.

  “This is my mother, my sweet,” he explained, “the Comtesse de Chatelneuf.”

  The Comtesse smiled and Zaria thought that she was one of the most beautiful people she had ever seen. Tall and slender with big grey eyes in an oval face, her pure white hair made her seem somehow younger than her years.

  “So this is Zaria,” she said softly.

  “She’s still a little bewildered by it all,” Chuck explained.

  “I can so understand that,” his mother replied. “Come, dears, I have sandwiches and drinks for you, unless you would like something more substantial.”

  “I think that will be all we’ll want,” Chuck answered.

  The Comtesse led the way to the far end of the room where there was a table containing several delicious dishes and every possible sort of drink.

  “I am so glad that you are here,” she said to Zaria. “Since my son told me of the terrible people you were associating with, I have been worrying all the evening lest they should hurt you.”

  Zaria at last found her voice.

  “I-I thought you were ill,” she stammered.

  Chuck laughed.

  “Mother, I have to confess to you that I have told quite a lot of lies,” he said. “You know how desperate I was to get on the yacht, so I had to tell Zaria that you were ill, in fact I’m not certain I didn’t say you were dying and I believe I also told a few fibs about some wicked stepbrothers who were trying to cut me out of your will.”

  “That was very naughty of you, darling,” the Comtesse said in an affectionate tone. “You know how I hate lies of any sort. Could you not have told Zaria the truth?”

  “If I had, I don’t think she would have believed me and what is more I certainly don’t think she would have befriended me as she did.”

  “Then the sooner you tell her everything now, the better,” she said with an effort at severity. “And when you have done that, please go and wash that terrible dye off your hair. I cannot bear to look at you with it.”

  She smiled at both of them and then, putting her hand on Zaria’s shoulder, she said,

  “I am going to bed now because I know there are lots of things you want to say to each other. As a matter of fact, I have been ill and I have to take care of myself. My son will tell you all about it. But before I go I should like to say one thing – I have always wanted a daughter and now I hope I am going to have one.”

  She bent as she spoke and kissed Zaria’s cheek. And then, before Zaria could respond, she had moved across the room, Chuck had opened the door for her and she was gone.

  Zaria was conscious of the tears welling into her eyes.

  No one had ever been so sweet to her, so kind or so understanding to her

  Chuck came back across the room.

  “How do you like my mother?” he asked.

  “She is – wonderful,” Zaria stammered with something suspiciously like a sob in her voice.

  Chuck put his arm round her.

  “Tears?” he asked. “There’s nothing to cry about, Zaria.”

  “There is,” Zaria answered. “I am too happy. It cannot be true. I must be imagining all this.”

  In answer Chuck poured out two glasses of champagne.

  “We are going to drink a toast before we do anything else,” he said. “Pick up your glass.”

  Zaria obeyed him.

  He raised his.

  “To our enchanted future!” he said quietly. “And may the past be quickly forgotten.”

  He sipped his champagne and Zaria did likewise and then he drew her down to a wide cushioned window seat in front of a huge window that opened into the moonlit garden.

  “Shall I start from the beginning?” he asked. “Because I know you are dying of curiosity.”

  “I don’t think I am really,” Zaria answered. “Not now. I am too happy to think of anything but the present.”

  “That is what I wanted you to say,” he replied. “Oh, Zaria, I love you so much! You are full of surprises, full of so many things that delight and intrigue me. And yet, at the same time, you always do the right thing, the thing that makes each moment we are together perfect.”

  “It frightens me when you say – thin
gs like that,” Zaria murmured. “I am so afraid that – you will go away and forget me.”

  “I shall never do that,” Chuck answered. “Because I’m going to look after you, I’m going to make you happy, I’m going to wipe away those dark shadows under your eyes and that look of fear on your face. Sometimes it breaks my heart when I see your lips droop and your eyes go dark and miserable because of what you are remembering. The nightmare is over, Zaria. Ahead lies sunrise for both of us.”

  The tears in Zaria’s eyes welled over and ran down her cheeks.

  “I am crying because I am so happy,” she said. “So utterly and ecstatically happy. I never knew that love could be like this.”

  “This is only the beginning,” Chuck answered. “We have so much more to discover, so much more to dig up together.” His lips twisted a little. “I am really an archaeologist you know.”

  “Are you? Oh, I am so glad,” Zaria cried.

  “We will go digging together,” he said, “as soon as we are married. Will you be happy to spend your honeymoon with me like that?”

  Zaria did not answer for a moment and he added anxiously,

  “You are going to marry me, aren’t you?”

  “Are you really – asking me?” she enquired.

  “I’ve never wanted to marry anyone before,” he answered. “I shall never want to marry anyone again. You are the one I have been looking for, Zaria.”

  She bent her head suddenly and laid her lips against his hand. He snatched it away almost fiercely and swept her into his arms.

  “Oh, darling, darling!” he cried. “Don’t be humble. If you knew what you are giving me. If I could only tell you what it means to be loved for myself.”

  She did not answer him because his lips were on hers and she was quivering and trembling in his hold while a flame within her leapt vivid and fiery through her body.

  After a long time he released her again and, lifting her glass of champagne, put it back into her hand.

  “I must send you to bed,” he said. “But before you go, I want to tell you about everything, because otherwise I am afraid that you will lie awake asking yourself questions that you won’t know the answer to.”

  “There is one I must know,” Zaria said. “Why did you dye your hair?”

  “I dyed it for the same reason that I wore my dark glasses,” Chuck answered. “Because otherwise I thought I should resemble too closely for comfort the gentleman on the yacht you knew as Mr. Virdon.”