'What?' the surgeon would demand. 'A bullet through the chest? The odds on your survival at all were at least a hundred to one. Had you not possessed the constitution of an ox you would have died in a week.'
'And what of my constitution now, do you think?' Matt would ask.
'These things take time, Matt. Time. How long has it been? Scarce two years? But now it is all upwards, boy. You have but to take care, and you can count the months, rather than the years.'
To mend his shattered muscles, his cracked bones. Not to assuage his spirit, which caused them far more concern. As if time mattered, now. Once he had supposed that to wait four months, in Statia, for the arrival of Gislane in Nevis, was quite impossible. And so he had found a sweeter solace than he had had any right to expect. Now the solace was there, all the time, caring for him, keeping him company, mothering his children, with the utmost patience and good humour, while he could not but wonder what went on behind those steady blue eyes, as he had wondered from the very beginning, whether she understood that she might have made a dreadful mistake in leaving the solid comfort and support of Dirk Huys to follow a boy who seemed destined to flounder through a morass for all of his life, and who for some time now had scarce been able to pay her a man's attention.
The matter came to a head with the formal pronouncement of the ending of her marriage to Dirk, in the summer of 1788. The morning after the letter arrived they clung to each other with more than usual vehemence. 'You are still beautiful, Sue,' Matt said. ‘You must be the most beautiful thirty-year-old in all the world.'
She kissed him on the chin. 'Save that I am not yet thirty, sweetheart. You do me an injustice.'
'And will a few months change you?' Christ, how he loved to touch that velvet flesh, caress those swelling breasts, feel the power in those long legs.
'And do you then, love only my body?' she asked, biting his chin. 'And are therefore preparing to tire of me and discard me?'
'I could not love you more, sweetheart, were our positions reversed, and you lying here unable to do more than twitch. I love the very thought of you. I am ready to weep when I consider your unending support of me. I shudder to consider the boredom you must experience, with no company other than Robert. As for desertion, I was considering requesting you to abandon so lost a cause in your own favour.'
'I am your wife,' she said. 'In intent, if not yet in law.' And then flushed.
'It is because I love you so much that I hesitate to face you to that irrevocable step,' he said. 'I am a wretched fellow, dependent upon my cousin's charity, bound to cause trouble wherever I go ...'
'You are a Hilton.'
'Yet you know as well as I our marriage should wait, until I have finished with this business.'
'Until you can forget Gislane, you mean,' she said quietly. 'Sue ...'
'Sweetheart, let us at the least always be honest with each other. You love me. I know that, in your gaze, in your touch. But you cannot be sure you would not love her more, should she reappear in your life.'
'You can say that, so calmly?'
'I can wait, too, until we neither of us have any more doubts. As for Robert, he is as glad to have us here as we are to be here, I am sure. He is a lonely man, and you must have seen enough of him these past years to know that he is only half the tyrant he pretends. Were you but to make the slightest effort, you and he could be the best of friends. You'll not have forgotten this is a matter which could be of some importance to Dick and Tony.'
‘It is a matter which has long been settled, and there's an end to it.' Matt got out of bed and began to dress, how slowly, how awkwardly, afraid to exert the slightest effort that might revive the breath-taking agony in his chest. 'In any event, for me to play the planter now would be hypocrisy.'
'Yet can you be his friend,' she insisted, drawing up her knees and resting her chin. Tour problem is one of boredom. You sit here, and brood, and imagine. So you'd not return to planting. I would not have you perjure your every ideal. It is not the only occupation a gentleman may follow.'
'In Jamaica?'
'Well ... you could write.'
'You jest.'
'I see no reason why not. If Billy Beckford's son could compose a novel, surely Ned Hilton's son could so as well. Have you read Vathek?’
'Now really ,sweetheart, when have I had the time to read?'
'I am just pointing out that your problem is too much time. And you might enjoy it. It is an utter fable, and quite indecent. But I actually did not think of novel writing. You claim to be a leader in the field of abolition, and Tom says it is the coming thing in England, and you know with what undisciplined zeal the English literati throw themselves upon any new ideas, any new person they might suitably devour. At the least devouring you will be difficult at a distance of four thousand miles. But you can scarce do less than help your cause.'
She was right, as always. He knew that, and followed her suggestion. He wrote long letters to Mr. Wilberforce and Tom Clarkson, to Mr. Fox and Lady Montagu, and was encouraged by their answers. He outlined the situation in the West Indies, and pointed to the increasing moral degeneracy of the plantocracy, as sons born to wealth and unlimited power too often gave in to that power. As he grew stronger, he took to riding, into town, to assist Coke and Manton with their services, at which growing numbers of Negroes attended every week, as the word got around that there would be no more midnight visitations to the Wesleyan Chapel. For indeed the Jamaica plantocracy, following the strange events of the Corbeau wedding, seemed determined to kill the Methodists by ignoring them, rather than by directly opposing them. Or more likely, Matt thought, now that Robert had been forced, however unwillingly, into taking the side of his sister and her lover, they just lacked a capable leader. He could not help but wonder what might be achieved could Robert, by some means, be forced into lending them his active rather than his passive support. But Robert forbade the discussion of slavery or religion inside Hilltop, and would stamp from the room should anyone defy him.
And for all his endless activity, his surge of growing strength, his delight in his sons as they left babyhood behind, and his even greater delight in the unchanging splendour of Suzanne's love, he continued to fret. The pending case against Hodge was more even than a crusade of vengeance for the supposed fate of Gislane Nicholson; it was all that had kept him alive after his wound. But now the months became years, and indeed it was already several years since the date of Manton's deposition and Fanny Nisbet's supporting testimony. She would have to be called Fanny Nelson, now. It had been decided that in view of his health and his unpopularity amongst the whites, it would be unwise for him to visit Nevis for the wedding; but apparently the occasion had been splendid enough as the planters, on learning that Prince William would himself give the bride away, had decided to let bygones be bygones, at least as regards Nelson. Soon enough the entire business would fall under the statute of limitations, and the campaign would have to begin again.
Supposing it ever could. His hopes rose and fell, as they had bounded when Coke had told him of Shirley's imminent departure, and fallen as the word imminent, when applied to a governor, had seemed to be a matter of two years, and rose again when Shirley did indeed retire, and fell again as Hugh Elliott's arrival was delayed, and rose again when the new lieutenant governor was finally installed. Then he would have gone to Nevis on the instant, but Suzanne and Tom persuaded him at least to write first, to discover if the new governor was of a more definite stamp than Shirley. This he did, as usual obeying her suggestion, and once again was delighted to receive an early reply. But the envelope contained nothing more than an acknowledgement of his letter, and a promise that the matter would be investigated. Then there was silence, as the months stretched into another year, until Matt almost determined to have done with it, and being obviously unable to obtain the slightest justice in the West Indies, to return to England, where the Anti-Slavery Movement was gaining adherents every day.
To his surprise, this was opposed
by Sue. 'I am selfish, I know,' she said. 'But I belong here, on Jamaica, in the heat and the peace of Hilltop. Everything Georgy ever told me about London is a criticism.'
'Yet will Tony at the least soon be going,' he pointed out.
'What rubbish.'
'All the Hiltons attend Eton,' Matt said. 'Robert has already spoken to me on the matter. It would seem that he is well on the way to becoming reconciled, at least with his bastard nephews. You are in favour of that, judging by your ideas for myself.'
'It cannot possibly take place for another five years, at the earliest,' she insisted. 'Why, Robert? Whatever is the matter?'
Her brother stamped into the room, as usual. In the past three years he had strangely aged, Matt thought, his hair becoming increasingly grey at the temples, and his limp more pronounced. No doubt all his erring family had a share in that responsibility, but Georgy had ever been his favourite.
'There are letters,' he shouted. 'Letters. One from Rio Blanco. From Georgy, if you please. Oh, Corbeau penned it, but she appended her signature. Quite the grand lady she is become.'
'And what does she say?' Sue inquired.
'Why, very little. Francis is doing well, and Oriole is as pretty as a picture. Mother talk. She is going to visit Paris as soon as the present troubles are over, to see about the boy's education. It would be a good idea for you to take Tony over as well, Sue. Then the two boys can get to know each other; there is hardly more than a year between them. And you can tell me something more of Georgy.'
'When the present troubles are over,' Sue reiterated. 'The nation is bankrupt. How do you cure that especial trouble?'
'Aye,' Robert said, sitting down with a sigh. ‘I cannot say Corbeau's letter - he has written as well - is any more cheerful. He says that by all accounts since the fall of the Bastille the nation is quite undisciplined. And worse, he says that the irresponsible pronunciamentos of this National Assembly they have got themselves is causing unrest amongst the mulattoes in St. Domingue. Damned French. They'd better not export any of their wild ideas to Jamaica.'
'And are there no other letters?' Sue inquired.
'Eh? Oh, from Barton, of course. Prices are falling. There is no news like bad news, what? Oh, and there is one for you, Matt, from that madman Elliott.'
'Antigua?' Matt snatched at the envelope, broke the seal, his heart pounding.
'Well?' Sue cried. 'What does he say?'
'Listen,' Matt shouted. 'Listen. He begs my indulgence for the length of time it has taken him to reply to my letter. But then he writes, "as soon as I was permitted time from my official functions, you may be sure I had a search made of the archives here, and indeed found not only your deposition, but the man Manton's statement and Mrs. Nisbet's confirmation of much of his evidence. However, I am sure you will understand, Mr. Hilton, that this being a matter of such gravity, and likely to cause such a disturbance in West Indian opinion, as well as to create a precedent of incalculable effect were the case ever to come to court, that I deemed it my duty to refer the testimonies and the whole matter to their Lords of Trade and Plantations, who are all of our masters. My Lords, again with some reason, considered it necessary to refer the whole business to the Chancellor, and these matters, you will appreciate, Mr. Hilton, take time." '
'Time,' Sue said. 'A century, no doubt.'
'Bah,' Robert said. 'The fellow acted sensibly, for once. They'll never indict Hodge.'
'Well, then, listen,' Matt said. ' "You will no doubt be pleased to learn that I have now heard from their Lordships, to the effect that they have received learned opinion that Mr. Hodge has far exceeded his authority over his slaves in his unwarranted and unchristian mistreatment of them, and that, should I proceed against him at law, I will receive their full support."'
'By God,' Robert said.
'Oh, Matt,' Sue cried, throwing both arms around his neck. 'You've won.'
'Not yet. The case must still be heard, and the jury will be planters,' Matt said, continuing to scan the letter. 'Indeed, he begs my continued patience, as there is much to be done and to be arranged. But the indictment has gone ahead, and indeed he says, "By the time you read this letter, James Hodge, and his wife, if I can manage it, will be in gaol awaiting trial for murder."'
'By God,' Robert said again.
'And you?' Sue asked.
'I am to hold myself, and Manton, in readiness to take ship for Nevis to give evidence. Mistress Nelson, alas, is now living in England, and the governor would prefer not to recall her on so long and dangerous a voyage to testify, but he feels sure that it will not be necessary, in view of the position of her uncle, and her own known character. Her deposition should be sufficient.' He put down the letter. 'At last.'
'At last,' Sue said.
'By God,' Robert said. 'You'll be stoned in the street, when this gets about.'
'Well, then,' Sue said. 'They'd best throw straight, because I will be at his side. You can play the father for a season, Robert dear.'
Robert elected to accompany them, with the boys, at least as far as Kingston.' 'Twill be the last time I shall see you,' he declared, 'for at least a year. And perhaps longer. You have no idea how drawn out can be a trial. And a trial of this nature, without precedent ... why, judging by the list of names Elliott supplies in his last letter, he is calling almost every person in Nevis, other than the slaves themselves, who can possibly have ever visited Hodges.'
'No doubt it is the prosecutor's business to make the case as certain as possible,' Sue suggested.
'Oh, it is. Although I wonder if he will not be concealing the wood with an overabundance of trees. There is no man here, I'd wager ..:' he waved the letter, 'who can testify to having seen the crimes of which Hodge stands accused. It is all hearsay evidence. Without Manton the case would very likely fall to the ground. And many a heart would beat the more pleasantly should it do so.'
'Yours also, cousin?' Matt demanded.
'Aye, by God,' Robert growled. 'We'll not keep planting what it is by prosecuting every planter who strikes a slave.'
'Strikes a slave,' Matt shouted. 'Why, by heaven ..
'Oh, cease your perpetual quarrelling,' Sue cried, and hugged the two boys closer, one on each side. 'The matter will be resolved close enough.'
The carriage rumbled down the road into Kingston itself, taking the way by the Wesleyan Chapel, where they were to be joined by Coke and Manton. And indeed the chapel was already in sight, and surrounded by a considerable number of people, mostly black. Paul, the coachman, dragged on the reins, as the crowd spread across the road.
'What's this?' Robert shouted. 'What's this, by God?' He spied Coke, having his hand wrung time and again. 'What's this, doctor? A riot?'
'On the contrary, Mr. Hilton; these good people have come to wish us God speed. It is their battle we fight no less than any slave's, you know. Good morning to you, Sue. Matt. I have never seen you looking better.'
'I have never felt better,' Matt said. 'The summons to Nevis was just what my health needed, I suspect. Manton, why so pale?'
The erstwhile overseer climbed into the carriage behind Coke. ' 'Tis the world we are about to shake, Mr. Hilton. Good morning Mr. Hilton. Mistress Huys.'
'By God,' Robert growled, as the carriage once again slowly moved forward, and the Negroes gave a cheer. 'You mean they know where you are going, what you are about?'
'Why, sir,' Coke declared, 'the news is all over Kingston. Has been for some time, indeed. What, Hodge arrested? There can have been no other topic of conversation this last month.'
'Only Hodge,' Matt muttered. 'This Elliott perhaps lacks the backbone we had hoped. Did you not estimate she is by far the worst of the pair, Manton?'
'In my time, she was, Mr. Hilton.'
'Still, it is hard to see any white jury condemning a white woman for ill-treating a black,' Sue pointed out. 'Perhaps the governor acted wisely, after all. Whatever is that racket?'
'By God,' Robert said, and pushed his head out of the window. 'Pau
l?'
'A lot of people, Mr. Robert,' Paul said.
'Shouting, and waving sticks,' Coke remarked, also looking out of the window. 'There is your riot, Mr. Hilton.'
'By God,' Robert said. 'Drive through them, Paul. Drive through them. They'll know who it is, by God.'
'Them's white people, Mr. Robert,' the coachman protested.
'Scum,' Robert bellowed. 'The sweepings of Kingston, I'll be bound. Charge them, Paul. Charge them. Gad that I had my pistols.'
'No violence, sir, I beg of you,' Coke protested.
'Mama?' Tony asked. 'What can all those people want?'
Sue's face was pale. 'I imagine they disapprove of your father's point of view,' she said.
The noise grew louder. Now they all looked out of the windows at the mass, gathered in the main square before the harbour. Almost all the faces were white, and there were women as well as men in the mob. And while Robert was right in supposing that the main part were poorly dressed, there were a few on horseback, and wearing decent clothing. And all were brandishing at the least fists, with several sticks to be seen waving in the air. What they were saying was mainly a confused babble, but now someone seemed to have obtained a speaking horn.
'The Hilton coach,' he bellowed. 'The Hilton coach.
There go the turncoats. Spill them out, lads. Spill them out.'
'My God,' Manton said. 'They mean violence.' 'Spill me out?' Robert shouted. 'Spill me out, by God?' Sue opened the speaking hatch. 'Turn off, Paul,' she shouted. 'There must be a side street. Turn off.' 'Run from a mob?' Robert bawled. 'I have my children,' she insisted.
Matt took Manton's place by the window; the overseer was trembling. The coach began to bear to the right, where the crowd was thinnest, and where there was a side street leading parallel with the harbour. But at the sight of Matt's face a stone struck the coach beside him. Hastily he withdrew, but now the people were massed in front of the vehicle, having run across the square to do so, and Paul was dragging on the reins and on the brake, causing the horses to rear and squeal.
Mistress of Darkness Page 45
