Gregory and Manon at once agreed that they would like to see this extraordinary performance. They then strolled on past the market, down to the harbour and went on board the Boa Viagem.
James and Manon greeted each other pleasantly, as old acquaintances, but it was the first time the two women had met. As they exchanged courtesies, Gregory was amused to see them sizing each other up. Olinda’s eyes, he noted, swept over Manon’s clothes, that singled her out, even in the tropics, as a Parisienne. Manon’s first glance was at a solitaire diamond which Gregory estimated to be worth several thousand pounds that Olinda was now wearing on her engagement finger.
After a few minutes the four of them were at ease together and soon enjoying well-iced drinks. James was positively glowing with happiness, and Olinda kept glancing at him with obvious delight and pride. Gregory mentioned the expedition to Beqa, and asked if they would like to come, too. James said he had seen it before, when in his teens, but Olinda was enthralled by the idea; so Gregory rang up Mr. Hunt, who obligingly said that he would somehow manage to squeeze two more people into the party.
Olinda insisted that her visitors should stay to lunch, and it proved a merry meal, Manon contributing, by her wit and charm, an outstanding share to their gaiety.
Afterwards Gregory took Olinda aside and asked her if she would do him the kindness to invite Manon to accompany them when they left for Tujoa, and Olinda readily agreed.
Half an hour later Gregory and Manon drove back to the Grand Pacific in a taxi, went to their rooms for their siestas, then met again to swim in the late afternoon. Drinks and dinner followed. Having nothing more to fear from Lacost, she talked and laughed as though spring instead of blood coursed through her veins, so that Gregory was enchanted by her. Later that night, with her lovely body in his arms, he felt as though twenty years had dropped from him, and that from her soft, rich mouth he was drawing the Elixir of Life.
Back in his own room in the early hours, he thought again what a delightful travelling companion she would make. She had charm, wit, vivacity, was well educated and invariably soignée. No one could ever replace Erika for him, but Manon had everything—bar one thing.
Wondering about the future, he dropped asleep, but slept only for three hours, as they had to make an early start for Beqa, and both of them had put in a call for six o’clock.
He had ordered a car for seven o’clock, as it was a drive of some twenty miles to the place where they were to take a boat out to the island. After picking up Olinda and James, they drove west out of Suva, passing the picturesque cemetery, and right round the bay into the flat, cattle country. From a lonely landing stage a small boat took them off to a tubby motor yacht some way out. The party of Americans was already on board and after exchanging polite greetings with some of them, they settled down for the ten-mile sea trip.
The sea was choppy and the ship far from comfortable. They were told that it had formerly been Queen Salote’s yacht, but found that difficult to believe, as the one lavatory could be entered from the cabin only by climbing a steep ladder and through a narrow door; so how so large a lady could have reached it with dignity it was hard to imagine. Manon made Gregory laugh by whispering bawdy comments on the possibilities.
The yacht anchored a good mile off the island, and the water was so shallow that a motor boat could not have taken them more than halfway to the shore. Two native rowing boats came off; but they had to make several trips before the twenty-odd people in the party had all been landed by big, laughing fuzzy-headed men carrying them through the shallows. Even then, as the tide was out, there was a quarter of a mile or more of muddy sand to be crossed between the water and the tangles of exposed mangrove roots that fringed the coast.
On dry land at last, they entered the village. Like all the others they had seen, there was no trace of squalor. Each bure stood well apart from the others, with neat rows of small, white stones marking the path to the door and here and there a palm to give a patch of shade.
There they were greeted by the Vunivalu and his Council of Elders. The Chief, a very old man, explained to them in good English that, as he had recently been ill, he would not be presiding at the ceremony. Then, showing special deference to James, he said that he would explain the proceedings to his party and led the way with them up a steep, grassy slope just beyond the village.
Halfway up the slope there stood what amounted to a small grandstand, with two rows of chairs shaded from the sun by a palm-thatch awning. The Chief bowed Olinda and Manon to chairs on either side of him, and when the rest of the party had taken their places he clapped his hands for the ‘welcome’ ceremony to begin.
The usual yaggona drinking followed, the coconut-shell bilo being first presented to James. Then, to the accompanying hollow hand-claps, everyone else drank in turn.
About fifty feet below them, where the slope flattened out on to level ground, there lay a circular pit some twenty feet in circumference. The surface consisted of smouldering logs from which smoke was rising. Using careful English, in a low voice the old Chief told Olinda and Manon about this ancient custom of his country.
The big pit was three-quarters full of large stones. By a log fire lit at seven o’clock that morning they had been made red-hot. Shortly now all the unburnt wood would be removed to expose the stones. The fire-walkers would then step down into the pit and walk once round it. Today there were eight of them. For twenty-four hours they had been fasting and in seclusion. Several of them had made the fire-walk before. Every healthy man born on Beqa did it at least once, when he reached maturity, otherwise he left the island. Some of the men, including the Chief himself, had done it many times, because doing it brought the favour of the gods and strengthened the spirit.
At a signal from the Chief’s deputy, a dozen natives approached the pit in pairs, each holding one end of a long, very tough, rope-like liana. Throwing these across the pit, they ran from it parallel to each other, so that the middle of the liana formed a bight and, as it narrowed to a loop, caught round one of the smouldering logs; then, hauling on it, they dragged the log out of the pit.
This procedure took about a quarter of an hour. When the big stones had been cleared of the layer of wood the natives again approached the pit, this time carrying long poles. Standing round the edge, they used the poles to prod at the stones, pushing them a little over so that above the roughly level surface no jagged points should be left, upon which a fire-walker might trip.
As they were doing this, one of the poles snapped and the end, about two feet long, fell on the stones. It had not been there for more than thirty seconds when it burst into flame. A murmur went up from the audience, some of whom had been convinced that they were about to witness only some clever trickery, for the flaming pole-end was incontestable evidence that the stones really were intensely hot.
From a nearby bure the eight fire-walkers now emerged in single file. They were naked to the waist, but wore short sulus of what looked like leather; their legs and feet were bare. Carrying themselves very upright, they walked with slow, dignified steps to the pit, down on to the stones, once round it, then out again. Not one of them faltered, made a murmur or showed any change of expression on his face.
There came a burst of applause from the onlookers. As usual on such expeditions, most of the Americans had been taking photographs every few minutes. Now several of them went down the slope to get close-ups of the men. Two of the fire-walkers lay down on their backs and raised their legs in the air, to show that there was not even a blister on the soles of their feet.
The old Chief then personally escorted James and his party back to the beach. Most of the villagers—men, women and children—came too. There was much hand-shaking and laughter, then the visitors were rowed back to the tubby, ill-found yacht. The Americans had spent the previous night at Korolevu, but now they were going on to Suva; so instead of returning to the landing stage, the cruiser set a course for the capital. The distance was more than twice as far, and it proved
anything but a pleasant voyage. Halfway there a squall blew up, it rained in torrents, and the yacht bucked about abominably.
Several of the passengers were seasick, and Olinda and Manon prevented themselves from succumbing only with difficulty. Fortunately, the weather eased when they were within a few miles of the harbour; but on landing they all felt the need of a good, strong drink, so they walked the few hundred yards to the Boa Viagem.
On board, good news awaited them. The one piece of machinery which had been holding up the complete repair of the ship’s engines had been delivered that morning. Captain Amedo reported to Olinda that the engineers had been working on the job all day, and that if a trial run in the forenoon next day proved satisfactory he could sail in the afternoon.
Lacost’s Pigalle, they now learned, had left harbour the previous morning and he had been seen on the bridge when she sailed. This made it clear that, realising he had no chance of doing a deal with Olinda or of eliminating her, he had decided to make all speed for Tujoa, and attempt to get away with the treasure illegally before they could follow and stop him. But now that the Boa Viagem should be able to sail within twenty-four hours, he would then have only two and a half days’ start.
Manon, unaware that this was less than half the lead that Gregory secretly intended to give him and anxious to carry out her promise to Lacost to delay them if possible, began to press them to spend a day or two at her island on their way to Tujoa. As she did so, it suddenly struck her that Olinda would not at all like the idea of visiting the place where her husband had been killed. But Gregory said he thought it an excellent idea, and to her surprise Olinda said she would like to do so in order to make arrangements for Valentim’s grave to be remade and properly tended.
That evening the four of them dined at the Grand Pacific, but the party was somewhat marred by James’ being unusually silent and appearing to be far from happy. When rallied on it, he excused himself by saying that he did not feel very well, which they put down to an after-effect of the tossing they had had that afternoon, and thought no more of it.
Next morning they did their final shopping. At lunchtime Olinda telephoned Gregory to let him know that the yacht’s trial run had been successful and at four o’clock that afternoon he and Manon went aboard with their baggage.
Olinda showed them to their cabins, then they returned with Manon to the saloon. James was sitting there, slumped on a settee, looking thoroughly miserable. Suddenly he came to his feet, stared at Gregory and cried:
‘I’m not going! And neither are you. I won’t let you. This cursed gold has brought us nothing but trouble. Let it stay where it is. Or let Lacost have it. I don’t give a damn. Roboumo had the White Witch curse Valentim and the curse worked. He died at the full of the moon. Roboumo will have her curse us. Both of us. And we’ll die there in Tujoa. I’m through with this business. Through with it. The whole thing is off.’
17
None but the Brave Deserve the Fair
Gregory and Olinda stared at James aghast. Manon regarded him only with curiosity while fighting down an inclination to give a laugh of delight. James’ unexpected declaration that he meant to throw in his hand solved all her problems. Not only would it leave Lacost a free field to secure the gold, but Gregory would not now go to Tujoa and risk his life disputing possession of it with the Colons. Instead, she could get him back to her island, with nothing to distract his mind from herself, and with a far better chance of persuading him to marry her. Even should she fail in that she would, as Pierre’s financial backer, come in for a large enough share of the treasure to be freed from her worries about money. Still better, now that he would become a wealthy man he provided, in addition to being an insatiable lover, an admirable second string as a potential husband.
For almost a minute there ensued an intense silence, then Gregory burst out, ‘James! You cannot mean this! You can’t be serious?’
‘I am,’ James retorted sharply. ‘I have been worrying myself sick about this for days—ever since I learned of Valentim’s death. I’ll have no more to do with it.’
‘But damn it, man, we can’t let those murdering devils get away with it! I don’t give a fig for the money I’ve put into the venture, but I care a lot about being licked at the post solely because my partner lacks the will-power to resist occult blackmail; and that is what it amounts to.’
‘And I care too,’ Olinda followed up, her dark eyes flashing.’ Like Gregory, the money side of it means nothing to me. But I am now the holder of the licence. Valentim paid for it with his life. As I did not love him I feel no desperate urge to be avenged on his murderers. All the same, I’m not prepared to sit still and see them profit from their crime.’
‘I … I feel that I’m letting both of you down,’ James stammered. ‘But I just can’t help myself. I don’t want to die.’
‘Die!’ Gregory snapped angrily. ‘Just because an old witch-doctor has performed some mumbo-jumbo? What nonsense!’
‘It’s not nonsense. Valentim is far from being the only man that I’ve known to die as the result of a curse.’
‘Were any of the others white men?’
‘No.’
‘Did any of them die suddenly, as the result of a heart attack or, apparently, an accident?’
‘Well, no. They just sickened and died.’
‘There you are, then. This was no case of a man gradually losing vitality, then dying because he knew that a curse had been put upon him. De Carvalho was murdered—killed in cold blood while perfectly fit and with all his faculties an entirely different matter.’
Gregory had not previously disclosed to Manon that he knew de Carvalho to have been murdered; so she gave a gasp of simulated surprise, as James retorted swiftly.
‘That is neither here nor there. The fact remains that he met his end on the day of the full moon—just as the White Witch had decreed.’
‘I don’t believe for one moment that she had anything to do with it. You know perfectly well that we had already agreed that, sooner or later, Lacost would do de Carvalho in. That he killed him on the day he did is pure coincidence.’
‘You may think so, but I don’t. And I know much more about what goes on in these islands than you do. In Europe and the United States people may no longer believe in the Black Art, but Draunikau still works here in the South Seas.’
‘I am not contesting that, but of one thing I am certain: it can affect only people who are afraid of it.’
‘All right, then,’ James gave a sullen shrug. ‘There you have the truth of the matter. I am backing out because I am afraid.’
Oh, James!’ Olinda exclaimed reproachfully. ‘You mustn’t say that. I’m sure you are not a coward.’
He turned sad eyes to her. ‘I don’t think I am in a physical sense, but I am about this.’
‘I won’t believe it,’ she protested, ‘it is quite understandable that the natives in these islands should still be affected by magic and curses; but you are an educated man, so should be capable of resisting that sort of thing.’
‘I would have expected more sympathy from you, Olinda,’ he murmured with evident distress. ‘After all, magical practices are an everyday occurrence in Brazil. They call it Macumba there, don’t they, and nearly everyone goes in fear of the Macumba priests.’
‘The ignorant masses do, and plenty of other weak-minded superstitious people. But not those of the class to which I belong. That is, provided they lead normal lives and have sane, well-balanced brains. Only fools would deny the existence of occult powers, but that does not mean that one should allow oneself to become dominated by them.’
‘I’m not. In the ordinary way I never give a thought to such things.’
‘Then, for God’s sake, stop doing so now,’ Gregory put in. ‘All you have to do is to exercise a little will-power. Keep your mind on normal things and ignore this other business.’
‘That’s right.’ Olinda backed him up. ‘I entirely agree with everything Gregory has said. If you
allow your primitive instincts to get the upper hand, and start imagining things, evil people with occult powers can do what they like with you. But if you treat them as if they don’t exist they can’t possibly do you any harm.’
‘You really believe that?’ James asked hesitantly.
‘Indeed I do.’
For a moment they were silent, then Gregory said, ‘Now listen, James. Surely you are sufficiently sophisticated to appreciate that the human brain is like a wireless set, and can be tuned in to many wave-lengths. If you are stupid enough, and stubborn enough, to keep thinking of the awful things that, with the aid of the White Witch, Roboumo might possibly do to you, that will be giving them a chance to pull off something pretty nasty. But if you have the guts to switch to another wave-length their curses will prove as futile as stones thrown against a brick wall.’
James looked miserably from Gregory to Olinda and back again. ‘That’s all very well; and you may be right. But nothing will convince me that Valentim’s death was not due to the White Witch’s curse. And if we go on with this business she’ll curse us and we’ll die too, so how can I stop thinking of that?’
‘If you can’t ignore it, James, fight it.’ Olinda spoke with great earnestness. ‘It is either that, or to go on thinking about it, but with defiance—not in fear. If you don’t you will fall under her evil influence for ever, and she will ruin your whole life.’
‘But I have no occult power, so how can I defy the White Witch?’
‘Everyone has occult power. What you mean is that you have never attempted to use yours.’ Olinda paused for a moment, then went on. ‘I am not suggesting that without prolonged instruction and training you could perform any great magics. But the exertion of will-power to influence others is in itself an occult phenomenon. You also seem to have forgotten that these people are your subjects, and that they are in rebellion against you. As a Ratu and a ruling Prince, it is no less than your duty to pit your will against theirs and subdue them.’
The White Witch of the South Seas Page 31
