The Dark Secret of Josephine rb-5

by Dennis Wheatley

  At about three o'clock Georgina at last came round but, mercifully, almost at once fell again into a torpor. By then the pain of Roger's wound had dulled to an ache which was supportable as long as he remained quite still; and since he had been lying almost motionless all day with his coat rigged like a tent over his face he was not plagued by thirst to the same degree as the others.

  Some of them, crouching between the thwarts with their heads similarly buried, managed to doze fitfully for short periods but their physical distress was too acute for them to free then: minds from it for more than a few minutes at a time. They were, too, constantly a prey to the terrifying thought that as they lacked the strength to propel the boat it might be earned by adverse currents out into the open ocean, where they must die in circumstances too horrible to contemplate.

  At last the fiery sun began to lose a little of its terrible potency and when it had sunk to within some twenty degrees of the western horizon Dan roused those of his companions who were capable of rowing, urging them to man the oars in a new effort.

  In voices made hoarse by thirst they argued against undertaking any fresh exertion before the sun had set, but he pointed out that the injured were in urgent need of proper attention. Within the past hour they had picked out a tiny white patch high up on a headland which jutted out from the coast some distance to the west. There could now be little doubt that it was a large house, and if they could beach the boat below it they could hope to find ready aid there; but if they waited until darkness to make the attempt they might miss the point by miles. As a final incentive he added that if with sundown the sky became overcast, veiling the stars, they might lose their direction altogether, and so fail to get ashore at all.

  They needed no telling that if dawn found them still several miles from the coast another day like that which was all too slowly ending would be the finish of them; so they agreed to the sound sense of Dan's reasoning and set to rowing with renewed determination.

  When the sun at last went down they were still a long way from the promontory, yet near enough to see that the house upon it was a big building in the French Colonial style and so, presumably, the residence of a wealthy planter. With straining muscles, aching backs and rasping throats the rowers doggedly continued their pulling, but half an hour later they had to give up from sheer exhaustion. Lights had now appeared in the house; so with a single oar thrust out from the stern of the boat Dan was just able to keep her nosing at tortoise pace towards the beacon it now formed, although a slow current from the east threatened to carry them beam on past the cape while they were still a mile or more from it.

  Dan could do no more, and it was Clarissa who stepped into the breach. Impelled, by the desperate need for getting Roger ashore she insisted that even the weakest of them must now play their part by double banking the men who had so far done the rowing. Then she appealed to Kilick and Monsieur Pirouet, urging that even if the one lost a lot of blood from the wound in his shoulder and the other collapsed, they should risk that for the common good in a final bid to save the whole party.

  Both men willingly agreed, and while they double banked Jake and Fergusson, Jenny and Clarissa shared oars with Wilson and Dan. It proved a grim struggle, but the leeway the boat was making was promptly checked and soon it was moving slowly forward through the darkness. About nine o'clock, to their unutterable relief, it grounded on a beach no more than half a mile, west of the cape for which they had been making.

  For a time they simply sat slumped over their oars, gasping, aching, and incapable even of savouring the fruits of their hard-won victory by landing on Saint-Domingue. But as soon as they had had a chance to recover a little Amanda took charge of the situation. Her wrenched arm had made, it impossible for her to help at an oar, but during the final phase she had captained the boat by taking the tiller. Now, as the others were still so done up that they hardly knew what they were doing, she called on each by name and directed them how best to lend a hand in getting the wounded ashore.

  Within a quarter of an hour the operation was safely completed; then they all sank down utterly wearied-out on the sandy shore some dozen yards above the tide level. But there could be no real rest for them yet. From the jolting Roger had received he was again in great pain, Kilick had not spared himself once he had taken an oar so his shoulder was now causing him to utter half sobbing curses, Georgina had again become semi-conscious and was moaning pitifully, while Tom, whom they feared had developed brain fever, was rolling from side to side in the throes of delirium.

  Although the lights of the house were no longer visible, they knew that it could not be any great distance away along the crest of the tree-covered slope that ran steeply up from the foreshore; but such was the state of weakness to which they had been reduced that they could not possibly have carried the injured up there. So, after a brief respite, it was decided that Fergusson and Dan should act as an advance party with the object of getting help.

  Fortunately the trees, which they had seen only as a distant screen of green by daylight, turned out to be palms growing in a sandy soil; so their fears that they might have to fight their way through dense undergrowth proved unfounded. But some forty minutes after they had set out the main party were much concerned to hear the faint barking of several dogs, followed by the sound of shots.

  Twenty minutes later Dan and the Doctor reappeared a little way along the beach, staggered towards them and flung themselves down in the last stages of fatigue. When they could get enough breath back they gasped out that about fifty yards from the house they had been set upon by three fierce mastiffs, then someone had come out and fired both barrels of a shotgun blind in their direction. The pellets, evidently aimed high to avoid harming the dogs, had rattled harmlessly through the foliage overhead, but the warning had been too dangerous to ignore, and they had been much too fully occupied in saving them­selves from being savaged to attempt a parley; so there had been nothing for it but to beat an ignominious retreat.

  Bitterly disappointing as was the abortive outcome of their mission, they could not be blamed for having failed to stand their ground until they could satisfy the man who had fired the gun that he had nothing to fear from them; for in their sadly weakened state it had required great fortitude to climb the hill at all. But the fact remained that the party had now no alternative other than to spend the night where it was.

  At least they were lucky in the type of beach on which they had landed, as they were able to scoop out troughs in the soft sand and so lie down without discomfort; but in other ways they were very far from being at ease. With the going down of the sun they had ceased to suffer from raging thirsts, but they were still subject to intermittent cravings, during which they would have given a great deal for a cup of water, and m one or more places nearly all of them were now being tortured by that ceaseless agonizing scorching of the skin which results from severe sunburn.

  Yet there was nothing the uninjured could do to alleviate the sufferings of the injured or themselves; so they settled down as well as they were able to wrestle with their miseries while the hours of darkness lasted.

  At first light Dan and the Doctor, this time accompanied by Wilson and Jake, and all armed with thick staves to drive off the dogs, again started for the house. Again the others heard the distant baying of hounds but no shots followed, and somewhat over an hour after the reconnaissance party had set out it returned with a richly dressed white man and a score of cotton-clad negroes and negresses.

  The leader of the newcomers was introduced by Fergusson as the Seigneur de Boucicault. He was a big fair-haired florid man aged about fifty, and the owner of the house. Bowing to the ladies he apologized profusely for the misunderstanding which had prevented him from coming to their aid the previous night, and explained that on the dogs giving the alarm he had thought an attack was about to be made upon the house by a band of marauders.

  His slaves had brought down fruit, wine, a medicine chest, and hammocks in which to carry up the injured;
so within a short time the worst distress of the castaways had been alleviated. Yet it was a sorry crew that made its way up to the house about an hour later. In addition to Roger and Tom all four women had to be carried, and the others had to be helped at the steeper places. Dirty, bedraggled, their hair matted, their faces peeling and puffy from insect bites, their hands blistered, their eyes feverish and sunken, they at last came to shelter and safety in the cool lofty rooms of the gracious colonial mansion.

  De Boucicault made them all drink a strong infusion of Cinchona bark to ward off Yellow Jack, and Fergusson, although in a worse state than some of the other men, insisted on seeing all the injured put to bed; then he too allowed himself to be helped to undress and, like the rest, fell into a sleep of utter exhaustion.

  Roger slept the clock nearly twice round then lay dozing for a long while; so it was not until the following afternoon that he was urged by returning appetite to ring the handbell that had been placed beside his bed. The summons was answered by a negro houseman who in due course brought him a tray on which was a cup of bouillon, boiled chicken and fruit.

  He was just finishing the meal when Fergusson came in, and Roger asked him anxiously for news of the others. The young doctor replied that Georgina was suffering from shock and concussion, but in a better state than might have been expected and, owing to her youth and vitality, in no serious danger. Tom was now giving him more concern as he had undoubtedly developed brain fever and it yet remained to be seen if he would survive the crisis. Amanda too was in poor shape. Her strained arm was nothing to worry about; but although she had bravely refrained from complaining during their ordeal of the previous day she must have been in great pain, as her stomach was black and blue from a vicious kick one of the pirates had given her, and it was possible that she had sustained internal injuries. Kilick's shoulder was badly inflamed from his having manned an oar during their last bid to reach the beach, but should yield to treatment. The rest of them had met for a midday meal and were the worse for their adventure only by cuts, bruises and inflammation. Then he said that, having heard that Roger was awake, he had come up to re-examine his wound.

  Roger submitted to some painful prodding, after which Fergusson declared himself satisfied that his first diagnosis had been correct. The bone of the thigh had not been smashed; and, as within a very short time of the wound being received it had been thoroughly cleansed with salt water, it showed no signs of festering. Providing Roger remained in bed the healthy flesh should soon heal and he might hope to be about on crutches in a week or so.

  Having anointed his mosquito bites with a soothing ointment and promised to convey his loving messages to Amanda, the doctor left him, but returned in the evening bringing a sedative to ensure him a good night.

  With his breakfast tray next morning the negro servant brought an enquiry from M. de Boucteault, who wished to know if Roger felt well enough to receive a visit from him; and he sent back a reply that he would be happy to do so:

  An hour or so later the burly French nobleman arrived. Having congratulated Roger on his wound being less serious than had been feared he sat down beside his bed, and said:

  "I have heard something from the doctor of the terrible trials to which you and your partly have been subjected during the past week, but he was kept busy with his patients most of yesterday; none of the ladies have so far left their rooms, and the others lack the educa­tion to speak of their adventures with much coherence; so I pray you, Monsieur le Gouverneur, if you feel well enough, to give me an account of these most distressing happenings."

  Roger raised a smile as he repeated: "The past week! It seems more like a year since the pirate barque attacked our ship off the coast of Porto Rico. But now that I have slept my fill I should thoroughly enjoy talking for a whiles so, Monsieur, I will willingly oblige you." He then proceeded to give a graphic description of the perils he and his party had survived.

  When he had done de Boucicault said: "That you should be alive to tell this tale thanks must be rendered to le Bon Dieu, but it is due in part at least to the courage displayed by yourself and your com­panions, and I am honoured to make your acquaintance. I need hardly say that you are all welcome to remain here for as long as you wish; but without intending any discourtesy I should be glad if the ladies could be transferred to Mole St. Nicholas as soon as they are sufficiently recovered to travel."

  "I am sorry that you should find it inconvenient to let them stay here until my wound is healed and we can all leave together," Roger replied in some surprise.

  "No, no! You must understand me," de Boucicault rejoined nastily. "Surely you know that war, revolution and civil war are all now tearing this island apart; so that no white persons, particularly defence­less women, are really safe anywhere in it except in the towns held by British troops. It is the certain knowledge of the ghastly fate which would overtake your ladies did they fall into the hands of the revolted negroes that causes me to urge their removal as speedily as may be possible."

  chapter xiv

  THE TERROR-RIDDEN ISLAND

  Roger's face fell, then he admitted a shade apologetically to his host: "I fear I am but sadly ill-informed about West Indian affairs, my appointment came as a surprise and I had little time to study them before I left England. I knew, of course, that as a result of the Revolution in France there had been revolts among the slaves in all the islands, and that here they were said to have been particularly serious; but I imagined that they would have been put down ere this seeing that, as in Martinique, the planters had called in the English to aid them against the Terrorists."

  "Far from it," de Boucicault sadly shook his head. "There are British garrisons in the capital, Port-au-Prince, at Mole St. Nicholas, which is only about thirty miles away, and in most of the coastal towns; but they can do little more than aid our army of colonists and loyal mulattoes to hold its own. The greater part of the interior of the country is still at the mercy of the negroes and infested by marauding bands of slaves turned brigand."

  Having condoned with his host on this unhappy state of things, Roger said: "Pray enlighten me if you can, Monsieur, as to why matters should have gone so much worse here than in the other islands."

  "Perhaps because it was the largest, richest and most progressive of all the French possessions in the Indies, and therefore more closely en rapport with popular feeling in the mother country. Possibly, too, because we had here a higher proportion of slaves than in any other colony. In '89 there were half a million negroes and sixty thousand mulattoes to only forty thousand whites. Although, as a matter of factj it was not the blacks but the mulattoes who initiated our long chain of troubles."

  "How so, Monsieur?"

  "Looking back I am inclined to think that we colonists were largely to blame for having stubbornly refused to advise our government in France to rectify the anomalous situation of these half-castes. Had we confined ourselves to taking their women as concubines, as you English do, that would have been regarded as a normal privilege of the ruling caste, but many of us married them: yet we still refused to receive their families or grant them any political rights. A high proportion of them were free men who between them owned about ten per cent of the land and some 50,000 slaves. Naturally they bitterly resented such contemptuous treatment. A group of the more in­telligent among them began, as early as '88, an agitation in Paris for equal rights; and coupled with it there started a movement for the abolition of both the slave trade and slavery.

  "While the monarchy remained absolute these agitations for reform made no headway, but soon after King Louis summoned the States General and it had formed itself into a National Assembly, it issued its famous Declaration of the Rights of Man. Mulattoes and negroes alike instantly seized on that as their Charter, and unrest here became widespread. In March 1790, alarmed by the urgent representations of our Governor, the Assembly passed a resolution to the effect that the Declaration applied only to France and not to her colonies. On that, a mulatto delegate named V
incent Oge, who arrived back here in the following autumn, called on his fellows to secure their rights by force of arms. It was thus there started the appalling bloodshed which has since drenched this country."

  "You interest me greatly. Do please continue."

  Acceding to the request, de Boucicault went on: "Oge was soon defeated and took refuge in the Spanish part of the island. But he afterwards surrendered and was executed by being broken on the wheel. By then the revolution in Paris was gaining momentum, and the news of Oge's martyrdom, as it was termed, provoked a great outcry. In consequence, in May '91, the law was amended giving coloured people born of free parents in the French colonies equal civil rights, including that of sitting in our Assemblies.

  "For the white minority to submit to a decree which might later lead to their being governed by negroes was unthinkable. We decided to ignore it; but the news of it soon got about and set the whole island in a ferment, which culminated on the unforgettable night of August the 23rd.

  "A Jamaican negro named Boukman assembled a large number of slaves in the forest. He was a giant in size and a Houngan, as the priests of Voodoo are termed. After sacrificing a pig and drinking its blood the mob he had collected set out to slay and burn. The move­ment spread like a prairie fire through the north and west, and for a week or more there ensued the most appalling butchery of the white planters and their families. Not content with killing the men and raping the women, the blood-maddened negroes put their victims to the most excruciating tortures—such as binding them between two planks and sawing them in half. In their senseless fury they also attacked inanimate objects, setting fire to houses, barns, crops and forest, until the blaze was such that the inhabitants of distant Bermuda -were puzzled and alarmed by the red glow in the sky.