The Dark Secret of Josephine

by Dennis Wheatley

  From soon after dawn they had been subject to acute anxiety and the strain of the past few hours had been almost beyond endurance. Nature took charge and within a few minutes everyone of them was deep in the sleep of complete exhaustion; yet their last waking thoughts had been as harrowing as the worst of nightmares. Lucette’s loyalty to her French master, and Bloggs’s rage at João’s treatment of her, had gained them a respite from horrors even to think of which made them feel physically sick—but only a respite. They knew now that, short of a miracle, within the next few days they must suffer utter degradation.

  8

  A Midnight Marriage

  When they woke it was near midday. Their fatigue had been so great that they had slept the clock round. As each of them slowly roused to consciousness they could hardly believe that they had not awakened from some appalling dream, but realisation that they were lying on the deck of the big after cabin brought home to them the awful truth. Georgina was stricken anew by the knowledge that her beloved Charles was dead, and burst into heart-rending sobs. It was the sound of her weeping that fully roused the others, and sitting up they gazed woefully about them.

  As soon as Roger moved, his head began to pain him again, but now the wound ached only dully; and, apart from the fact that his mouth was as parched as a cinder pit, he felt moderately well. On getting up he found that he could walk quite steadily, and going to the table he took a swig of wine from one of the half-empty bottles that was standing on it. As he did so he noticed that the debris of the previous night’s meal had been removed and that other items now littered it. Evidently Lucette and her officers had breakfasted there, but any noise they had made while doing so had been insufficient to arouse the prisoners from their sleep of exhaustion.

  Jenny had left her mattress and was once more attempting to console Georgina. Amanda and Clarissa were both sitting up and staring before them, their faces pictures of misery. After one quick glance, Roger looked away from them. He ached to say something that would cheer them up but could not think of any possible opening which might do so. Never before had he wished himself dead, but now he felt that Charles had been luckier than himself. With an effort he said:

  ‘Come, a wash would freshen us all up; and there’s enough food here for us to make a scratch meal afterwards.’

  Silently they accepted his suggestion. Goergina found evidence in her cabin that Lucette must have slept there; so with Jenny’s help she moved her toilet things and some of her clothes into one of the spare cabins. By the time they returned to the saloon the others were all seated round the table. Their cabins had showed no traces of intruders; Roger had had a shave and Amanda looked considerably less haggard with her face made up. Clarissa’s resilient youth had already obliterated all signs of her previous night’s distress, and Jenny’s robust health made her look better than she was feeling. Georgina’s beautiful eyes were bleary and she had not attempted to remove from her face the ravages that grief had made upon it; but at least she had ceased weeping and again had full control of herself. Nevertheless, as they helped themselves to the food, and ate a little of it mechanically, depression weighted upon them so heavily that none of them felt capable of making conversation.

  Georgina gave a weary tight-lipped travesty of a smile, then observed cynically to Amanda, ‘Is it not a little late, my’dear, to suppose that Roger has any illusions left about the nature of women. Nothing she can say is likely to make him think better or worse of the sex. Besides, as rape is the only subject upon which any of us have brought ourselves to utter this morning, surely it is better that we should discuss it rather than continue to sit here in dreary silence.’ Then, turning to Clarissa, she added: ‘Now, child, let us hear the reason for this belief of yours.’

  ‘ ’Tis based upon what a friend of mine once told me at the young ladies’ Academy which I attended, Clarissa replied. ‘She was of French descent and her grandmother had the misfortune to be caught by the Prussians during the Seven Years’ War. It so chanced that my friend was playing one day near a summer-house in which her mother and grandmother were talking of that campaign. She distinctly remembers having heard her mother say, “I cannot think, Mamma, how you, survived, that brutal assault. The first attentions of a husband are bad enough, but to be raped by a total stranger would drive most women into a madhouse.” At that time my friend did not understand what was meant by the word rape, but when she learned it she recalled this conversation and her grandmother’s reply.’

  Clarissa’s cheeks suddenly coloured up, and casting down her eyes she hesitated before going on, until Georgina asked: ‘Well, what did the grandmother say?’

  In a small voice, still looking down, Clarissa answered: ‘She said: “My dear, you should realise that there is nothing unnatural about rape, and that until historical times it was normally every female’s first experience of physical love. Therefore, providing she can save her face by appearing to have had no alternative but to submit, any sensible woman will shut her eyes, lie back and endeavour to imagine herself the bride of a cave-man lover”.’

  The story so amused Georgina that she was momentarily taken out of herself and cried with a laugh: ‘Damme, the old woman was right!’

  Roger laughed too, while casting a speculative glance at Clarissa. He wondered if nervous preoccupation with the subject had caused her to blurt out the story, or if she had told it with the deliberate intent of lessening the other women’s dread of the role that capture would force upon them in a few days’ time. At that moment she lifted her eyes and they met his. There was no trace of hysteria in them; so he decided that his latter assumption had been correct, and in silent admiration he marvelled that so young a woman should show so much courage.

  Now that Clarissa had broken the ice, they talked for a while of the previous night, freely confessing the fears and emotions they had experienced, but by an unspoken agreement all speculations about their grim future remained barred.

  They had been sitting round the table for the best part of an hour when the hunch-backed Indian came in. Walking across to Jenny, he tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to the door, obviously indicating that she was wanted outside. At first she violently shook her head, from fear of what might happen to her if she left the others; but the hunch-back then enunciated a word that was recognisable as ‘Bloggs’ and kept on saying it. Somewhat reassured by the agreement of the rest that ‘Bloggs’ really was the word he kept on saying, she followed him out into the passage.

  She was absent for about twenty minutes and when she returned the excitement in her face told them at once that some new development had occurred. Resuming her place at the table, she said in a low voice:

  ‘Bloggs says that we must not count upon it, but that he has the wish to save us if that be possible.’

  Muted exclamations of relief and hope greeted her announcement, and she went on: ‘He says that another mutiny would not be possible, because he and his friends are still in a sense on probation. They have been allowed to keep their pikes or cutlasses, but were deprived of their fire-arms. Thus the pirates, having pistols and muskets, could soon overcome them.’

  ‘What, then, does he suggest?’ Roger asked eagerly.

  ‘He feels that if the pirates be skilfully approached it should prove possible to detach them from their loyalty to the French nobleman who is their master. But before he makes any move at all, he requires an honourable understanding with yourself about the future.’

  ‘Honourable!’ muttered Amanda in disgust. ‘And he a mutineer and a murderer! How can one treat honourably with such?’

  ‘It was to him we owe it that worse did not befall last night,’ Georgina said quickly.

  ‘Indirectly perhaps; but no more,’ Amanda retorted. ‘He intervened only because he has taken a fancy to that brazen-faced mulatto woman, and flew into one of his great rages on seeing her mishandled. Had he not killed Captain Cummins in the first place and brought the ship to by abandoning her wheel, Circe might well have esc
aped. It was his treachery which has brought us to our present pass; and I’d wager this is some scheme he has hatched to get us into his own hands. I would not trust him an inch.’

  ‘I think, Madame, you take too black a view of him,’ Jenny remarked. ‘Not that I would excuse his crimes; but he seems to me a man whose acts are dictated by two warring natures, so is not altogether responsible for the evil that he does. At least I can vouch for it that just now he referred with deep sensibility to the kindness shown him after his flogging; and spoke most earnestly of his desire to aid us.’

  Roger nodded. ‘I judge you right, Jenny. In any case, even if he is playing for his own ends, I cannot think we are likely to fare worse in his hands than those of this Vicomte de Senlac. Seeing our situation, it would be the height of folly not to clutch at any straw; so I will willingly hear what he has to say. Did he give you any idea of his proposals?’

  ‘No, Sir. He only said that it would be dangerous for him to show special interest in the prisoners, but that he would be coming down to his dinner later than the others; and that if you would send the ladies and myself to our cabins, so that he should find you here alone, he should take that as meaning that you are agreeable to treat with him.’

  For a moment there was no more to be said on the subject; so they whiled away the afternoon as best they could, until at four o’clock the hunch-back came in to set fresh food upon the table, and, shortly afterwards, Pedro and Lucette arrived to make their main meal of the day.

  The Carib, as they had already noticed, was far from being a loquacious man, and he hardly opened his mouth except to cram food into it. Lucette, on the other hand, had plenty to say for herself, and after she had satisfied her first hunger she began to question the prisoners on a score of subjects, ranging from their ages and places of birth to the style of hats now being worn in London. In less than twenty minutes Pedro was replete and belched his way out; but Lucette sat on, muching some candied fruits that had been found among the stores, and when Bloggs arrived on the scene she still showed no signs of leaving.

  Roger now became worried that finding all the women captives in the saloon Bloggs would assume that his overture had met with rejection; but there seemed no way of hastening Lucette’s departure and, short of inviting her dangerous anger, the others could not all walk out as long as she continued her lazy questioning of them.

  By the time Bloggs had demolished a great plateful of meat and pickles Roger feared that the chance of talking to him alone that evening was as good as lost, and worse, that he might not risk a further rebuff by making another opportunity. But Georgina had sized up the situation and saved it by saying to Lucette:

  ‘I am accounted something of an artist, Madame; and during our voyage from Madeira I amused myself for a part of the time by designing some clothes that I planned to have made. As they conform to the latest modes, and you are interested in such things, perchance you would care to accompany me to the spare cabin where I keep my trunks. I forget now in which I put them, but between us we should soon rout them out.’

  Lucette at once accepted the invitation, and, as she stood up, Georgina said to Jenny: ‘You had best come with us, to help us in our search.’ That only left Amanda and Clarissa, and no sooner had the others disappeared than they made an excuse to go to their cabins.

  After a moment Roger said in a low voice to Bloggs: ‘I am well aware how desperate is the situation of the ladies and myself and Jenny has told me that you may be able to help us. I can only say that should you be able to do so, we shall owe you more than we can ever repay.’

  Bloggs favoured him with a by no means friendly stare, and replied: ‘Foine words my foine gentleman; but ’tis not fer the likes o’ you that I be concerned. ’Tis fer Jenny, who did nurse me when I were near a corpse from the floggin’ Cap’n Cummins ordered me; an’ fer her ladyship, who showed a poor mariner kindly charity on that same occasion.’Tis no wish of mine that they other ladies should suffer what’s in store for ‘em, either. Yet they’ll all get a taste o’ hell afore their time unless summat can be done within the next day or so.’

  ‘I know it;’ Roger agreed, ‘and I ask no mercy for myself. If by giving my life I can aid them, count it as already given. Now, what have you in mind? ‘I’ve a notion that maybe I could talk round Pedro the Carib. ‘E’s a queer cuss, that one. ‘E don’t speak much, but ‘e onarstans a bit o’ English, an’ Jake an’ me got quite friendly with ‘e up on the poop this forenoon. Seems like ‘e got a ‘ate agin this Frenchy skipper under who ‘e’s bin sailin’. I’ve gota mind to put to ‘e that now ‘e’s cap’n o’ the Circe,‘e should fly ‘is own flag in she, an’ make off on ‘is own.’

  ‘That would certainly create a new situation, but I don’t quite see how it would save the ladies from the sort of thing we fear for them.’

  ‘Ah, but it could; should you be willin’ ter let bygones be bygones, an’ gi’ me an’ my mates a clean ticket.’

  ‘You mean forget that the mutiny ever occurred, and the fact that you killed Captain Cummins?’

  Bloggs nodded his dark curly head. ‘For the death o’ that tyrant I’ll answer to Almighty God; but meantime, should I be caught I’ve no wish to swing in chains fer it from a gallows in Kingston or on Execution Dock. I were figurin’ that you bein’ the new Governor of Martinique, you’d maybe ‘ave the power to give I a pardon.’

  As Roger had always placed the welfare of those he loved before any canon of morality, he replied without hesitation. ‘I have, and I will. I take it, too, that as your companions are also liable to a hanging for mutiny you want pardons for them as well?’

  ‘That’s so, Mister Brook; an’ there’s yet another thing. Piracy be the resort only o’ the most desperate characters, seein’ that pirate ships be liable to attack by any naval vessel that may happen along, whatsoever be her nation. But privateerin’s a very different kettle o’ fish. ’Tis respectable as well as profitable; an’ you bein’ Governor of an island could, I make no doubt, give we a privateer’s commission.’

  ‘Yes, I could do that,’ Roger agreed, much impressed with the good sense that Bloggs was showing. ‘And I take it that in return you would arrange for us to be given our freedom?’

  ‘ ’Twas on them lines that I were thinkin’. O’ course Pedro an’ ‘is mates would ’ave to be given a clean bill, clearing they from all counts likely ter arise out o’ they’s past. They’d not row in wi’ we otherwise. But do ‘e pledge me yer word about a privateer’s commission an’ free pardons for all, an’ I’ve a good ‘ope ’twill serve as a strong enough inducement fer Pedro an’ the rest to agree that you an’ the ladies should be put ashore.’

  ‘What of Madame Lucette?’ Roger asked a shade anxiously. ‘Think you she can be persuaded to become a party to this deal—or at least prevented from wrecking it?’

  Bloggs hesitated a moment, then he grinned. ‘She be that unpredictable ’tis more ’an I would say as yet. But so happen she’ve taken a bit o’ a fancy to me; an’ me ter her fer that matter.’

  ‘Then if Pedro definitely agrees to your proposals, there should be a good chance of your winning her over?’

  ‘That’s the rig o’ it, Mister Brook. Jake an’ me will make a cast at ‘e durin’ second dog watch, an’ if all’s well I’ll broach it to Lucette arter I’ve boarded she agin this comin’ night. Have I yer solemn promise as a gentleman ter abide by our onerstandin’?’

  Roger smiled, partly at the thought that despite Blogg’s enthusiasm for the doctrine of ‘Equality’ he should still place more faith in the word of a gentleman than in that of one of his own kind; but much more with relief, that above the black pit of terror in which the Circe’s passengers had been plunged these past twenty-four hours there should now have appeared a ray of light. Wisely, he decided that since their new hope was entirely dependent on Bloggs’s goodwill there must be no half measures about burying the past; so standing up he held out his hand and said:

  ‘You have more than my w
ord, for we shall still remain your prisoners until you choose to release us; but I give it you willingly and here is my hand upon it.’

  Bloggs crushed the extended fingers for a moment in an iron grip, grinned again, and left the cabin.

  When he had gone Roger sat down quickly. For the past hour his head had been paining him severely, and after the effort needed for the interview reaction swiftly set in. The stalwart Bloggs had radiated confidence, but, now he had gone Roger began to reckon up the odds against his being able to carry his scheme through successfully.

  First, he might have read more than was intended into a few surly remarks about the Vicomte by the taciturn Pedro. Secondly, even if Pedro was game to double-cross his master, would his men agree to follow his lead? He was far from having the forceful personality of a João de Mondego and, Roger had gathered, owed his position as an officer only to the fact that having known the reefs and shoals of these coasts since boyhood he was an expert at piloting a ship through them. It seemed much more likely that the other pirates would follow whatever lead was given them by Lucette. And on the previous night she had braved João’s wrath out of loyalty to the Vicomte.

  From what Bloggs had said it was clear that she had become his mistress, so he was in a stronger position than anyone else to influence her; but Roger did not feel that any great weight could be attached to that. One look at the big healthy body of such a tawny tigress was enough to tell any man that she revelled in every form of sensuality. Seeing the life she was leading, it could hardly be doubted that in the past dozen years she had willingly allowed herself to be caressed by scores, if not hundreds, of men. That she should have taken the repulsive João for a lover showed that her appetite was now jaded to a point where it required constant new stimulants; so it was as good as certain that she looked on Bloggs as no more than just another dish to be tasted. In a week or two she would probably cast him off anyway, and a month later have forgotten his existence; so if his project did not appeal to her it was more than likely that she would rid herself of him overnight—quite possibly by sticking a knife between his ribs.