The Earthly Paradise

by C. S. Forester

  ‘It will be a long pull back to the ships,’ he said, and took hold of his oar again. His teeth showed white in his swarthy face as he smiled.

  6

  In the Admiral’s cabin, vaguely lit with its two horn lanterns, accusation and denial were hotly exchanged.

  ‘I say we missed our way,’ said Garcia. ‘You know what the forests in these Indian islands are like, Your Excellency. It is easy enough.’

  ‘And you, Don Narciso?’ asked the Admiral. ‘You say--’

  ‘I say they went back to the village,’ said Rich, unhappily. He was beginning to be sorry that the argument had started; if he had worded his report to the Admiral more tactfully it might not have began at all, and now Garcia and Tarpia had been called in and he had fears as to what the end would be.

  ‘You have no right to say that at all!’ burst out Tarpia.

  ‘Gentlemen, moderation, please,’ expostulated the Admiral. ‘What makes you think so, Don Narciso?’

  Rich thought of the way in which they had looked at the women, of the furtive conversation they had held as they started their homeward march, of what he thought was a human cry of fear and agony, and he knew all this was not evidence. He remembered the contempt he had in his own court for people who had no better sort of case than this to present.

  ‘You see, Your Excellency,’ sneered Garcia. ‘He finds it hard to think of something to say.’

  ‘And what right has he to accuse us?’ demanded Tarpia. ‘Is he in authority over us?’

  ‘I represent Their Highnesses’ interests,’ said Rich.

  ‘I have represented Their Highnesses’ interests in a dozen battles,’ said Tarpia. ‘There are twenty soldiers on board this very ship who follow me.’

  There was a threat behind that last statement, as anyone could see who caught the glance at the Admiral which accompanied it. Rich looked at the Admiral, hoping against hope that he would take up this challenge to his authority.

  ‘Gentlemen,’ said the Admiral. ‘We are on a holy mission-a crusade. Must you wrangle like this?’

  ‘The wrangling,’ said Garcia, haughtily, ‘is not the fault of Don Bernardo and me. The blue blood of Spain does not wrangle willingly with the base-born.’

  Rich checked himself as he was about to counter hotly with the statement that he was a caballero de fuero of Catalonia. It would be of no avail. No hidalgo would dream of admitting, even inwardly, any equality between himself and a caballero de fuero--legally a gentleman-and, what was worse (and it was this which sent a little shudder of fear through Rich’s plump body) Garcia might take advantage of the statement to challenge him to a duel. In that event Garcia would kill him for certain, and Rich shrank from the imminent prospect of death, as presented harshly to him by his imagination. He had not mentioned to the Admiral the bloodstains he had seen on Garcia’s hands because he knew that Garcia would give a fiat denial that they had ever existed; now he realized that he had been doubly wise, because if he were given the lie direct the incident could not end until more blood-his own-had been shed.

  ‘Very well, gentlemen,’ said the Admiral, when the struggle of emotion in Rich’s face had died away and there was clearly no reply to be expected of him. ‘I have heard your explanation and of course I accept it. But with regard to the pearls which I understand you received from the Indians?’

  Garcia and Tarpia exchanged glances, and then Garcia looked across at Rich with no friendly expression.

  ‘All gold and all treasure,’ said the Admiral, sharply, ‘must be handed to me-to me, the Viceroy. That is the Royal order, as you are aware, gentlemen.’

  There was no weakness in his attitude now, that was obvious enough. He was prepared to enforce his will in the matter of money, just as he was not prepared to enforce it in the matter of discipline. Sulkily the two gentlemen produced the pearl armlets and handed them over.

  ‘Thank you, gentlemen. I need take up no more of your time.’

  They swaggered out of the cabin with all the dignity the low deck beams over their heads would allow, leaving the Admiral fondling the glistening treasure and Rich staring malignantly after them.

  ‘These hot-blooded gentlemen,’ said the Admiral, ‘are a little unruly. Even unreasonably so, occasionally.’

  ‘Without a doubt,’ agreed Rich, bitterly.

  What Was he to do or say? he wondered bitterly. The moment had clamoured for a sharp example, and had been allowed to pass. In the essential matter of discipline the Admiral had allowed his authority to be challenged successfully. The dissensions and squabbles and final anarchy in the colony of the Espanola were explained by that one incident. He thought of that ludicrous agreement between Their Highnesses and the Admiral, which made the latter Viceroy of all the lands he might discover. The fact that a man was a capable navigator, or even that he had ideas and was tenacious of them, did not imply that he would be an effective governor. The agreement handed over unlimited territory to a man who could not control his subordinates-there was no blinking the fact. Rich wondered to himself how Caesar Borgia, conquering Central Italy, would have treated those two.

  ‘The pearls we have already obtained on this voyage,’ remarked the Admiral, ‘are nearly sufficient to repay the cost of the expedition. There will be much profit.’

  ‘Let us hope so,’ said Rich.

  He felt himself to be friendless and desolate; he had incurred the hatred of Garcia and Tarpia, which meant that his very life was in danger. He did not dare to risk antagonizing the Admiral as well with untimely criticism. No one would trouble much about the fate of a wretched lawyer, not even Their Highnesses across two thousand miles of sea. He was very sorry he had come.

  ‘And I expect,’ went on the Admiral, ‘that when we reach Espanola we shall find a shipload of gold awaiting us there. I made arrangements for its collection. The Royal fifth should be a large sum. So should my eighth and tenth!’

  That absurd agreement gave Their Highnesses a fifth of all treasure. But to the Admiral it gave a tenth of everything shipped home, not merely of treasure, but of merchandise or spices. And besides that he could claim an eighth share of the gross profit, and an additional one-tenth share of the net profit, of each individual expedition that sailed from Spain. And the agreement itself made the Admiral the judge as to what was or was not merchandise, and what was or was not profit, it made him Admiral and Viceroy with the right to nominate all his officers; and, lastly, it empowered him to leave by will all these varied privileges and powers in perpetuity to whomsoever he should think proper. It occurred to Rich that perhaps it was as well for Spain that the Admiral was not the ruthless leader of men he would have liked him to be five minutes back. Such a man could make himself greater than Their Highnesses themselves. If the choice lay between anarchy and independence he would have to choose anarchy for the Admiral’s empire.

  The consideration had made him forget his own misery for the moment. Outside the cabin awaited him the hatred of the men he feared; he felt like a tale-telling schoolboy, safe for an instant with his teacher, but doomed sooner or later to have to face the resentment of his fellows. He yearned to stay a little longer here in the light and safety. Why, oh why had he ever allowed his restless curiosity to carry him off on that infernal expedition in the longboat?

  Antonio Spallanzani came into the cabin and broke the chain of his thoughts.

  ‘Ah, you are in time to lock these away,’ said the Admiral in his native Italian, handing over the armlets, and then in Castilian, ‘Thank you, Don Narciso.’

  There was nothing for it now but to leave. Rich took a deep breath as he set his hand to the door, for he was by nature a timorous man. Then he passed out into the darkness of the after-deck, under the break of the poop. The inky blackness here, even after the dim light of the cabin, left him blind for a second or two. Somebody brushed against him, and he jumped with nervousness, and then breathed with relief as he heard Rodrigo Acevedo’s voice.

  ‘Who is that?’ asked Acevedo.
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br />   ‘It is I,’ said Rich, trying to keep the quaver out of his voice.

  ‘Don Narciso? Our two companions of today have been here breathing fire and murder against you.’

  Acevedo’s voice was pitched low, and Rich whispered when he replied.

  ‘Where-where are they now?’

  ‘Over on that side, talking with Moret and the others.’

  The night was warm, but to Rich the sweat that beaded his face was cold.

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ whispered Rich, pathetically, and was promptly startled by hearing Acevedo suddenly start speaking in a normal tone, loud enough to be heard by the dark mass of figures on the far side of the ship.

  ‘Oh, no, Don Narciso,’ said Acevedo, speaking with a distinctness which was agony at first to Rich. ‘You can hardly do that. I feel for you, and sympathize with you. But you ought to know the rules of shipboard life if anyone on board does.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ whispered Rich.

  ‘Brawling on board is terribly punished. The hand that draws a weapon is nailed by it to the mast, and remains nailed there until the owner tears himself free. If you were to kill him you would be tied to his dead body and thrown overboard.’

  ‘Oh, not so loud, not so loud,’ whispered Rich, wringing his hands, but Acevedo continued quite calmly.

  ‘So all I can advise is that you swallow your resentment, at least for a time--although I quite appreciate how unpleasant it is for you. Diego de Arana of Cordoba is alguazil mayor-master-at-arms-on board here, and you know his reputation. He holds his commission direct from the crown.’

  ‘But why-?’ began Rich, still too stupid with fright to see the trend of what Acevedo was saying.

  ‘He’d stick at nothing,’ continued Acevedo. ‘Gentle or simple, seaman or hidalgo, it’s all one to him. At the first sound of steel he’d be upon you with his chains and his fetters. Twenty stinking seamen would throw you into the hold, and next morning we’d see you nailed up. You’d never hold a sword again, and I for one would be sorry for that.’

  ‘So would I,’ said Rich, taking his cue at last.

  ‘By God!’ said Acevedo, striking one fist into the other. ‘Do you remember disarming that swashbuckling lout that night outside the Santo Spirito in Florence? If I’d been in your place I should have killed him-he deserved it. With his French sword-play and all, behaving like a boor because he thought he was the best fencer in Florence. Holy Mary, the look on his face as his sword fell on the ground!’

  Acevedo laughed, lightly and reminiscently.

  ‘That was ‘ninety-two, wasn’t it? Or was it ‘ninety-three?’ said Rich, desperately trying to heap on the local colour, and feeling a fearful joy in doing so.

  ‘It was my second visit, anyway. But as I was saying, we can have nothing like that on board here, Don Narciso. No point of honour can be satisfied if the successful combatant is liable to execution. All courts of heralds are agreed upon that. Any offence given must be passed over in those circumstances--dishonour is confined to the man who offers the offence.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Rich, remembering the frequent teasing he had undergone at the hands of his bedmates of the ‘tweendecks. ‘Yes. I knew that. It was only because I was so angry this evening that I had forgotten it.’

  Don Rodrigo yawned elaborately.

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I for one am sleepy. There is little enough to do-shall we go to bed? Or are you still too wrought up to sleep?’

  ‘Oh,’ said Rich. ‘I think we might as well.’

  Perhaps Acevedo sensed the intoxication which Rich felt at that moment, and appreciated the danger of his saying a word too many which might spoil the whole effect so elaborately built up. He slipped his hand under Rich’s elbow and guided him firmly to the companion way. As they fumbled their way in the darkness the silence which had overlain the shadowy group against the opposite bulwark was broken by a thin nervous cough.

  Rich stripped to his shirt in the cramped ‘tweendecks in a wild exultation, hardly knowing what he was doing. The reaction from his earlier terror was profound. He began a jocular remark to Acevedo at the farther end of the tier of chests, but the almost invisible figure there made no reply and offered no encouragement to conversation, so that Rich realized that in a ship anything he said might be overheard, if he did not desire it as much as if he did. One of the philosophers had said: ‘I have often regretted having spoken, but I have never regretted holding my tongue.’ Rich remembered the saying, and got himself into bed with no more speech.

  Of course he was not yet asleep when the rest of the party came into the ‘tweendecks and prepared for bed, groping about in the puzzling light of the single evil-smelling tallow dip. Don Cristobal Garcia came to his bed beside him, and Rich would not even feign sleep, only sleepiness, opening his eyes and then closing them again as if the sight of Garcia was not enough to discompose him. And Garcia, crouching under the deck beams as he undressed, was much more careful than usual not to discommode his neighbour.

  That may have been, decided Rich, thinking tumultuously, because of his new reputation as a swordsman. Or it may have been because Garcia now realized that any squabble might end in disaster for both of them. Or just conceivably he might have taken to heart Acevedo’s remark that it was ungentlemanly to offer provocation without the chance of satisfaction. Or it might be because Garcia was in a sober mood. Or it might be just coincidence. In any case, it seemed a lifetime since, some fifteen hours ago, they had first sighted the Serpent’s Mouth. Rich’s agitated mind began to turn over afresh all the numerous occurrences since then, from the moment of sighting the Island of Grace to that of Garcia’s retirement to bed.

  7

  There was a very marked northerly current along this eastern shore of Trinidad. Hove-to during the night, the squadron was carried steadily northwards, until at last the late-rising moon had revealed such looming masses of land ahead that the Admiral had been roused, and the sleeping men on board had been awakened by the bustle and noise of letting go the anchors. Now, at dawn, everyone could see more clearly what lay ahead. There were several small steep-sided islands in a chain across their course, with narrow passages between, over which soared and wheeled innumerable sea birds. The Admiral beside the taffrail was studying the sea on their quarter towards these passages-Rich was still landsman enough to feel a slight shock at the realization that in an anchored ship one does not necessarily look ahead to examine the course one intends to pursue.

  ‘More dangerous passages, Don Narciso,’ announced the Admiral. ‘There are current and eddies there as bad as the Serpent’s Mouth yesterday. These channels are narrower, and more dangerous. The Mouths of the Dragon, do you think?’

  They both smiled as they remembered their conversation of yesterday.

  ‘A very appropriate name, Your Excellency,’ said Rich.

  ‘I am not justified in risking the passage,’ announced the Admiral. ‘I intend heading eastward along this chain of islands until we find an easier one.’

  ‘It is not for me to discuss questions of navigation with Your Excellency,’ said Rich in perfect sincerity; the Admiral was the best practical seaman the world could show.

  Orders were bellowed back and forth from the ship to the caravels; men set to work at the capstan while others loosened the sails

  ‘It is better if we head eastward in any case,’ went on the Admiral, turning back to Rich from the business of getting the squadron under way. ‘It cannot be far to the east of here that the Earthly Paradise is to be found. I am convinced of it--the air blows fresher and purer with every league.’

  ‘I had not noticed it, Your Excellency,’ said Rich, boldly.

  ‘You are insensitive, and you have not had my experience of this climate. And besides, you were present when Alamo discovered bitumen in the island, weren’t you? He told me that there was obviously some undiscovered central source of bitumen in Trinidad. The analogy with the Dead Sea is very close. The Euphrates--only across the desert f
rom the Dead Sea-was one of the four rivers of Eden, and not even the most learned fathers of the Church have been able to identify the other three. They have remained unknown for as long as all our knowledge was derived from the westward. Now we are approaching from the east and shall solve the mystery.’

  ‘But between us and the Euphrates must lie all India, and the Spice Islands, and the empire of the Great Khan, Your Excellency,’ protested Rich, bewildered.

  ‘Undoubtedly they must lie to the northward,’ admitted the Admiral. ‘It would be hard to reconcile the theory with that of a perfectly spherical earth. But remember what I suggested to you before, and assume that in this quarter of the world the sphere is prolonged into a pear-shaped extension. That would then allow room enough to the northward for Asia, and at the same time account for the balminess of this air, and for the fierce ocean currents here-probably, when our knowledge is more advanced, for the existence of sources of bitumen on either side of Eden, and for the steep-sided shape of those islands there.’

  ‘I see, Your Excellency,’ said Rich.

  The theory was a difficult one, but no more difficult than that of an earth which was not flat, nor than the postulate of the existence of antipodes, and the Admiral and the Portuguese had between them established these firmly enough. Rich began to feel a new excitement at the thought of fresh discoveries and began restlessly to pace the deck, exchanging a courteous formal bow with Garcia as he did so. After Garcia’s deeds of yesterday Rich wondered what men of that stamp would be guilty of in the Earthly Paradise, and at the same moment he found himself wondering heretically whether perhaps the Earthly Paradise had not already been discovered, and whether those laughing hospitable folk who entertained them were not dwellers in it, pagans though they were. The thought struck him with sadness, and he turned again to look at the land.