The Dark Secret of Josephine rb-5

by Dennis Wheatley

  From Roger's first long talk. with, de Boucicault onward, except during the rest hours that Fergusson insisted that he should observe, he had an almost constant stream of visitors. Clarissa slipped into his room shortly after de Boucicault had left him and laughingly pooh-poohed his no more than half serious reprimand that she was outraging convention by remaining there without a chaperon. Dan's bronzed, black-bearded face peeped in at the door that evening and he was gladly bidden to enter. Roger's host came to have a talk with him every morning, Jenny brought him news of Georgina every evening, and from the third day Amanda was well enough to sit with him for long periods. Monsieur Pirouet had invaded the kitchen to cook special dishes for the invalids, and when Roger sent for him to thank him he learned that the French chef was greatly enjoying himself taking lessons in Creole cooking from de Boucicault's hugely fat and jolly old negress cook. The other three men in turn asked permission to come and pay their respects, and he learned that they had all voluntarily taken up some form of work about the place, finding it a pleasant change from their normal activities. So the days in the big comfortable house passed quickly and happily.

  On the eighth day after their arrival, as Fergusson had predicted, Roger was able to try out a pair of crutches that had been knocked up for him, and on the ninth Georgina made her first appearance downstairs. The following day being a Sunday—the second in December —the whole party with the one exception of Tom, gathered in the chapel of the house to give thanks for their merciful deliverance. Tom's appetite having been revived by the tempting delicacies Monsieur Pirouet thought up for him, he was now getting back a little of his strength, but no further news of Toussaint's movements had been received, and it was clear that their coming had made such a pleasant break in de Boucicault's lonely life that he would now be most loath to see them go. Moreover, they could hardly have found better quarters in which to convalesce, as at the back of the house there was a terrace with a splendid view over the rocks to the blue bay, and up there on the point they reaped the full benefit of the light sea breezes. So still no definite date had been fixed for their departure.

  It was during the night of December the 13th-14th that de Boucicault's first fears were suddenly and alarmingly confirmed. Shortly before two o'clock a panting negro roused the house by beating frantically on its heavy front door. Eloi, the old grey-haired butler, aided by his two footmen, Zabeth and Theodule, were reviving the man with neat rum when de Boucicault came hurrying downstairs.

  The negro proved to be one of de Boucicault's outposts, and directly he saw his paymaster he gasped out the news that a column of General Toussaint's men with a number of wagons were advancing along the coast road. He would have known nothing of it had he not been roused owing to the still night, to which he was accustomed, being broken by the dull rumble of many wheels.

  When questioned further he said that he did not think there were more than thirty marchers, but they must be a part of Toussaint's army because the transport of brigand bands rarely consisted of more than a few donkeys, whereas these men were escorting something between twelve and twenty wagons. Having made it plain that, although he had run all the way to get as far ahead of them as possible, they could not now be much more than three miles off, he begged urgently that he might be given his reward so that he could make himself scarce well before their arrival.

  De Boucicault paid him off and at once sent Dan up to fetch Roger; then, while Dan was assisting Roger to dress, he assembled all the male inmates of the house in the big salon. There, he put the situation to them.

  He meant to remain in the house himself, but there was still time for any or all of them' to leave it and hide' in the woods. Anyone who elected to do that could be practically certain of evading Toussaint's men, but they would have to take the risk of being attacked by his dogs, because they were the only means he had of protecting his property; so he could not afford to refrain from turning them loose. On the other hand, the coast road ran over half a mile inland from the house, and it was quite possible that this transport column would pass by without even knowing of its existence. Lastly, in the worst event, it seemed unlikely that, including drivers, the column was much more than fifty strong, while they totalled sixteen who would be well armed behind stout defences; so if all of them remained, with the assistance of the dogs, they should stand a very good chance of beating off an attack.

  Led by old Eloi, the eight negro house slaves said that, as in previous emergencies, they were willing to stay with their master. The others all looked towards Roger for guidance, and he found himself in a very difficult position.

  Had he had only to think of himself he would at once have declared his intention of staying, as he felt under an obligation to help de Boucicault defend his property should the need arise; but he had also to think of the women, and their best interests must be placed before all other considerations. Although a night in the woods would be far from good for the still convalescent Georgina, and if they took Tom with them might cause him a serious setback, that was not a very high price to pay for an almost certain prospect of escaping Toussaint's men. But there remained the very unpleasant thought that the hungry pack, once loose, might attack white humans as well as blacks; so the crux of the matter was—could they get far enough from the house to be out of danger from the dogs in the limited time before de Boucicault would consider it imperative to release them? It was a very nasty decision to have to take and, after moistening his lips, he asked his host:

  "At what time do you intend to let out your wild dogs, Monsieur?"

  De Boucicault glanced at the Louis Seize clock on the mantel­piece and replied: "It is twenty-five minutes past two. By now this column must have advanced to between one and two miles of us. I have good hopes that they are not making for the house, but should they be they may arrive here any time after a quarter to three. I dare not leave the freeing of the pack later than twenty to; so if it is your intention to leave us, Monsieur le Gouverneur, you must hurry."

  "Nay," Roger shook his head. To get the women out and with himself only able to hobble, a quarter of an hour was too slender a margin. With a glance round the men of his own party he added: "The ladies and myself will remain here, and I recommend you to do so also."

  "Aye, aye, Cap'n," muttered Dan, and the others nodded in agree­ment

  Quickly now they set about preparing to defend the house. Fergusson went upstairs to warn the women what was afoot while de Boucicault unlocked a big cupboard under the main staircase and began to hand out weapons. There were more than enough muskets and pistols for all, with a plentiful supply of powder shot and side arms. Every window on the ground floor had stout shutters and they already had loopholes bored through them. Old Eloi and his companions took up the positions they had been allotted in similar emergencies, while de Boucicault posted the others to the best advantage, and impressed upon them that they were not to fire until he gave the word.

  As it was still bad for Roger to stand for any length of time without support, he had a small table, on which he could sit, placed for him­self opposite one of the shuttered slit windows on either side of the front door. He had hardly done so when Tom, pale and shaky but resolute, came downstairs and insisted that he was strong enough to lend a hand. He was followed by the women, who declared their intention of acting as loaders for the men. The next ten minutes passed in giving them a demonstration of how to handle the weapons swiftly and safely. Then de Boucicault went out to release the pack.

  Five minutes later Roger was endeavouring to reassure the girls, when their host came running back and burst in upon them, his ruddy face a picture of consternation.

  "We are betrayed!" he cried, striking his fist in furious anger against the jamb of the open doorway in which he stood panting. Many of the dogs are dead; the rest are vomiting and useless. Earlier tonight someone must have thrown poisoned meat in to them over the court­yard wall."

  "That settles it, then," said Roger grimly. "An attack is definitely inte
nded. But how could this column while still several miles distant nave known aught of your pack?"

  "Everyone in the district knows of it," came the prompt reply, "and Toussaint has spies everywhere. As I have told you he far sur­passes in intelligence the other negro generals. While planning his advance he would have learned about my dogs, and he must have sent some men ahead to ensure their destruction."

  It was too late to take to the woods, as they now had reason to suppose that the house was under observation, and the column might arrive on the scene within the next ten minutes; so to leave the house would have been to risk running right up against trouble in the open.

  All they could do was to make a final check up on their defences and pray that after a first assault so small a force might decide that the house was too tough a nut to crack. After barring the big door and loading every available fire-arm, they put out most of the candles and masked others, so that the rooms should appear to be in darkness; then stood at their posts anxiously awaiting the appearance of the enemy.

  The moon was up and brightly lit the wide sweep of the drive in front of the house, so they had a good field of fire on that side and there was an even better one at its back across a balustraded terrace to the garden; but they thought it unlikely that the attack would come from that direction as the depth of the garden was a bare hundred feet, ending in another balustrade, beyond which the ground dropped almost sheer to the sea. There remained the sides of the house, both of which were flanked by outbuildings; but Dan and Jake were up on the roof with two negroes named Chrysostome and Clovis, and from their greater height could shoot down on anyone who clambered up to the lower roofs on either side of them.

  Three o'clock came without sound or sign disturbing the moonlit vistas that the inmates of the house were watching with ever-growing tension. But at five past they caught the rustle and snap of broken bushes, and a moment later a body of men emerged from between the tall palms that fringed the long drive.

  They halted about a hundred yards from the house, but one of them continued to walk forward. De Boucicault, who had stationed himself near Roger behind the shuttered window on the other side of the front door, quickly passed the word that everyone should pick his man but refrain from firing until he did. The negro who was approaching was clad in a gaudy uniform with a tricolour sash draped across it, so was obviously an officer. Halting when he reached the foot of the steps, he cried m a high-pitched voice:

  "Open up! There are chinks of fight showing from some of your windows, so I can see you must be expecting us. I have wagons with me full of wounded, and require this house to shelter them. Open up now, or it will be the worse for you!"

  De Boucicault's only reply was to fire his musket Shot at point-blank range through the chest the officer fell dead at the foot of the steps. A second later a volley crashed out from the defenders of the house. Several of the negroes in the main body sank to the ground killed or wounded. Screams and curses suddenly made the night hideous. Those unhit replied with a ragged volley, then dashed for cover in the nearby bushes. The glass of broken windows crashed and tinkled, and bullets thudded into the shutters. There followed a brief silence while both sides reloaded and sought fresh targets.

  During it Roger said to de Boucjcault: "Was not your act a rash one? As he wanted the house for a hospital he would certainly not have destroyed it; and we might have made a pact with him to surrender it peaceably if he allowed us to leave it with the honours of war."

  The Frenchman grunted. "You do not understand these people. Pact or no pact our lives would not be worth a moment's purchase if we fell into their clutches. Besides, such a chance to kill their leader might not have occurred again. Now that he is dead they will all be at sixes and sevens and act without proper direction; so our chances of driving them off are increased tenfold."

  That he was right became evident during the next half-hour. A small group of the braver negroes attempted to rush one of the windows, and were driven off with severe losses. But apart from that no concerted action was taken; the others kept up only a desultory fire at the faint blurs of light that indicated the loopholes in the shutters.

  The garrison, intently watching the black shadows that contrasted so strongly with the silver moonlight, fired at every movement they saw, or thought they saw, among the oleanders, bougainvillaeas, and hibiscus. Occasionally a sharp cry told them that they had scored a hit, but another hour dragged by without the besiegers losing heart and abandoning the conflict, as it was still hoped they would.

  Just after half-past four one of the snipers sent a well-aimed shot through one of the loopholes. It laid open Theodule's cheek and smashed some of his back teeth. Amanda left Roger's side to do what she could for the wounded negro footman, and by the time she returned to her post the moon had gone down behind the palms.

  Starlight still lit the drive, although more faintly, and the attackers took advantage of the dimness to creep up closer to the house. Ten minutes later a dozen of them made a dash for the front door. Roger dropped one but de Boucicault's musket misfired, and once the group had reached the porch it was too close to the house for fire to be brought upon it from any of the windows. With heavy staves, an axe and musket butts the negroes beat frantically on the door, striving to break it in. They might have succeeded had it not been for Dan and his little party up on the roof. At the sounds of the commotion they ran to the front parapet and, leaning over, began to fire down on the attackers. Two of them were hit and the remainder panicked, flung away most of the things they were wielding and bolted for the bushes.

  Again there was a long spell of relative quiet, until Eloi came from the back of the house to tell his master that he felt sure he smelt smoke, and thought that some of the outbuildings had been set on fire.

  With an anxious glance at Roger, de Boucicault muttered: "Al­though I made no mention of it, that they might try to smoke us out is the one thing I feared." Then he hurried off to investigate.

  It transpired that the maize store was ablaze, but between it and the house was sandwiched the laundry, and de Boucicault felt that if they could well douse the roof and walls of the latter with water there would be a good chance of preventing the fire from spreading to the main building. Swiftly, he set about organizing two fire-fighting squads.

  The task of the party on the roof was an easy one, for they had only to carry buckets of water from the big cisterns up there and throw their contents down on to the lower level of the laundry; but to reach the walls of its interior the party below had to get out of the end window looking on to the terrace and either pass buckets, or run with them, the half-dozen yards to its entrance. Short as the distance was, it meant temporary exposure to the bullets of any of the attackers who might have posted themselves in positions from which they could enfilade the terrace; so de Boucicault transferred four of the defenders to first-floor windows at the back of the house to form a covering party, then led the ground floor fire-fighting squad in person.

  There ensued a short, sharp battle. Twice de Boucicault, Kilick and two negro grooms succeeded in getting buckets into the laundry. Shots spattered round them, and others in reply from the first floor windows whistied over their heads. Then, at the third sortie, one of the grooms went down, shot through the leg. Dropping their buckets, the others picked him up and got him back into the house, but while helping to do so de Boucicault was hit in the side.

  A few minutes later, sweat pouring down his face, he staggered into the main hall and gasped to Roger: "Come with me, please. I want a word with you in private."

  Obediently Roger followed him into a small room in which he had been used to deal with the business of the estate. Slumping into a chair, he said jerkily: "We'll have to give up. They hit two of us. If we don't they'll pick us off piecemeal. I fear I'm done for."

  "Don't say that!" exclaimed Roger, turning towards the door. "I'll get Doctor Fergusson."

  De Boucicault stayed him with an impatient gesture. "No good! One of those
black devils got me through the innards. Listen, Monsieur. I have little time left. Tell my wife—if you ever get to Mole St. Nicholas —how I died. But that's the rub. They've got the better of us. Your chances of getting there now are not worth ten sous."

  His face suddenly worked convulsively, then he was seized with a violent fit of coughing. After spewing up some blood into his handker­chief, he made a great effort, leaned forward, took from a drawer in his desk a small bottle filled with a pinkish liquid, and went on:

  "Unless the wind changes the fire will spread to the house. You will be tempted to surrender. Put the thought from you. I am thinking of the women. These fiends will not only violate them; they will mutilate them most horribly afterwards. I know; I have seen what they have done to others."

  Again a fit of coughing choked him. Then he handed the bottle to Roger and gasped: "There is wine in the dining-room. Put this in it Use any pretext to make them drink. In your place I would take some myself. It is a quick poison. By it you can save them from . . . from . . . Should things become hopeless, do not hesitate, I beg. This . . . this is a duty you owe to those you love."

  chapter xv

  THE CHOICE OF EVILS

  De Boucicault had barely finished laying this terrible charge upon Roger when he was gripped by another convulsion. A hideous rattling noise issued from his throat and a few moments later he slumped forward dead.

  No one could accuse Roger of lack of courage, but for once he had gone white to the lips, and could feel himself trembling. Reason told him that de Boucicault was right, but his every instinct made him cringe from the thought and he doubted if he could possibly bring himself to do this awful thing. With shaking hands he propped the dead man up in the chair, drew an antimacassar over his distorted face, and limped slowly from the room.