The Dark Secret of Josephine rb-5

by Dennis Wheatley

  When Amanda came back she gave Roger a faint smile, and brought him some wine to drink before sitting down beside him. As he thanked her he thought that she looked ten years older than she had that morning, but there was nothing he could do and nothing that he could say to comfort her. His head still felt as though it were splitting, his eye had swollen up and was rapidly becoming black and blue, the place where the pike had laid open his right forearm now felt as though it were on fire, and the whole of his left side, with which he had hit the deck on being struck down, ached dully. He could only take one of her hands in his and put his other arm round her shoulders. Never before had he felt so utterly helpless and hopeless.

  Gradually Georgina's weeping eased to a low sobbing and for a timeless interval they all sat silent in the depths of dejection. At length, as twilight began to fall, Amanda gently released herself from Roger's arms, stood up, and said:

  "Come! Even if there is no longer anyone to summon us to supper we ought to eat something. In God is now our only hope; but I hold that He helps those who help themselves, and it would be flying in His face not to try to keep up our strength."

  "Well said, my sweet," Roger murmured, and although he still felt groggy, he found that he could now walk to the table without assistance. Georgina stubbornly refused to join them, protesting that even a morsel of food would choke her; but she made Jenny take a place after helping Clarissa to fetch some plates, cutlery and glasses.

  In a grim, brooding silence they forced themselves to swallow some of the remains left by their captors and to drink a few mouthfuls of wine. Most of the fruits brought aboard by the pirates were strange to them, and in other circumstances they would have sampled them all with interest, but, robbed of appetite by their fearful apprehensions, they hardly noticed what they ate; and they were still seated round the table in semi-darkness when the door was thrust open and the hunch-back came in.

  He spoke in some uncouth jargon of mingled Spanish and Carib, but the significance of his gesture was plain. He had been sent to order them out on deck.

  For a moment Roger contemplated rebellion, but he was still so feverish and weak that a child could have knocked him down. He had no doubts whatever that if he told the women to refuse to go they would be fetched, and it seemed better to go with them on the remote chance that by giving his life he might be able to save one of them in a crisis, rather than to remain behind and face the ghastly torture of not knowing what was happening to them. Rallying all his strength, he began to offer up frantic prayers for help, then led them from the cabin.

  Out on the deck the scene was reminiscent of that—now seeming to the prisoners a whole lifetime away—which had taken place barely ten days earlier when Circe had crossed the Tropic of Cancer. There was no canvas bath and the dais was lower, but on it was the same pair of big chairs which had been used as thrones, and to either side of an open space before them the whole ship's company was con­gregated.

  The thrones were occupied by Joao de Mondego and Lucette. In front of them was an upended cask of rum, the top of which had been stove in. Everyone present held a pannikin and most of the men were still avidly lapping down their first tot. As the captives appeared they were greeted with cheers, boos and cat-calls. The hunch-back led them up to the cask, pannikins were produced from somewhere and Pedro the Carib, who was doing the honours behind it, ladled out a portion equivalent to a fifth of a bottle for each of them; then ordered them to drink it.

  Amanda and Jenny only sipped theirs; Clarissa took a mouthful, then choked and spluttered; Georgina flung hers at Pedro's feet.

  Instantly Lucette's voice rang out: "Fill for her again, Pedro. If the noble Countess abuses more of our good liquor we will make her lick it up off the deck."

  A shout of laughter greeted her threat. Pedro refilled the pannikin and again handed it to Georgina. Roger said in English loud enough for those with him to hear. "For God's sake drink the stuff, and more if you can get it. 'Twill deaden your sensibilities."

  Obediently, between chokes and gasps, they swallowed the fiery liquor. Then the hunch-back led them to a wooden bench, placed opposite the dais but some distance from it, and signed to them to sit down. A moment later he seized Roger's arms from behind, thrust a cord between them and his back, then drew it tight and knotted it firmly. Instinctively Roger strove to free himself, but his struggles only provoked more raucous laughter from the spectators: and, having secured his arms, the hunch-back next firmly lashed his ankles, so that should he stand up with the intention of moving forward he would fall flat on his face.

  His last hope was gone of grabbing a knife from someone and, perhaps, bringing this ghastly parry to a premature end by stabbing Joao or Lucette; his left eye was now completely closed, but with the other he took stock of the assembly. Including Joao, Lucette, Pedro, and the hunch-back, the prize crew numbered only a dozen, with probably a man at the wheel and another on look-out duty.

  Bloggs was present with nine of his cronies, and all eight of the Porto Ricans.

  The ship's fiddler had been one of Bloggs's following from the start; and now, seated on a chair in front of the rum barrel, he struck up a merry tune. Darkness had come with the swiftness usual in the tropics, but the bizarre scene was lighted by lanterns hung in the rigging. Some of the men began a rhythmic clapping, then four of them came out on to the circle of deck amidships that had been kept clear and danced a hornpipe.

  After it the revellers lined up for another tot of rum. Then one of the pirates sang a soulful ballad in a deep baritone. The ship was moving almost silently over the deep waters, and in any other circum­stances the captives would have been enraptured by his untutored talent; but, as things were, they could only listen with an awful apprehension of what might yet befall them as the night advanced.

  Thunderous applause led to an encore, but after it the less musical among the men had had enough and called loudly for a country dance. Marshalled by Pedro the Carib, they formed two lines, and to the scraping of the fiddle began to tap their feet, bob awkwardly at one another, then utter loud shouts and leap about in a travesty of a gavotte.

  The country dance was followed by more rum, then a succession of rollicking choruses in which the French-speaking pirates, the English mutineers and the Spanish-reared Porto Ricans at first were given a hearing in turn, but later endeavoured to out-shout one another; so that their combined voices merged into an ear-splitting babel of sound.

  At length, when the din subsided, someone called for a pavan.

  Most of them had asked others to be their partners, when one of the Circe's men came up to Jenny and said: "Please, Missy, will 'e dance wi' me?"

  Jenny cast an anxious glance round, but there seemed nothing for It but to accept. Reluctantly she stood up. The sailor put his arm round her and whirled her away. Others nearby saw them move off and swiftly followed his example. Half a dozen claimants squabbled over which of them should lead out Clarissa, Georgina and Amanda. Two free fights ensued, but those not involved seized upon the three girls and pulled them willy-nilly into the dance.

  Roger now sat on the bench alone, suffering the worst torments that hell has to offer. He had fooled Catherine the Great of Russia, defied a Spanish Prime Minister, beaten the unscrupulous Fouché at his own game, tricked France's Minister of War, the shrewd Carnot, stood up to Robespierre, Danton, Hubert, and a legion of other evil, ruthless men. He had caused a Spanish hidalgo to be hung from a lamp-post, and had slain the finest swordsman in all France in single combat: but now, against this filthy, villainous, verminous, brainless, besotted crew he was utterly helpless.

  Staring with his single good eye at his wife in the close embrace of a bearded, broken-nosed ruffian, he cursed the day when he had opposed his old master's wish that he should return to France, and instead lightly declared his intention of going off to the West Indies.

  Better a thousand times Paris in the throes of Revolution, with all its horrors, squalor and dangers, for they were things with whic
h, given courage and wits, one stood a fair chance of coping.

  Yet, when the dance ended, to his unutterable relief, the partners of the four women brought them back to the bench. The night was hot and they were panting from the exertions to which they had been forced, but otherwise showed no ill effects from their unwelcome experience.

  Soon the fiddler struck up again, and this time there was a wild scramble to secure the women as partners. Bloggs was in the forefront of the rush, and buffeting two other applicants aside with his huge fists seized upon Jenny. Lucette had taken the deck with Joao. Pedro grabbed Georgina, a British seaman Amanda and one of the Porto Ricans Clarissa.

  The moon had risen silvering the sea. Again Roger crouched on the bench, straining against his bonds in agony of mind while the nightmare dance went on; but once more all the women were brought decorously back when from temporary exhaustion the fiddler ceased his scraping.

  Now that Pedro had abandoned his post at the rum barrel the men were helping themselves, and some were already reeling about the decks so drunk that they were barging into their fellows. It was then that one of the Circe's men shouted: "The Mermaid! Come, Mermaid, show us your pretty tail!"

  The cry was taken up by the rest of the mutineers, and some of them volubly explained to the pirates about the fancy-dress that Clarissa had worn at the crossing of the Tropic of Cancer. Soon a deputation was crowding round her, urging her to don her Mermaid's costume. Her face, paper-white, she stubbornly refused, but one of Bloggs's friends, known as Marlinspike Joe, shouted at her:

  "Go put it on wench, or we'll strip you and put it on for you."

  Stark fear in her blue eyes, Clarissa looked at Amanda. Feeling that worse might befall unless the raucous crew were humoured, Amanda nodded, and beckoned to Jenny. Together the three women stood up and walked towards the cabins beneath the poop, followed by Marlinspike Joe and a few of his companions.

  While they were away the bulk of the crew began to sing again. They had reached the stage when bawdy songs claimed priority over all else, and for the next quarter of an hour obscenities in French, English and Spanish echoed out over the tranquil moonlit waters.

  They died away in a triumphant shout from the starboard entrance to the after cabins. Marlinspike Joe and his friends emerged bearing shoulder high on a scantling Clarissa in her Mermaid's costume.

  At the sight of her the men broke into a ragged drunken cheer, interspersed with shouted comments of indescribable indecency. Her bearers set her down in front of the two thrones and for a few minutes she was subjected to a hail of ribald comment. With a view to moderat­ing her previous appearance in the role, she had not brushed out her hair, and wore a cloak draped over the upper part of her body, but when her bearers had lowered the scantling to the dais. Marlinspike Joe pulled the cloak from her, so that her naked shoulders gleamed white in the moonlight. There fell a sudden hush and one could almost hear the intake of breath as scores of eyes fastened upon her.

  Lucette leant forward and shouted at the fiddler: "Play man; play a dance."

  Bloggs was standing near her and asked her to partner him. She hesitated only a moment, then agreed. The fiddler struck up and once again the deck was filled with a mass of lurching couples. But Joao did not rise from his chair and Marlinspike Joe remained standing just below him, his lecherous gaze riveted on Clarissa. Suddenly he leant forward, grasped Clarissa's tail and dragged it from her. Beneath it she had on only her shift and now her bare legs were displayed up to the knee for all to see.

  With a drunken laugh Joao bent down, caught her in his arms and lifted her on to his knees. Her scream rang out above the fiddler's music. Everyone stopped dancing. Lucette thrust Bloggs from her and marched up to the dais.

  "Enough!" she cried. "Put down that wench, or it will be the worse for you when we reach our lair."

  "To hell with that!" he shouted back. "I claim a Captain's privilege. Tonight this pretty baggage sleeps with me."

  chapter VII

  ORDEAL BY MOONLIGHT

  The moon was now high in a cloudless sky. Its brilliant light eclipsed the stars and dimmed that of the lanterns hanging in the rigging. Flooding the scene it splashed the deck with jagged patches of silver between the stark black shadows of the groups of revellers, and threw their features into sharp relief.

  But Clarissa's scream had brought an abrupt pause in their revelry. The fiddler stopped his scraping, feet no longer stamped and shuffled on the deck, all movement ceased; the whole company had become as rigid as though suddenly turned to stone by the baleful glare from a Medusa's head.

  Every face was turned towards the dais. Upon it Joao still sat enthroned, one of his long arms tightly encircling Clarissa's waist. She lay where he had dragged her, half sprawled across his knees. Her face had flushed scarlet and, sobbing with shame, she buried it in her hands; but she could not hide her naked legs and shoulders. Lucette stood just below them, her arms akimbo, her fine head thrown back. All eyes were riveted upon the group. The tropic night was warm and still. Even the seamen who were drunk held their breath as they awaited the outcome of the quarrel. Lucette's voice rang out. It was loud and angry, but Rodger detected a nervous tremor in it.

  "You will sleep alone!" she shouted. "Leave the little one be! I'll not permit that you should have your pleasure of her."

  "So you're jealous, eh?" Joao retorted, with an ugly leer.

  "Nay!" she brazenly flung back. "'Twas only your repertoire of strange blandishments that has reconciled me these past few weeks to waking each morning with your skull's-head next to mine. Now they are stale to me, and among the new men aboard there are others I have a mind to try as bedfellows. I care not for you, nor who is the first to rape her once we get ashore; but I am determined that you shall follow the rules of our fraternity."

  "Well and what are those rules?" he cried mockingly. "By ancient custom it is declared that a Captain should have first pick of any captured women. After that, lots are drawn by all and a roster made by which each watch of the night some man gets his turn with one or other, till all have spliced each of them. Then come the daily auctions for further turns; the highest bidder securing first choice and the cash going into a common kitty. What could be fairer? I stand by it, and claim nought but a Captain's right to take this tender chick's maiden­head—if so be she still has one to be taken."

  A guffaw of laughter greeted the sally with which he ended. It drowned the groan that Roger could not stifle. He could close his one good eye to the scene but not his ears, and Joao's brutal words confirmed his worst fears, bearing out all that he had heard of the customs -of the pirates. His bound hands were clasped behind him, and in an attempt to alleviate his agony of mind by agony of body he dug his nails into his palms with all the strength he could muster.

  A sudden rustle and heavy thump beside him caused him to open his eye. Amanda had slid from the bench on to the deck in a dead faint. Beyond the place she had occupied Georgina and Jenny sat, clinging to one another, their faces dead white, their eyes staring in horrified apprehension. But no one even glanced at Amanda as she fell, for Lucette was speaking again.

  "You are no Captain," she declared, "only a lieutenant given the task of bringing this prize back to our rendezvous. When M. le Vicomte decided to leave the women on board he charged me with their care. 'Tis he, and he alone, who has a Captain's rights over them, and I am answerable to him. I give not a jot what he does to you, but I've no mind to have him throw me to his crocodiles for having failed to protect his interests."

  Releasing his hold on Clarissa, so that she slid half fainting to his feet, Joao stood up, stepped over her prostrate form and down on to the deck. Thrusting his face forward into Lucette's, he snarled:

  "So I'm no Captain, eh? You spawn of hell, I'll soon teach you that I am, and one whose word is law aboard this ship."

  She gave back a pace, but cried defiantly: "You besotted fool! Were you not drunk you would never have the courage to court M. le Vicomte's anger. You h
ave but to wait a week at most to enjoy the wench in accordance with our rules, but do so this night and he'll have you flayed alive. Even a moron would have the sense to wait that long rather than pay such a price."

  "Nay, I'll not wait an hour," he bellowed. "M. le Vicomte may be harsh but he is just. Having made me Captain of the prize he'll not take umbrage that I should have exercised a Captain's rights."

  "You fool yourself!" Lucette began hotly, but broke off short owing to an unexpected diversion. Unseen by Roger, who had again bowed his head in helpless misery, Georgina had risen from the bench and walked forward until she was confronting Joao. Her voice was low but clear as she said in French.

  "Perhaps I can provide a solution to this difficulty. It seems to me that Madame Lucette is right, and that should you take this girl you may pay for it with your life. But there can be no rule against your taking a woman who offers herself freely. Besides she is of tender years and untutored; so would provide you only with poor sport. Since you are so set on having a bedfellow I volunteer to take her place."

  Her words filled Roger with mingled feelings of sickening revolt and admiration. All his life he had loved Georgina. She had meant more to him that even Athenals de Rochambeau or his dear Amanda, and the thoughts of her submitting herself to the embrace of this loathsome skull-headed creature filled him with horror. Yet he knew that she had slept with many men, some of whom she had not even cared for; so the ordeal would prove less ghastly for her than for a young virgin like Clarissa. Her bid to save the girl was but one more demonstration of her splendid courage, and on tenter-hooks between fear for her and dread for Clarissa, he listened for Joao de Mondego's answer.