‘The prosperity that he had hoped to bring to Brazil was thwarted by two wars: the first in 1851-2 against the Argentine in an attempt to destroy the brutal regime there; the second against Paraguay. It dragged on from 1865 to 1870. But the real cause of Dom Pedro’s downfall was his attitude to slavery. He had freed his own inherited slaves as early as 1840. Then, in 1871, he decreed that all children born of slaves after that date should be free. Finally, in 1888, he forced through a law for complete abolition of slavery.
‘That spelled ruin for the owners of the great estates and a hundred million pounds’ worth of property was rendered valueless. At the time, the Emperor was again in Europe. On his return, he received a great ovation. But in his absence the ruined landowners, the industrialists and the Army had combined against him. Without warning, there occurred a bloodless coup d’état. With great dignity he accepted it, refused a large sum of money that was offered to him, and returned to Europe to spend the remainder of his life continuing his studies of Asiatic languages and Comparative Religions. That is how the monarchy ended and on May 13th, 1888, Brazil became a Republic.’
As the Ratu fell silent, Gregory said, ‘As a visitor, you are remarkably well up in the history of this country.’
James shrugged a shade self-consciously. ‘I hope I haven’t bored you, but it was the Senhora de Carvalho who aroused my interest in Brazil and told me all this. She is a most knowledgeable girl and has a special interest in the history of her country because she has the Royal Braganza blood in her own veins.’
Some miles further on they left the highway for a side road that was ill-kept and extremely bumpy. Eventually it brought them to the de Carvalho fazenda. On either side of the approach to the house there were many barns and outhouses. Crossing a bridge over a shallow ravine, they drove round to the entrance of the house, which was on its far side. From there, across a lovely sloping garden, there was a magnificent view of rolling pastures with grazing cattle and patches of woodland.
As they drove up, their host came out and gave them a smiling welcome. He was a short but sturdy man in his middle forties; black-haired, dark-complexioned, with a square face, forceful chin and heavily-lidded eyes.
The house was a one-storey building containing many large, lofty rooms, At that altitude air-conditioning would have been redundant, but there were gently-moving fans in all the ceilings, to circulate the pleasantly warm air. The bedrooms to which de Carvalho showed them were sparsely furnished, but the living rooms displayed wealth and good taste. They contained many examples of antique Brazilian pottery, well filled book-shelves and paintings that must have been worth several thousand pounds.
When Gregory and James had refreshed themselves by a wash, their host provided them with Planter’s Punches and, soon afterwards, his wife joined them. Her name was Olinda da Conceiçao—the beautiful one of the conception—and at the first glance Gregory saw that she did justice to her name.
She was an exceptionally tall girl—slightly taller, he judged, than himself—with broad shoulders and big hips. Her skin was golden brown, her hair copper-coloured, her mouth full but not thick-lipped like Manon’s, and beautifully curved. In her eyes there lay a slumbrous fire and her firm, almost aggressive chin showed that she had plenty of determination. Recalling that James had said that Dom Pedro had been six foot four and that Olinda had Braganza blood, it occurred to Gregory that she had probably inherited her height from the Emperor.
Lunch proved to be one of the best meals Gregory had enjoyed since arriving in Brazil, and a pleasant change from restaurant food. It was not too heavy but suggested that the de Carvalhos had a French chef or, anyway, a French-trained cook; and with the meal they drank a good Moselle.
Over lunch, no mention was made of the treasure. They talked only of the country and what the visitors had so far seen of it. Afterwards they walked round the garden, heavy with the scent of magnolia blossoms, then retired for their siestas.
When they met again they drank mate which, among the lower classes of Brazil, takes the place of tea. In this case Olinda had ordered the brew only because her visitors had not yet tried it. Gregory thought it like very strong Indian tea and rather unpleasant, but he admired the vessels in which it was served. They were cow-horns, beautifully embellished with gold filigree work, and the liquid was sucked up from them through a silver ‘straw’, called a combello, with a filter tip to prevent the leaves from getting into the drinker’s mouth.
Afterwards Olinda, Gregory and James bathed in the swimming pool. Gregory had never cared for big women but, on seeing Olinda in only a bikini, he freely conceded that she was a truly magnificent creature, and he did not wonder that James was obviously attracted to her. In bathing trunks, the rippling muscles of his pale-brown body now exposed to view, the young Ratu made an equally striking figure, and it crossed Gregory’s mind how much better suited they would have been as a couple than Olinda and her squat, middle-aged husband, who was lying in a hammock—a means of taking one’s ease invented by the Brazilian Indians—near the pool, smoking a cigar.
A delicious iced cup made from soursops was brought out to them, then they went in to dress for dinner. The meal was a long one and again admirably chosen, but it was not until they were served with old brandy in the drawing room that de Carvalho spoke of the business his visitors had come upon.
After swirling the liquor in the balloon glass, and sniffing its bouquet, he said to James:
‘My dear Ratu, I fear I have bad news for you; but I did not want to spoil your day here by speaking of it earlier. I have decided against financing the project you put up to me.’
James’s face fell a little as he asked, ‘May I ask why, Senhor?’
‘Because enquiries lead me to believe that there is very little likelihood of any substantial amount of gold being in your sunken galleon. Great quantities of gold were taken by the Spaniards from Peru, but they sent it home to Spain across the Atlantic. It is true that their ships were constantly crossing the Pacific, to the Philippines and other countries in Asia. But there was no gold in such places for them to bring back, and no point in their sending any large sums out. The only purpose of these voyages across the Pacific was to send supplies to their colonists and return with cargoes of spices, silks and ivories. Therefore, I am now convinced that, should you succeed in bringing up anything there is to bring up, it will be only a few bags of doubloons that were being sent out to pay the Spanish garrisons. That is why I am not prepared to back you.’
Suddenly Olinda, her dark eyes flashing, leaned forward in her chair and cried, ‘That is not true! You are refusing because you are a coward! You are backing out because you have been threatened.’ Her voice rose in a sneer. ‘Yes, you are letting the Ratu down because you have allowed yourself to become scared—and by a woman!’
5
A Midnight Visitor
Valentim de Carvalho’s swarthy face flushed and his heavily-lidded eyes narrowed. For a moment he looked as though he was about to burst with rage, but he controlled himself, managed a slightly twisted smile and said acidly:
‘My dear, I understand your disappointment. You are a born romantic and had set your heart upon this quest for treasure. But I am a financier, so naturally am opposed to throwing my money down the drain. That is my reason for refusing to finance the Ratu, not because I was warned that if I backed him certain people would make serious trouble for me.’
There was a moment’s silence, then Gregory said, ‘I have been considering offering to participate in this speculation; so may I ask who was this woman who threatened you?’
De Carvalho shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘I don’t know her name, but I met her at a reception at the British Embassy just before I went up to Guatemala. Our conversation was very brief. She came up to me and simply said, “I happen to know that you are thinking of financing the Ratu James Omboloku in his project of securing sunken treasure. Others are interested in this affair, and I have been instructed to give you warning that
, should you do so, it will be the worse for you. The people I represent will stick at nothing to gain their ends, and unless you keep out of their way it may well cost you your life.”
‘I was about to question her when the Ambassador’s wife beckoned to me. As I acknowledged her signal, the woman slipped away and became lost in the crowd. Later I tried to find her, but failed. Evidently she had left soon after conveying her warning to me. I enquired of the Ambassador and several other people who she was, but no-one could put a name to my description of her. That was not surprising, as at this reception there were several hundred people. More than that I cannot tell you.’
After a moment, Gregory asked, ‘Was the woman British or Brazilian?’
‘Neither. Most of the people at the reception were, of course, talking in English, and it was in that language she addressed me. But she did not speak it very well. She was of medium height and I judged her to be in her middle thirties. She had dark hair, very fine eyes and a good figure. In fact I thought her quite striking; so I was all the more surprised later that no-one should be able to tell me from my description who she was. I have no idea of her nationality, but she was a Mediterranean type—Italian, French, Greek, or perhaps a Spaniard with a dash of Moorish blood.’
Gregory looked across at James. ‘Have you any idea who this woman could have been?’
‘Not the faintest; and this occurrence astounds me. Until now I was entirely unaware that anyone else was interested in the old wreck and her gold.’
Standing up, de Carvalho said:
‘Well, there we are. If Mr. Sallust still feels inclined to put up money for this treasure hunt, that is his affair. But you must count me out. And now, let us not spoil our evening by discussing this affair further. As my withdrawal must be depressing for the Ratu, instead, over a magnum of French champagne, we will talk of other things.’
The magnum was brought and for two hours that quickly slipped away de Carvalho laid himself out to be pleasant. He was extremely knowledgeable about Brazil’s chequered history and the succeeding waves of fortune and misfortune that had sent its economy seesawing. First, during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries had come the sugar boom which made the owners of many great estates fabulously rich, but it was killed by the competition of the Caribbean Islands. Next, wealth came to Brazil as the world’s greatest source of rubber; but by 1910 the planters of Malaya and the Dutch East Indies were underselling her, so that the flourishing towns on the Amazon soon became dying communities. Then Brazil held almost a monopoly in the export of coffee, but the competition of the African growers led in 1950 to vast, unsold surpluses having to be burned and many plantations being abandoned to return to jungle. Lumber, too, had had its boom and the country still had vast resources of timber, but transport made it difficult to exploit fully this source of wealth. Diamonds, tobacco, cotton and bananas all helped the economy, but Brazil’s greatest wealth lay in iron and other minerals. Two hundred miles north of Rio there was a mountain, composed almost entirely of iron ore, and so far only the top four hundred feet had been shaved off. The unexploited riches of the country were fabulous; hardly yet touched, and the vast interior, where primitive Indians were the only inhabitants, had, even yet, not been fully explored. Every endeavour to develop the country was thwarted by lack of capital and the scarcity of modern roads.
Olinda took little part in the conversation and at eleven o’clock went off to bed; but Valentim was obviously enjoying himself and when they had finished the magnum, insisted on making a King Cup, of more champagne laced with brandy. Gregory had a head like a rock, so survived the party; but, by the time it broke up, James, who was not accustomed to heavy drinking, was obviously very tight.
When the three men met next morning at breakfast, poor James was still very much under the weather, but de Carvalho said he would soon put him right and produced for him a drink made from the ground berries of the Guaranà plant. This he declared to be a sovereign remedy for a hangover and, as he added cold water to the powder, he remarked with a laugh, ‘Many Brazilians drink this every morning, as it is said both to aid longevity and to be a mild aphrodisiac.’
Breakfast over, Valentim went to his study to write some letters. As soon as he had gone, Gregory asked James, ‘Have you still no idea who this woman is who threatened de Carvalho?’
James gave a rueful grin. ‘As far as my head permitted, I have been puzzling about that ever since I woke up. Who the woman was I haven’t a notion, and I can think of only one person who would like to thwart my plans. That is old Roboumo, a witch-doctor who lives on a small island near Revika, the capital of Tujoa, and has great influence over my people.’
‘Why should he be opposed to your bettering their lot?’
‘Because he would stand to lose by it. He controls a gang of badmen, and runs what, in modern terms, could be called a protection racket. They blackmail the superstitious into handing over a percentage of their slender earnings. If I could bring a modern way of life to Tujoa the people would no longer be superstitious, and would defy him. He would lose his power and he is determined to cling on to it.’
‘Have you not sufficient influence to break the hold he has over your people?’
The Ratu sighed. ‘Unfortunately, no. As is the case in most of the South Sea Islands, the people still have great respect for their hereditary rulers and accept their guidance in the majority of matters. But draunikau, as witchcraft is called, still plays a great part in their lives. They are frightened of the curses this evil man might put upon them, so still remain subservient to him.’
‘That is quite understandable. But it is difficult to believe that a witch-doctor on a remote island in the Pacific could have the sort of connections that would enable him to threaten a financier in Rio de Janeiro. And the woman did not threaten de Carvalho with a curse. She said she represented people who would stick at nothing, which is a very different matter.’
‘I agree. But as far as I know I have no enemies except Roboumo, and I doubt if more than a handful of Europeans have even heard that there is gold in this sunken ship.’
‘Well, it seems certain that somebody is taking an interest in her, and that someone must have known that you had come to Rio in the hope of getting de Carvalho to finance you.’
‘True, but that gets us nowhere. The whole island knows that on and off for several weeks I have spent my time skin-diving to explore the galleon, and I discussed my plans with my Council of Elders before leaving for Rio; so anyone might have become aware of my intentions.’
‘If these people’s Intelligence is good, they’ll soon send a threat to me,’ Gregory remarked.
‘Then you still mean to find the money for me,’ James said with evident relief. ‘I was afraid that after last night you might decide not to.’
Gregory laid a hand on the young man’s arm and smiled to soften the blow he was about to deliver. ‘I’ve never definitely said I would, only that I was very interested and greatly inclined to. I still am, and no threats would frighten me off. But I couldn’t help being impressed by what de Carvalho said about the gold from Peru always being sent across the Atlantic and never the Pacific. Like him, I am averse to very risky speculations in which my money is likely to go down the drain, and …’
‘But wait!’ James interrupted. ‘He wasn’t altogether right about that. Lately, I’ve been reading quite a lot about the Spanish Conquest. From Mexico they did ship the gold they got there direct across the Atlantic, but they couldn’t do that with the gold from Peru. In those days there was no Panama Canal, and it was impossible for them to transport it across the Andes, then through hundreds of miles of unexplored Brazilian jungle. They had to ship it from Lima, up the west coast of Central America to Acapulco in Mexico; so at least half of those treasure galleons’ voyages did take place in the Pacific.’
‘No dice, dear boy.’ Gregory shook his head. ‘Admittedly they had to sail right up the Pacific coast of Central America but that is five thousand miles
from your home town, and you can’t tell me that any ship was ever blown that far off course.’
The young Ratu’s face fell, but Gregory gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and continued, ‘Don’t be downhearted. I’ve not said no yet; but before I say yes I do want to secure further information.’
‘I don’t see how you can.’
‘Well, I do. In the days when the greater part of America was ruled by Spain it was run by the Council of the Indies, which sat in Seville. Even the Viceroys took their orders from the Council and it recorded in detail every transaction that took place here. I know that for a fact because when I was in Seville I was shown some of the vast collection of documents. You told me that this ship was not a high-pooped galleon of the old style, but you judged her to be a warship of the type used towards the end of the eighteenth century. That narrows the search, and in the records there should be an entry of such a ship being lost off the Nakapoa Group with particulars of the cargo she was carrying. It will mean my going to Spain; but time is my enemy these days, so I have no objection to making the trip. Now, how about a dip in the pool?’
Much cheered, James agreed, and ten minutes later they were disporting themselves in the water. Shortly afterwards, Olinda joined them and, when Gregory went in to dress, James remained out there with her. As the window of Gregory’s room looked out on to the pool, from time to time he took a look at them. After a while he observed with interest that James was no longer displaying his ability to make complicated dives and swimming for three lengths under water. He and Olinda were sitting close together on the side of the pool, with their feet dangling into it, engaged in earnest conversation.
Gregory had shrewdly assessed that Olinda’s attack on her husband had been caused not so much by annoyance at being deprived of participation in an exciting undertaking as by anger at his refusal to finance James. Gregory thought it probable that she had little interest in retrieving the gold but had been greatly looking forward to a long stay on Tujoa in James’s company. Anyhow, he felt certain now that she was just as much attracted to the handsome Ratu as he was to her; and he wondered how far, had their association been likely to continue, de Carvalho would have allowed this budding romance to go.
The White Witch of the South Seas Page 7
