The Dark Secret of Josephine

by Dennis Wheatley

  His courteous, if cynical, pronouncement filled them all with unutterable relief. Previously to the bargain Roger had made with Bloggs, to be allowed to go unharmed in exchange for a ransom was the very best they had hoped for, and after the sudden renewal of their worst fears so recently they could hardly believe their good fortune. Next moment they were thanking him as gratefully as if he had just made them a most handsome present, and it did not even cross their minds to resent his making free with their property, as he went on to say:

  ‘Your jewels will form a pleasant addition to my collection, and Lucette, here, will decide which of your clothes it will be fitting for you to keep. You have, I am sure, many more than you need; and she deserves some small recompense for the skilful way in which she countered the designs of those who sought to deprive me of your company.’

  Lucette, hands on hips, was standing beside him, her head turbaned in a colourful handkerchief, so tied that three of its corners stuck out in jaunty points. Tossing it, she said with a laugh that held a suggestion of a sneer:

  ‘Monsieur le Vicomte is most generous; but it required no great skill to get the better of such simpletons. Not one of them showed the least suspicion that it was I who knifed Pedro, or let the last of their water run to waste to provide an excuse for putting the ship about. You should have seen the astonishment in the eyes of that fool Bloggs when he woke this morning to find that I had bound him while he slept, and was about to pull the cord with which I strangled him.’

  De Senlac nodded vigorously and gave a hight-pitched chuckle. His obvious approval of her horrifying deeds suddenly brought home to them that he was neither more nor less than a gallows bird in fine plumage; but they swiftly concealed their revulsion, and soon after were again counting themselves lucky that avarice had decided him to protect them from his following of brutal desperadoes.

  They were allowed to pack a portmanteau each to take ashore, and Lucette did not prove ungenerous in the things she allowed them to select. Then they followed their luggage into the boat that had brought the Vicomte off, and were rowed to a small jetty below the house. It was November the 28th, eight weeks and two days since they had sailed from Bristol; but as they at last set foot in the Americas it seemed to them as though the few days since the capture of the Circe had been longer than the whole of the rest of their voyage.

  The sand of the beach was shimmering with heat, and the sun blazed down mercilessly; so, although they had been exposed to it in the open boat for little over a quarter of an hour, they were all perspiring freely and beginning to fear the effects of sunburn. When they reached the wide veranda of the house, the shade it provided was as welcome as a douche of cold water. On it there were a dozen or so lounge chairs of bamboo, and the Vicomte courteously bowed his prisoners to them. They had scarcely seated themselves when a Negro in livery appeared carrying a large jug, filled with what looked as if it might be lemon squash, and glasses. The drink proved delicious but quite unlike anything they had ever tasted, and Lucette told them that it was a concoction made from soursops and rum.

  When their glasses were refilled, de Senlac said: ‘While we finish our drinks let us dispose of the uncongenial subject of business, then we need refer to it no further. How much can you afford to pay me by way of ransom?’

  Feeling that it would be futile to suggest too small a sum, Roger replied: ‘There are five of us, so I suggest five thousand pounds.’

  The Vicomte gave his high-pitched chuckle. ‘Come, come, Monsieur le Gouverneur! You set too small a price upon yourself, and one which comes near an insult to the beauty of these ladies. You must do better than that.’

  Roger spread out his hands and made a little grimace. It was a gesture which came quite naturally to him from having lived for so long in France. ‘Perhaps you are unaware, Monsieur, that I have not yet taken up my Governorship. It is a reward for certain services I rendered to my government which were of a far from profitable nature; and neither my wife nor I have any private fortune. Mademoiselle Marsham had the misfortune to be left a penniless orphan, Jenny here is entirely dependent on her mistress and Lady St. Ermins’s position is now most uncertain, owing to the death of her husband.’

  ‘Monsieur, you bring tears to my eyes.’ The Vicomte’s voice was mocking, then suddenly became harsh as he added: ‘Yet the tears will be in yours and theirs unless you can raise fifty thousand between you.’

  ‘Fifty thousand!’ Roger gasped. ‘To find even a fifth of that sum would bring me near ruin. I beg you to show us a reasonable consideration.’

  De Senlac shrugged. ‘Persons of your birth must have connections who could raise it for you. If not, you know the alternative.’

  ‘Oh Monsieur!’ Amanda pleaded with clasped hands. ‘I pray you believe my husband, for he speaks the truth; and we have no relatives to whom we could appeal for so huge a ransom.’

  ‘Forgive me, Madame, if I suggest that your memory is at fault. Perhaps if for just one night I allow my men to follow their usual custom of drawing lots for the enjoyment of the favours of yourself and your friends, that would refresh your memory by tomorrow.’

  They all paled at his abominable threat, but Georgina stepped into the breach and said in a low voice: ‘My husband’s estate apart, I have certain properties of my own, and if the sale of them proved insufficient I am confident that my father would make up the difference.’

  ‘Ah!’ exclaimed the Vicomte. ‘Madame la Comtesse shows the most admirable sense, and relieves me from taking a step that I should have found most distasteful.’

  Roger had far greater cause for relief; but, all the same, he wished that Georgina, had made some attempt to get the amount reduced. He thought it quite probable that de Senlac would have settled for half the sum and the full fifty thousand was an appalling ransom to have to find. There would be no question of Georgina’s selling Stillwaters as it was hers only for life, but although her rich father would certainly help her, this great inroad into her resources might make it impossible for her to continue living there; and the least he himself could now do would be to hand over to her as his contribution the bulk of his savings. However there could be no going back on her offer, so he said to de Senlac:

  ‘May we take it then that if Lady St. Ermins writes to her father on the lines she suggests, you will prove means for us to continue our interrupted voyage as soon as possible?’

  ‘No, no, mon ami,’ the Vicomte cackled. ‘That is too much to ask. Madame la Comtesse shall write her letter tomorrow, and I will give her to put in it the name of a Genoese banker who is a good friend of mine. It is to him that the money must be remitted; and when the full sum has been paid he will notify me to that effect. Only then can I permit you to depart.’

  ‘But that will take months,’ Amanda protested.

  ‘Yes, four months at the least. Perhaps six or more. As we do not enjoy the amenity of a regular mail service here, my correspondence is subject to the additional delays consequent on being sent to and collected from certain of the larger Caribbean ports. However, we will do our best to make your stay in Tortuga a pleasant one.’

  ‘You are very kind,’ Roger forced himself to say. ‘But should there be such long delay in my taking up my post, my Government may believe me dead and appoint some other in my place, so that I’ll lose it altogether. Can you not possibly…’ ‘May I remind you, Monsieur,’ the Vicomte cut him short, ‘that you are very lucky not to be actually dead. You might well have lost your life at the same time as your friend, the Lord St. Ermins.’

  ‘That is true,’ agreed Roger. ‘Yet since I am alive I am naturally anxious to secure my future. Will you not accept our word of honour to do nought which might invalidate the agreement at which we have arrived; and my promise to raise five thousand pounds to send you on account immediately we reach Martinique?’

  De Senlac shook his head. ‘I regret to disoblige you; but on this point my mind is made up. You must all remain here until I receive definite information that the mo
ney is lying to my order in Genoa.’

  Roger had made his bid and could do no more. From the beginning he had felt that the chances were against the Vicomte’s letting them go on the sole security of their word, but had hoped for a better bargain. Fifty thousand pounds and six months’ detention on Tortuga was a heavy price to pay. Yet it was still cheap compared to the alternative; and there was always a possibility that they might be able to escape. The only thing to do was to try to look cheerful and hope that the future might bring better fortune.

  Having finished his drink, the Vicomte went on: ‘As a good half of the hottest hours of the day still lie before us I suggest that we should adjourn for the siesta. At sundown it is my intention to dispense justice to the Circe’s crew, and afterwards we will dine. The former may provide you with a spectacle of some interest; to the latter I shall look forward, as I rarely have the opportunity of entertaining persons of my own quality.’

  Standing up, he made a leg to the ladies and, without waiting for a reply, strutted into the house. Lucette followed him and beckoned the prisoners after her. They entered a wide, airy hall with a broad staircase, up which the Vicomte was mounting to the floor above, but she took them through it and down a passage that ran along the back of the building. Throwing open a row of doors one after the other she said:

  ‘Here are your rooms. They are not often occupied, but I think you will find them quite comfortable. At least you may count yourselves lucky to be in them instead of in the cells. But don’t toy with any idea of escaping. You would only get lost in the forest, and we should be certain to catch you; then M. le Vicomte would have your toe-nails torn out, to prevent your running away again. I will send the slaves to you with your baggage. Ask them for anything you may require.’

  As she stolled away, with her usual feline grace, they looked about them. The rooms were sparsely furnished and the plaster was peeling from the walls; but they were lofty, light and airy, and each had a pair of frenen windows opening on to the veranda.

  Within a few minutes two negroes appeared with their portmanteaux; then a smiling negress who filled all their jugs with water, shook a variety of insects out of the bed curtains, and brought bowls of fruit which she set down on the bedside tables. While she was busy with these chores they stood about discussing in low voices their recent interview; but they were longing to get out of their heavier garments, so as soon as she had gone they pulled them off, had a quick wash and, exhausted by the heat, flung themselves on the beds to rest.

  Roger was roused from an uneasy doze by a knocking on his door. Propping himself up on one elbow, he called ‘entrez’ and a tall young man came in. He was a handsome, gaily dressed fellow, and his hair, which he wore long, was golden, but his features were slightly negroid, showing him to be a sangmêlé, as mulattoes having only a small proportion of black blood are termed.

  With a bright toothed smile he said in lisping Creole-French: ‘M. le Vicomte is about to hold his seigneurial court. He requests the presence of yourself and your ladies.’ After a moment, he added: ‘My name is Jean Herault. My father is M. le Vicomte’s bailiff and I assist him in running the estate. We are likely to see a lot of one another: so I hope we shall get upon good terms.’

  Scrambling off the bed Roger replied that he was happy to make Monsieur Herault’s acquaintance, and would join M. le Vicomte as soon as possible. Then pulling on his clothes he went to rouse the others, and when all of them had dressed they walked through the main hall out on to the veranda.

  The sun had already gone down behind the hills so the house was now in shadow; but a number of large, hanging lanterns had been lit along the veranda, and a trestle table carried out on to it. A paunchy, elderly man was arranging writing materials beside a ledger, at one end of the table, and nearby de Senlac stood talking to two of his pirates; a very thick-set dark-visaged sea-dog with at least five hundred pieces-of-eight forming a great collar of silver round his neck, and a taller fellow who had a great hook nose and diamond ear-drops dangling from his ears.

  As the prisoners appeared the Vicomte introduced his companions as his two Lieutenants: the dark one as Philo the Greek and the other as Cyrano de la Mer, which was obviously a nom de guerre. He then presented the elderly man as his Bailiff, Hypolite Herault, and when they had made their bows he said:

  ‘I will explain the proceedings that are about to take place. In a domain such as I have established here there are a great variety of duties, varying in their degree of hardship. Apart from our activities at sea, which are our main support, we have cane-fields and tobacco plantations further inland that must be cultivated. There is also the rearing and tending of our livestock, and the repairing and careening of our vessels.

  ‘I own, of course, a number of permanent slaves, but after each voyage the conduct of my seamen during it is reviewed by me. Those who have shown initiative or special bravery are rewarded by periods of leave, so that they may go on the spree in our nearest ports. Others who have proved unsatisfactory are relegated to menial tasks, and those guilty of definite neglect of duty are sent for a time to labour with the slaves.

  ‘When we take a prize, as on the present occasion, I have also to decide on the future of the captured crew. Fighting and sickness are a constant drain on our numbers; so good seamen who are willing to join us are welcomed as recruits. Those who show reluctance are enrolled among the slaves; while officers and others who might prove a focus for future trouble have to be disposed of. Our ways of disposing of them vary but it is always by some method which will provide good sport for my men.’

  While he was speaking a motley crowd began to gather below the steps of the veranda. Twilight had now fallen, and as it swiftly deepened the full companies of the two ships assembled, including a score or more who were brought forward with their arms tied behind their backs. The majority of the captives were from the Circe, and among them Roger saw Tom, young Doctor Fergusson, the Second Mate, the Swedish purser, the consumptive Supercargo and Jake Harris, but with them were also four of the pirates who had formed part of the prize crew. Anxiously he searched among the rows of upturned faces for Dan’s but beyond the semi-circles of light cast by the lanterns it was now difficult to make out individual features. For some moments he feared that the ex-smuggler must have fallen a victim to the pirates, then he caught sight of him on the fringe of the crowd and his heart felt lighter than it had for days at the knowledge that his old friend was safe and free.

  Dan’s apparent treachery had not been mentioned since Roger had come to after the taking of the Circe, and he had deliberately refrained from speaking of it to the others for his own good reasons. Fearing that the ship might be taken while they were still in her he had given Dan secret instructions that in such an event he was to go over to the enemy, with the idea that it would both save his life and, perhaps, later enable him to help them. To render such a step easier he had told Dan that, should all appear lost, he must bring himself to the enemy’s notice by hauling down the Circe’s flag. Dan had done so, and the trick had worked. Evidently, with a number of others he had already been vetted by de Senlac and accepted as a useful member of the pirate fraternity.

  The Vicomte now seated himself at the table between Philo the Greek and Cyrano de la Mer, while the elder Herault took one end of it and the younger the other. Georgina sat down in one of the basket chairs nearby, her companions followed her example and, as they did so, a brawny, bald-headed man came out of the crowd to the foot of the steps. Calling up a succession of men before the tribunal he praised some and blamed others. Most of them remained silent but certain of those accused of faults endeavoured to defend themselves, and at these he bellowed a stream of filthy abuse culled from a dozen tongues.

  Apparently de Senlac was already well informed on the cases brought before him, as he dealt with all of them swiftly, only on two occasions troubling to consult with his Lieutenants; and in several he gave his verdict in less than a minute. Within half an hour the bald man had come to
the end of his list and Lucette took his place.

  She opened her part of the proceedings by describing how Pedro and Bloggs had conspired to make off with the Circe, and how she had tricked and murdered both in turn. It transpired that once Pedro was out of the way she had been able to release the members of the prize-crew who had shown reluctance to join him, and later been arrested on suspicion; then with their aid won back some of their companions and some of the Circe’s mutineers. She had undertaken to strangle Bloggs during the night, while the others either killed or overcame the men who they felt would remain loyal to Bloggs; and between them in the morning they had brought the ship safely into harbour.

  According to how one looked at it the story was either one of high loyalty, brilliant planning, courage and daring, or of the basest treachery, despicable cunning, villainy and murder; but, from the tremendous ovation Lucette received, there could be no doubt about the view that the Vicomte and his followers took of it.

  She then played the part of presenter, or accuser and witness, against her companions of the past few days. Those who had given her willing aid were suitably rewarded, those who had had to be won over were detailed for the gruelling work of careening, and four pirates of the prize-crew who had stood out against her till overcome were sentenced to slavery for life.

  Finally the Vicomte dealt with those prisoners originally taken from the Circe who had refused to join his following. The seamen, and young Tom, were condemned to slavery; the rest to death.

  Herault père had already entered all the decisions in his ledger, and on de Senlac’s rising from the table the crowd began to disperse. Neither Georgina nor her friends had been able to find Monsieur Pirouet in it; so, stepping forward, she enquired what had become of him.