CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.
THE CLOSED DOOR.
The stranger walked slowly across to his own quarters in a frame of mindvery unwonted with him. Something had moved him--moved him powerfully.A new vista opened before him, and what a promise of the good things oflife did he behold. The past, too, came before him, but it he put asidewith sneering and bitterness.
Two female slaves greeted him with subservient smiles. They were not ofthis race, but had been brought from much farther inland. They weremuch lighter in colour, physically fine symmetrical specimens, and notwithout good looks. Their smiles he returned with a frown that madethem cower.
"No more of these," he muttered in English, staring at them. "White--red and white--white and gold--golden hair--volumes of it--every kind.Aha! No more of this soot."
They cowered still more before his stare, wondering which of theirrecent or further back delinquencies had come to his knowledge or whattheir fate would be. But now he ordered them to begone, and, whiletrying not to show their relief, they lost no time in obeying.
He got out a bottle of rum and poured out a strong, stiff measure. Thishe tossed off like water. The beginning of a debauch? Oh no. This manknew better than that. He was never seen intoxicated--he valued hisinfluence too much--and were he once seen in a state of incapacity heknew full well that his influence would be gone; further, that it wouldnot be long before his life followed. There were times, however, whenhe had taken enough liquor to have sent two ordinary hard-headed men tothe ground, and at such times the black savages among whom he dwelt werecareful to give this white savage a very wide berth indeed. That wasall.
His private quarters were in no way ringed off from the rest of thetown, in which was reason. No combination could thus be formed againsthim, or any hostile plan unknown to himself be carried out, as might bethe case were he more shut away. But his huts were better and morespacious than the rest, that mostly occupied by himself attaining almostto the dignity of a bungalow--and, indeed, in such dread was this placeheld that his possessions were as sacred as though guarded by ironsafes. For the acquisitive savage had found it unhealthy to pilfer fromthis his white brother. At first he had tried it. One attempt had beenmet by a wholly unlooked-for shot, killing the offender. On anotheroccasion a large and heavy knife had fallen unexpectedly from nowhere,penetrating the brain of the would-be thief, with similar result. Thiswas the more singular in that at the time of both attempts he whom theywould have plundered was about fifty miles away, so that it needed notmany recurrences of further disaster--in each case mysterious, andtaking a varying form--to render this man's goods absolutely safe.
The secret of the extraordinary ascendency of this white savage over theblack, apart from the fact that he never interfered in the slightestdegree with their manners and customs, especially when he had led thempersonally in some sanguinary and victorious raid, may have lain in thefact that he tolerated no opposition. If he considered his subordinatedevils had a real grievance he would listen to it and redress it, and ofthis we have seen at least one gruesome instance. Otherwise he simplyrose up and killed the offender--killed him with his own hand.
Now he went outside his house, called a name, and issued an order. Inthe result, about three quarters of an hour saw him in possession ofWagram's pocket-book. This he proceeded to investigate with quiteunwonted hurry. A few visiting cards and the notes Wagram had mentionedwere all it contained. The latter he put aside. Cash was always--cash.
For Wagram himself another long, trying, well-nigh sleepless night wasin store--a night of wearing suspense, and the certainty of a mostdreadful disappointment. For he could not disguise from himself theconsciousness that something had gone suddenly wrong--that the train ofthe negotiation had, at a certain point, left the rails--for whatotherwise could be the meaning of the sudden change of tone and manneron the part of the stranger directly the agreement was completed? Hadhe merely been fooling him with promises of escape until he had put hisname to a document binding him to pay down a very large sum? At firstblush it looked like this, but further reflection served to show that,failing his own co-operation, the document was useless for the purposeof obtaining one single shilling--in a word, was utterly unnegotiable.Could it be that the man was touched in the brain, and subject to suddenand dangerous impulses--hence his unlooked-for change of manner--or washe a renegade, who had, perhaps, undergone the penalty of former crimeand hated those of his own blood and colour in consequence? Anyway thewhole affair was a mystery, which the morning might solve; and that itwould solve it in a way that was speedily favourable to himself hedevoutly hoped and prayed.
He fell into an uneasy sleep; and it seemed he had hardly done so whenhe was aroused by a touch. He opened his eyes, to meet those of asavage who was standing over him, and a shudder of loathing ran throughhim; and this not entirely due to the strong musky odour wherewith thenew-comer seemed to be poisoning the air--the fact being that, since thescene he had yesterday witnessed, these were no longer human beings inhis eyes but so many horrible ghouls. This one, however, beckoned himto get up and go with him.
Wagram obeyed. He had no immediate fears for his personal safety, inview of the presence of a fellow white man in that nest of demons; andas he followed his repulsive guide he glanced around upon the life ofthe place--the morose, evil-looking inhabitants, fiend-like with theirlong spikes of plaited wool sticking up from their heads, and theirround, black progeny tumbling about like so many sooty imps. There wasno trace of the light-hearted, careless good humour of the negro amongthese. He had never seen one of them laugh, for instance; and theirgrin had something malevolent about it--something that was more thanhalf a snarl. Could it be that their awful unnatural appetite affectedthem mentally too, and that by feeding on the bodies of theirfellow-demons the spirit of the latter entered into theirs? But hisspeculation on this head was cut short. He and his guide had arrived ata much larger hut than the others, and there, seated on a native stoolin front of it, was the strange white man.
"Well, I've got back that pocket-book of yours," began the latterunceremoniously. "Here it is; only I'm sorry to say the notes are nolonger in it. Rum thing that these devils should have any idea of thevalue of money, especially paper money."
He broke off, and emitted a shrill whistle. A slave girl appeared. Amonosyllabic order, and she reappeared, bearing a bottle and twoglasses.
"Have a tot," he said. "You don't look over-bobbish, and it'll pick youup. None of your poisonous trade rum this, but real old Jamaica."
"Thanks; it may. I've had another sleepless night, and can do with alittle picking up."
In fact, he felt the better for it. And what he was about to witnessrequired some stimulating, for now the other uttered a loud, peremptorycall.
It was answered with amazing and startling celerity. A number ofspiky-haired blacks came crowding up in front of the place. Wagram,watching his strange host, saw the latter draw himself up to his fullstature as, with a scowl that was perfectly demoniacal, he haranguedthem for some minutes, working himself up to a perfect paroxysm of fury.His eyes glared, and his deep tones took on the thunderous roar of anangry mastiff. Immediately a man was thrust to the forefront of thegroup. The white man walked down off his verandah and stood confrontingthis fellow, whose brutal face blenched and lowered before the scathing,stare. Then he seized a great spear from one of the lookers-on, and,half hurling, half stabbing, he drove the blade clean through the bodyof the ugly, cowering savage, who sank to the earth, pouring forth hislife-blood in torrents.
Wagram felt himself growing pale. The slayer, not content with hisswift and sudden vengeance, had withdrawn the formidable weapon, and,his eyes rolling and bloodshot, was brandishing it over the staringblack crowd, literally foaming at the mouth as he roared forth hisdeep-toned imprecations. The assembly seemed turned to stone as thosefierce eyes swept over it, lighting first on one and then on the other,while the great spear twirled and quivered in that si
newy grip. Eachthought that he might be the next victim; and, indeed, it seemed so, forthat towering form looked as though endowed with the strength andmalevolence of a fiend. Then with a last fierce and frenzied shout hebade them begone, and they, for their part, did not wait to be toldtwice.
"What was it all about?" said Wagram, hardly able to conceal the disgustand horror which he felt.
The other turned on him his restless, bloodshot eyes. "Your lostpocket-book. It ought to have been brought to me, and wasn't. See?"
"Good God! And you killed a man for that!" The tones of disgust andreproach seemed to sting the other.
"Killed a man for that!" he repeated with a beast-like growl.--"Rather!And I've killed a dozen men for far less--if you call these cannibalswine men. And I'll do it again. No; you know, all these sickening oldcanting ideas you were raised in don't count with me--not a straw. I'mGod here, you understand--and I mean to be."
"Steady. Don't be blasphemous," said Wagram. "Oh, it's you who aregoing to give me orders, is it!" said the other, not loudly, but in atone of deadly, quiet resentment. "Well, we shall see; and, by way ofbeginning, I may as well tell you I've changed my mind since yesterday.In a word, I'd like the pleasure of your company here a little longer."
"But--our agreement?"
"Our agreement? Oh, here it is. That for it!" tearing in severalfragments the paper he had just produced. "I don't get the advantage ofthe improving society of such a good and holy man as you every day, andnow I've got it I mean to profit by it--for a time. See?"
Wagram was simply nonplussed. What did it all mean? Was this a madman?It seemed like it. The document under which he stood to obtain areally splendid sum he had torn up in a fit of gusty rage. But thefearful look on the man's face as he stood glaring down on him wassomething to reckon with--and the jeering tones. He began to conceivefor him an even greater repulsion than for the black, cannibal savagesthemselves.
"We can easily rewrite it," he said in a conciliatory tone. "Thinkagain. It will be to both our interests; and if there is any service Ican render you I will willingly do so."
"Service be damned!" said the other roughly. "I rather think the boot'son the other foot, since it entirely depends upon me, Wagram GerardWagram, whether you ever see home again, or furnish beefsteaks for thenoble image of God you see around here. Upon me, do you hear? Upon meonly."
"Well, of course, it does," answered Wagram, realising that the man wasgoing through a sort of paroxysm of blind, well-nigh delirious rage."But I should think you would hardly hand over a fellow-countryman tothe mercy of a lot of cannibal savages. I have a better opinion of youthan that."
"Have you? Then keep your damned opinion for where it's wanted. Now,come with me."
Thinking it best to humour him Wagram did not hesitate. The other ledthe way through the outskirts of the town. One thing struck Wagramduring their progress. The inhabitants hardly noticed them. All seemedto be hurrying towards one point. Soon the same acrid, horrible odourfell upon his nostrils as that which had sickened him on arriving at thehuman shambles. He stopped.
"I won't go any further, thanks," he said. "I don't want to see thatplace again."
"But you must," replied the other in a tone that was perfectly fiendishin its menace. "You've no choice. I'm God here, remember."
What could he do? He was unarmed; therefore, to that extent, ateverybody's mercy. He had others to think of beside himself--one otherespecially. So he steeled himself.
The dreadful place of slaughter was thronged, it seemed, with the wholepopulation of the town. Through these a word from his guide cleared aprompt way. Several wooden blocks were let into the ground, and uponone of these a victim was being bound down in such wise that the body,turned face upwards, formed an arc, the head being fixed so as to drawthe upturned throat to the fullest tension. And the horrified,blood-chilled spectator observed that the victim was a large stalwartblack very much akin in aspect to the one he had seen struck down by themysterious blow in that eerie temple of devil-worship within the heartof the forest.
"I've let them have a little compensation for killing one of themselvesjust now," broke in his companion's voice with hideous callousness. "Itwas a biggish man among them--as far as I allow any of them to be big.So I've stood them a feed. These belong to another breed, and they likethem, and I can get plenty more. See?"
"But, you'll never allow this?" cried Wagram. "Stop it, do you hear?Stop it, man--devil--or whatever you are. Stop it, or I will."
Without waiting for any reply he sprang forward. A tall black fiendarmed with a great curved knife had stepped to the side of the victim,whose agonised, livid, terror-stricken face was sufficient to hauntWagram to his dying day. It was done in a moment. Quick as thoughtWagram had snatched the murderous implement from the grasp of thesavage, at the same time dealing him a straight-out blow behind the earwhich sent him staggering, and had cut through the bonds which held thewretched victim, who rolled heavily to the ground. A howl, as of a packof famished wolves balked of its prey, arose from the crowd. A rush wasmade. But somehow the sight of this man--who had never shed human bloodin his life--standing there at bay, a new and entirely whole-heartedBerserk rage blazing from his eyes as he rolled them around, holding theformidable weapon ready, seemed to tell, and they hesitated, stillmouthing and yelling like hell let loose. Then great, heavy-haftedspears were raised, ready for casting. But a word from the other whiteman checked the decisive throw, though still unwillingly. They growledand muttered like dogs, looking from one to the other.
"Give me your promise that he shall be spared," cried Wagram."Otherwise not a man comes near him while I am alive."
"You fool. Are you prepared to stand there for the rest of the day?"was the answer. "After you are dead, will it be any the better foranybody else?"
"I shall die while doing my duty at any rate. As for you--why, the mostloathsome savage here is not so loathsome as you."
"Ha--ha! That's all gas. Well, it doesn't suit me that your life shallbe taken, Wagram--at least not until I choose. So I'll give you mypromise. Like yourself, I'm not a liar, whatever I may be."
He harangued the assembled fiends, and in the result the wretched man,still livid with the fears of death, was allowed to slip away, while thecrowd sullenly dispersed--Wagram, of course, being totally unaware thathe was promising them another victim, whom they might despatch and feastupon at their leisure, when there should be nobody present to interrupt.Thus his promise was kept--in the letter.
"I thought I'd just let you see where I come in," he said as they walkedaway together. "Man, you think you have done something blasted heroic,don't you?--but let me tell you that a word from me would have seen youstrapped down to one of those blocks too. You don't suppose you couldhave kept them off with that knife for many minutes, do you?"
Wagram did not answer. His disgust and repulsion for the other hadreached such a pitch that he did not deem it advisable to speak, forfear of betraying it.
"You'd better hug your own quarters for a day or two after this," wenton the latter. "None too safe to be prowling around. You understand?"
"Yes; I understand."
Hope, raised once more, had fallen to the ground. For some reason orother this white savage had seen fit to detain him prisoner--probablywith the object of extracting more in the way of ransom. Indeed, now itdawned upon him that in forcing him to behold all the more horrible sideof the life of these barbarians the other was working to bring his mindup to such a pitch that he would be glad to purchase emancipation at anyprice, however great.
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