'Mistress Gale,' he gasped. 'For heaven's sake.'
She subsided, and regained the sheet. 'Mr Hilton, if you turn me out of here, they'll have tar and feathers to me arse before I reach the end of the drive. And what they'd do in town . . .'
'Surely you're exaggerating.'
'I'm not, Mr Hilton. Truly, I'm not. It's not the money, Mr Hilton. I'm in fear of me life. I made him happy, Mr Hilton. I swear I made him happy.'
Dick scratched his head some more. How he wanted just to lie down and go to sleep. But how the idea of lying down and going to sleep, or not as the case might be, was associated with that magnificent sight of a moment ago, and the even more magnificent sight he had just avoided. 'Well, of course,' he said. 'We'll have to make arrangements for your safety. Perhaps if you were to leave Jamaica . . .'
'Leave Jamaica?' she cried. 'I was born here, Mr Hilton. I've never been nowhere else.'
‘Ah. Well. .
'Just let me stay a while, Mr Hilton. I'll not be in your way. Just 'til the gossip dies down. It won't be long.'
'Hm. Yes, I suppose that would be the simplest thing. All right, Mistress Gale, you can stay, until you think it is safe to leave.'
'Oh, thank God. And thank you, Mr Hilton.' She started to move again, and he hastily backed to the door.
'I think you want to have a good rest,' he said. 'But perhaps you'd join my brother and me for lunch.'
'Your brother? Well, land's sakes. But it'll be a pleasure, Mr Hilton. I don't know how to thank you, Mr Hilton, really I don't.'
He gave her a smile, backed through the door, closed it behind him, and found himself sweating. And more than sweating. The sight of her, the sound of her, the smell of her, the very idea of her, and Uncle Robert, had him remembering Joan Lanken, and quite forgetting poor Ellen.
'Well, Mr Hilton? Does she leave now?'
He looked down the stairs. Clarissa Laidlaw waited there, and she had been joined by half a dozen other white women, some giving him a nervous smile, others attempting to look suitably severe.
'Ah,' he said, and began his descent. He could hear the clatter of a knife and fork from the dining room to suggest that Tony was still eating. 'Well, you see, Mrs Laidlaw, Clarissa, ladies, she has explained her circumstances, and I am inclined to agree that it would be heartless of me to set her in the street so to speak . . .'
'She's not going?' Clarissa Laidlaw's voice rose an octave.
'Well, not immediately. When she has got over her grief, and . . .'
'She's flashed her tits at you,' Clarissa Laidlaw shouted. 'That's what she's done.'
'Please, Clarissa.' He reached the bottom step. 'Well, of course . . .'
'I'll not stand for it,' Clarissa declared. 'We'll not stand for it. You must make up your mind, Mr Hilton. It's us or her. If she stays, we go. All of us. And we'll take our husbands with us.'
5
The Planter
Dick scratched his head. 'Now, really, ladies, please do not take on so. It will only be a short while, and then Mistress Gale will be gone.'
'A short while?' cried Clarissa Laidlaw.
'She'll be here forever,' said another voice.
'We know her like, Mr Hilton,' said a third.
'We'll get rid of her for you, Mr Hilton,' said a fourth. 'But tell us to do so.'
'Ah,' Dick said. 'That is exactly what she is afraid of. No, no, ladies. I have told her that she may stay for a while, and given her my promise that she will not be molested.'
Clarissa Laidlaw glared at him. 'And that is your last word on the matter?'
'Why, yes, I suppose it is, for the time being. Now, Clarissa, if you'd be good enough to introduce me . . .'
'That's it, then,' she declared. 'We leave. The moment our men come in from aback.'
'Leave?' Dick cried. 'You're not serious.'
'They say they're going,' Tony observed, from the dining room archway. 'Well, then, Mrs Laidlaw, I suggest you get on with it.'
She glanced at him, and flushed. 'There's the notice . . .' 'Just clear out,' Tony said. 'We'll forget the notice.' 'You can't speak to me like that,' she declared. 'You're not Mr Hilton.'
'What they are trying to do, Dickie boy,' Tony explained continuing to smile at the women, 'is to establish who really is the master here. You surrender to them now, and they'll have you waiting on table.'
'Really,' said one of the other women. Mrs Laidlaw appeared to have lost the power of speech.
It occurred to Dick that Tony, as usual, was absolutely right, that in fact Clarissa Laidlaw had been treating him like a slightly backward younger brother all morning.
Tony could read his expression. 'And it is always better to dismiss people than have them dismiss you,' he said. 'Ladies as of this moment, you are under twenty-four hours' notice to quit Hilltop. Oh, and take your husbands with you.'
'You . . . you . . . you'll not permit this, Richard,' Clarissa shouted.
'I'm afraid you have brought it on yourself,' Dick said. 'Of course, I'm perfectly willing to forget the whole business . . .'
'Never,' she cried. 'Not while that woman stays.'
She was looking up the stairs, and Dick turned his head; Harriet Gale, wearing the same crimson undressing robe as when he had first seen her and with her feet bare, was standing on the gallery above him.
'Christalmighty,' Tony remarked. 'Well, then, ladies, you'd best be off.'
'Mr Hilton,' began one of the other women.
'Out,' Tony commanded, advancing on them. 'What are the magic words, Mrs Laidlaw? I'll set the dogs on you. Or is it Absolom?'
The other women were already backing towards the door. But still Clarissa hesitated. 'You won't get away with this,' she said. 'You think you'll find other overseers? None like my Charlie. Your cane will rot. You'll go bankrupt. Hiltons. You think . . .'
'Boscawen,' Tony said, for the butler, and the other domestics, were hovering behind him in the pantry, listening to the row. 'Would you find this chap Absolom. Tell him to bring his stick.'
'Oh, you . . .' Clarissa Laidlaw turned and fled behind her companions.
'You were magnificent. Magnificent.' Harriet Gale descended the stairs, her undressing robe threatening to disintegrate at every movement.
'I wonder if we weren't a little hard,' Dick mused.
'Strength, boy, that's all any of these people understand,' Tony declared. 'Aren't you going to introduce us?'
'I do apologize. Harriet Gale, Anthony Hilton. Mr Hilton is my brother, Mistress Gale.'
'Me pleasure, Mr Hilton.' She gave Tony her hand, but withdrew it immediately to grasp Dick's arm. 'But your brother is right, you know. You must be strong. With those people no less than with the blacks.'
'Oh, no doubt,' he agreed. 'But supposing they carry out their threat. . .'
'Carry out their threat?' Tony demanded. 'You have dismissed them, Dickie boy. You can't change your mind now.'
'Oh, indeed, your brother is right, Mr Hilton,' Harriet said.
'Aye, well, when they have gone, who is going to manage the plantation?'
Harriet gave his arm a squeeze. 'Why, you are, Mr Hilton. It'll be in your blood. And besides, I'll show you.'
Laidlaw looked uncomfortable, shifted from foot to foot. 'I'm right sorry it had to come to this. That woman is a troublemaker. Oh, indeed, yes.'
'I'm afraid I don't agree with you at all,' Dick said. 'She is an extremely unfortunate woman. It would be betraying my inheritance were I to turn her into the street.' He spoke as evenly as he could, for all the churning misery that had been swelling in his belly throughout the day. What a beginning to his career as a planter. Whatever would Mama say? Or Ellen? He had a terrible suspicion that Ellen might well take the side of Clarissa Laidlaw. He couldn't be sure about Mama.
And even that became quite irrelevant beside the question of how the plantation was to be operated.
'Aye, well, if that's your attitude, there's naught more to be said.' Laidlaw looked down the drive at the town. The
scene reminded Dick of a Biblical exodus. Although he had not intended to press the matter, the white staff were leaving this very evening. The men had been informed of the situation when they had returned from the fields at eleven o'clock, and the packing had commenced immediately. Now each house was faced by a wagon, into which the domestic slaves were piling furniture and clothes, while children wailed and dogs barked and dust eddied. Laidlaw sighed. "Tis not a sight I'd ever expected to see on Hilltop. Man, this place was our home.'
'There is really no need to leave in such haste,' Dick pointed out. 'You're welcome to stay until you find accommodation, or new posts, elsewhere in the island.'
'Aye, well, 'tis the women, you understand, Mr Hilton. When they get their tails up, if you'll pardon the expression. Maybe if we could delay their departure, give them time to cool off. . .' He turned back, and checked, and Dick also turned to look at the stairs. Harriet Gale had rested, and now was dressed. She wore a pink riding habit and carried a pink tricorne in her hand; her cravat was white lace, bubbling under her throat, and her long dark hair lay straight down her back. She looked absolutely magnificent, and save for the shadows under her eyes there was no trace of discomfort from her drinking. Laidlaw sighed. 'They'll not, if she goes out like that.'
'I am going to show Mr Hilton his plantation,' she announced. 'Boscawen. Boscawen. Are the horses ready?'
'They's waiting, Mistress Gale.'
'I'll take my leave, Mr Hilton,' Laidlaw said. He glanced at Harriet. 'Your day, Mistress Gale. Your day. But wheels turn. Indeed they do.'
He clumped down the steps to his waiting mule. Dick took a step forward, and had his arm seized. 'You'll not weaken now, Mr Hilton,' she whispered. 'Then 'tis you would have to leave.'
He was shrouded in the scent of musk. He dared not look at her. 'I'm shivering like a jelly.' 'Ah, but no one would know it.'
'So they're off then.' Tony had also donned riding gear, and slapped his boots with his crop. 'Damned good riddance. Now then . ..'
'Aye,' Dick said. 'Now then. What do we do?' 'Well, as the heat is leaving the sun,' Harriet said, 'the gangs would normally be resuming work.' 'Supervised by bookkeepers.'
'Oh, indeed. They are lazy scoundrels, and will not work unless driven to it.'
'I'm sure you are too hard on them,' Dick said. 'And anyway, we have no bookkeepers to drive them.'
'But you have the drivers,' Tony said. 'I have been talking to that chap Merriman.'
'Merriman,' Dick exclaimed. 'By God. Joshua, are you there?'
'Well, here I am, Mr Hilton.' Merriman wore his hat and also carried a crop. ‘I’s best be getting back to town, or Mr Reynolds going have the Custos out after me.' He grinned at Dick. 'You's the master now, Mr Hilton. You's just got to show them boys, and they going obey you all right.' His right hand started to move, and then hastily dropped back to his side.
But Dick was gazing at him in delight, an idea forming in his mind. 'Joshua. You'll stay.' 'Eh? Mr Reynolds. . .'
'I'll send to Mr Reynolds. Make him an offer. Stay and be my overseer.' 'Mr, Mr Hilton?'
'A black man?' Harriet demanded. 'That is not possible.' 'Why not?'
'Well. . . I'm sure it's not legal.'
'Mistress Laidlaw told me I am the law, on Hilltop. You know planting, Joshua. You told me so.'
'Well, that is a fact, Mr Hilton.'
'You'll head the drivers,' Dick decided.
'I wonder if you are not being a little premature,' Tony said. 'Will the niggers follow one of their own people?'
'Or will they follow him too well?' Harriet suggested.
'They will follow us,' Dick said. 'Joshua will act for us. Now, Joshua, go down the hill and tell them I will address them in half an hour.'
'Yes, sir, Mr Hilton.' Joshua ran for his mule.
'Address them?' Tony inquired.
'You do not speak with those creatures, Mr Hilton,' Harriet said. 'They understand the whip, and nothing less.'
'Couldn't that be because they have never known anything different?' Dick asked. 'And in any event, surely they are entitled at least to see their new owner.'
'There's a point,' Tony agreed. 'Whips. We'll need whips. You have whips, Boscawen?'
'There's Mr Robert's big whip, sir.'
'Fetch it.'
'I'm not going to whip anyone,' Dick said. 'I'm going to speak with them.'
'Can't be too careful, old boy,' Tony said. 'Besides, the whip is the symbol of authority in these parts, eh? I've read all about it.'
'Your brother is right,' Harriet said. 'No white man should go amidst the blacks without a whip.'
'Oh, very well,' Dick said. 'You can carry the whip, Tony. Shall we go?'
He led them down the stairs, climbed into the saddle; the waiting grooms held the stirrup and made a back for Harriet, and she settled herself side saddle, right knee high, pulling gloves over her fingers. It occurred to Dick that she was the loveliest sight he had ever seen. But what an amazing thought. He had only left Ellen and Mama five weeks before. And yet, it was a thought quite in keeping with his surroundings, the heat and the dust and the glaring sun, and his position, sitting on a horse in front of a magnificent house, also his, having dismissed with a wave of his hand some thirty employees, and now about to face up to ... he had no idea how many more. Surely he was dreaming all of this. Or he had dreamed all of his previous existence. But there was the truth of the matter. The old cliche that the West Indies were a different world was absolutely true.
'Well?' Tony was also mounted, the huge bull whip resting in front of him on his horse's neck.
Dick kicked his mount, moved slowly down the hill. First the town had to be passed, and the bookkeepers stopped in their work to watch him. He expected more than just looks, but they offered no comments. Again, this was not England, where one man was as good as the next, at least in physical matters. As Clarissa Laidlaw had truly said, he was the master, the law itself, within the valley of Hilltop, and no one would risk his anger. He felt almost sick with excitement.
The town was behind him, and he faced the village, and the largest crowd he had ever seen, or so it seemed. He drew rein, and watched Joshua spurring up the rise towards him.
'They's waiting, Mr Hilton.'
'Good man. How many are there?'
Joshua rolled his eyes. 'A good number, sir. A good number.' 'There are one thousand and fifty-three slaves on Hilltop, at the last count,' Harriet said. 'Good Lord. How do you know?'
'Your uncle kept a very careful tally,' she said. 'Now, there were three women due to deliver, last week. But I do not know if they have, and if the piccaninnies were born alive.'
Dick frowned at her; she might have been speaking of a herd of cattle.
She returned a smile. 'That is something you have to deal with as well. But I will help you. I love watching the births.'
'Eh? Oh. Good Lord.' Watch a birth? He walked his horse down the hill, Joshua failing in at his rear, and checked again. 'What on earth are they guilty of?'
He pointed at the four triangles, each filled with a naked black man, suspended by the wrists, feet dragging in the dust.
'Well, I ain't knowing that, Mr Hilton,' Joshua confessed. 'You got for ask Absolom.'
The drivers waited in a group in front of the slaves, dominated by the bulk of Absolom. Dick turned his horse towards them.
'Why are those fellows suspended?'
'They're waiting for the lash, Mr Hilton, sir,' Absolom said. 'I does beat them, but a bookkeeper got for be present.' 'And their crime?'
'Well, sir, they does be insolent and lazy fellows. Mr Laidlaw done say so.'
'Ah. Well, cut them down.' 'Sir?'
'Cut them down. This is my first day on Hilltop, and there'll be no whipping today. Haste, man.'
'They should be whipped,' Harriet said. 'A flogging does them good.'
'Let's call it an amnesty,' he said. 'My aim is to win the affection, the hearts, if you like, of these people.'
'My God,' T
ony said, apparently to himself.
Harriet was frowning. 'They have no hearts, no affection,' she declared. 'They are ruled by fear. I quote your uncle, Mr Hilton. The sentiments are not me own.'
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