Complete Works of Robert Louis Stevenson (Illustrated) (408 page)

Even as she uttered the words, there was a great rumour of joy through all the circle of worshippers; it rose, and fell, and rose again; and swelled at last into rapture, when the tall negro, who had stepped an instant into the chapel, reappeared before the door, carrying in his arms the body of the slave-girl, Cora.  I know not if I saw what followed.  When next my mind awoke to a clear knowledge, Cora was laid upon the steps before the serpents; the negro with the knife stood over her; the knife rose; and at this I screamed out in my great horror, bidding them, in God’s name, to pause.

A stillness fell upon the mob of cannibals.  A moment more, and they must have thrown off this stupor, and I infallibly have perished.  But Heaven had designed to save me.  The silence of these wretched men was not yet broken, when there arose, in the empty night, a sound louder than the roar of any European tempest, swifter to travel than the wings of any Eastern wind.  Blackness engulfed the world; blackness, stabbed across from every side by intricate and blinding lightning.  Almost in the same second, at one world-swallowing stride, the heart of the tornado reached the clearing.  I heard an agonising crash, and the light of my reason was overwhelmed.

When I recovered consciousness, the day was come.  I was unhurt; the trees close about me had not lost a bough; and I might have thought at first that the tornado was a feature in a dream.  It was otherwise indeed; for when I looked abroad, I perceived I had escaped destruction by a hand’s-breadth.  Right through the forest, which here covered hill and dale, the storm had ploughed a lane of ruin.  On either hand, the trees waved uninjured in the air of the morning; but in the forthright course of its advance, the hurricane had left no trophy standing.  Everything, in that line, tree, man, or animal, the desecrated chapel and the votaries of Hoodoo, had been subverted and destroyed in that brief spasm of anger of the powers of air.  Everything, but a yard or two beyond the line of its passage, humble flower, lofty tree, and the poor vulnerable maid who now knelt to pay her gratitude to heaven, awoke unharmed in the crystal purity and peace of the new day.

To move by the path of the tornado was a thing impossible to man, so wildly were the wrecks of the tall forest piled together by that fugitive convulsion.  I crossed it indeed; with such labour and patience, with so many dangerous slips and falls, as left me, at the further side, bankrupt alike of strength and courage.  There I sat down awhile to recruit my forces; and as I ate (how should I bless the kindliness of Heaven!) my eye, flitting to and fro in the colonnade of the great trees, alighted on a trunk that had been blazed.  Yes, by the directing hand of Providence, I had been conducted to the very track I was to follow.  With what a light heart I now set forth, and walking with how glad a step, traversed the uplands of the isle!

It was hard upon the hour of noon, when I came, all tattered and wayworn, to the summit of a steep descent, and looked below me on the sea.  About all the coast, the surf, roused by the tornado of the night, beat with a particular fury and made a fringe of snow.  Close at my feet, I saw a haven, set in precipitous and palm-crowned bluffs of rock.  Just outside, a ship was heaving on the surge, so trimly sparred, so glossily painted, so elegant and point-device in every feature, that my heart was seized with admiration.  The English colours blew from her masthead; and from my high station, I caught glimpses of her snowy planking, as she rolled on the uneven deep, and saw the sun glitter on the brass of her deck furniture.  There, then, was my ship of refuge; and of all my difficulties only one remained: to get on board of her.

Half an hour later, I issued at last out of the woods on the margin of a cove, into whose jaws the tossing and blue billows entered, and along whose shores they broke with a surprising loudness.  A wooded promontory hid the yacht; and I had walked some distance round the beach, in what appeared to be a virgin solitude, when my eye fell on a boat, drawn into a natural harbour, where it rocked in safety, but deserted.  I looked about for those who should have manned her; and presently, in the immediate entrance of the wood, spied the red embers of a fire, and, stretched around in various attitudes, a party of slumbering mariners.  To these I drew near: most were black, a few white; but all were dressed with the conspicuous decency of yachtsmen; and one, from his peaked cap and glittering buttons, I rightly divined to be an officer.  Him, then, I touched upon the shoulder.  He started up; the sharpness of his movement woke the rest; and they all stared upon me in surprise.

‘What do you want?’ inquired the officer.

‘To go on board the yacht,’ I answered.

I thought they all seemed disconcerted at this; and the officer, with something of sharpness, asked me who I was.  Now I had determined to conceal my name until I met Sir George; and the first name that rose to my lips was that of the Señora Mendizabal.  At the word, there went a shock about the little party of seamen; the negroes stared at me with indescribable eagerness, the whites themselves with something of a scared surprise; and instantly the spirit of mischief prompted me to add, ‘And if the name is new to your ears, call me Metamnbogu.’

I had never seen an effect so wonderful.  The negroes threw their hands into the air, with the same gesture I remarked the night before about the Hoodoo camp-fire; first one, and then another, ran forward and kneeled down and kissed the skirts of my torn dress; and when the white officer broke out swearing and calling to know if they were mad, the coloured seamen took him by the shoulders, dragged him on one side till they were out of hearing, and surrounded him with open mouths and extravagant pantomime.  The officer seemed to struggle hard; he laughed aloud, and I saw him make gestures of dissent and protest; but in the end, whether overcome by reason or simply weary of resistance, he gave in — approached me civilly enough, but with something of a sneering manner underneath — and touching his cap, ‘My lady,’ said he, ‘if that is what you are, the boat is ready.’

My reception on board the
Nemorosa
(for so the yacht was named) partook of the same mingled nature.  We were scarcely within hail of that great and elegant fabric, where she lay rolling gunwale under and churning the blue sea to snow, before the bulwarks were lined with the heads of a great crowd of seamen, black, white, and yellow; and these and the few who manned the boat began exchanging shouts in some
lingua franca
incomprehensible to me.  All eyes were directed on the passenger; and once more I saw the negroes toss up their hands to heaven, but now as if with passionate wonder and delight.

At the head of the gangway, I was received by another officer, a gentlemanly man with blond and bushy whiskers; and to him I addressed my demand to see Sir George.

‘But this is not — ’ he cried, and paused.

‘I know it,’ returned the other officer, who had brought me from the shore.  ‘But what the devil can we do?  Look at all the niggers!’

I followed his direction; and as my eye lighted upon each, the poor ignorant Africans ducked, and bowed, and threw their hands into the air, as though in the presence of a creature half divine.  Apparently the officer with the whiskers had instantly come round to the opinion of his subaltern; for he now addressed me with every signal of respect.

‘Sir George is at the island, my lady,’ said he: ‘for which, with your ladyship’s permission, I shall immediately make all sail.  The cabins are prepared.  Steward, take Lady Greville below.’

Under this new name, then, and so captivated by surprise that I could neither think nor speak, I was ushered into a spacious and airy cabin, hung about with weapons and surrounded by divans.  The steward asked for my commands; but I was by this time so wearied, bewildered, and disturbed, that I could only wave him to leave me to myself, and sink upon a pile of cushions.  Presently, by the changed motion of the ship, I knew her to be under way; my thoughts, so far from clarifying, grew the more distracted and confused; dreams began to mingle and confound them; and at length, by insensible transition, I sank into a dreamless slumber.

When I awoke, the day and night had passed, and it was once more morning.  The world on which I reopened my eyes swam strangely up and down; the jewels in the bag that lay beside me chinked together ceaselessly; the clock and the barometer wagged to and fro like pendulums; and overhead, seamen were singing out at their work, and coils of rope clattering and thumping on the deck.  Yet it was long before I had divined that I was at sea; long before I had recalled, one after another, the tragical, mysterious, and inexplicable events that had brought me where was.

When I had done so, I thrust the jewels, which I was surprised to find had been respected, into the bosom of my dress; and seeing a silver bell hard by upon a table, rang it loudly.  The steward instantly appeared; I asked for food; and he proceeded to lay the table, regarding me the while with a disquieting and pertinacious scrutiny.  To relieve myself of my embarrassment, I asked him, with as fair a show of ease as I could muster, if it were usual for yachts to carry so numerous a crew?

‘Madam,’ said he, ‘I know not who you are, nor what mad fancy has induced you to usurp a name and an appalling destiny that are not yours.  I warn you from the soul.  No sooner arrived at the island — ’

At this moment he was interrupted by the whiskered officer, who had entered unperceived behind him, and now laid a hand upon his shoulder.  The sudden pallor, the deadly and sick fear, that was imprinted on the steward’s face, formed a startling addition to his words.

‘Parker!’ said the officer, and pointed towards the door.

‘Yes, Mr. Kentish,’ said the steward.  ‘For God’s sake, Mr. Kentish!’  And vanished, with a white face, from the cabin.

Thereupon the officer bade me sit down, and began to help me, and join in the meal.  ‘I fill your ladyship’s glass,’ said he, and handed me a tumbler of neat rum.

‘Sir,’ cried I, ‘do you expect me to drink this?’

He laughed heartily.  ‘Your ladyship is so much changed,’ said he, ‘that I no longer expect any one thing more than any other.’

Immediately after, a white seaman entered the cabin, saluted both Mr. Kentish and myself, and informed the officer there was a sail in sight, which was bound to pass us very close, and that Mr. Harland was in doubt about the colours.

‘Being so near the island?’ asked Mr. Kentish.

‘That was what Mr. Harland said, sir,’ returned the sailor, with a scrape.

‘Better not, I think,’ said Mr. Kentish.  ‘My compliments to Mr. Harland; and if she seem a lively boat, give her the stars and stripes; but if she be dull, and we can easily outsail her, show John Dutchman.  That is always another word for incivility at sea; so we can disregard a hail or a flag of distress, without attracting notice.’

As soon as the sailor had gone on deck, I turned to the officer in wonder.  ‘Mr. Kentish, if that be your name,’ said I, ‘are you ashamed of your own colours?’

‘Your ladyship refers to the
Jolly Roger
?’ he inquired, with perfect gravity; and immediately after, went into peals of laughter.  ‘Pardon me,’ said he; ‘but here for the first time I recognise your ladyship’s impetuosity.’  Nor, try as I pleased, could I extract from him any explanation of this mystery, but only oily and commonplace evasion.

While we were thus occupied, the movement of the
Nemorosa
gradually became less violent; its speed at the same time diminished; and presently after, with a sullen plunge, the anchor was discharged into the sea.  Kentish immediately rose, offered his arm, and conducted me on deck; where I found we were lying in a roadstead among many low and rocky islets, hovered about by an innumerable cloud of sea-fowl.  Immediately under our board, a somewhat larger isle was green with trees, set with a few low buildings and approached by a pier of very crazy workmanship; and a little inshore of us, a smaller vessel lay at anchor.

I had scarce time to glance to the four quarters, ere a boat was lowered.  I was handed in, Kentish took place beside me, and we pulled briskly to the pier.  A crowd of villainous, armed loiterers, both black and white, looked on upon our landing; and again the word passed about among the negroes, and again I was received with prostrations and the same gesture of the flung-up hand.  By this, what with the appearance of these men, and the lawless, sea-girt spot in which I found myself, my courage began a little to decline, and clinging to the arm of Mr. Kentish, I begged him to tell me what it meant?

‘Nay, madam,’ he returned, ‘
you
know.’  And leading me smartly through the crowd, which continued to follow at a considerable distance, and at which he still kept looking back, I thought, with apprehension, he brought me to a low house that stood alone in an encumbered yard, opened the door, and begged me to enter.

‘But why?’ said I.  ‘I demand to see Sir George.’

‘Madam,’ returned Mr. Kentish, looking suddenly as black as thunder, ‘to drop all fence, I know neither who nor what you are; beyond the fact that you are not the person whose name you have assumed.  But be what you please, spy, ghost, devil, or most ill-judging jester, if you do not immediately enter that house, I will cut you to the earth.’  And even as he spoke, he threw an uneasy glance behind him at the following crowd of blacks.

I did not wait to be twice threatened; I obeyed at once, and with a palpitating heart; and the next moment, the door was locked from the outside and the key withdrawn.  The interior was long, low, and quite unfurnished, but filled, almost from end to end, with sugar-cane, tar-barrels, old tarry rope, and other incongruous and highly inflammable material; and not only was the door locked, but the solitary window barred with iron.

I was by this time so exceedingly bewildered and afraid, that I would have given years of my life to be once more the slave of Mr. Caulder.  I still stood, with my hands clasped, the image of despair, looking about me on the lumber of the room or raising my eyes to heaven; when there appeared outside the window bars, the face of a very black negro, who signed to me imperiously to draw near.  I did so, and he instantly, and with every mark of fervour, addressed me a long speech in some unknown and barbarous tongue.