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Authors: Dennis Wheatley

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‘My love, there is an alternative. I have a charming house at Richmond, just outside London, and enough money to provide you with every comfort. I will ask your father's permission for us to marry.'

For a moment she considered, then she shook her head. ‘No, much as I should love to be your wife, I must say “no” to that. Brazil may be all you say it is at present; but with the Court there matters would soon improve and life become tolerable. To do as you suggest would mean that I should be permanently separated from my family, and I cannot think I would be happy living in England. I adore the sun, so the heat in Brazil would not trouble me. The cold and fogs in your
country would depress me utterly, and to spend the rest of my life with no-one but foreigners to talk to would make me miserable.'

For over an hour Roger argued with her; but she would not be persuaded so, for the time at least, he was compelled to abandon the project. So stricken was she by the threatened upheaval in her life that, for once, she was disinclined to make love; and, after their last two hectic nights, Roger felt no desire to press her. A little before two o'clock he left her and made his way back through the dark streets to Belem, then went aboard
Hibernia
to sleep in the cabin that had been allotted him.

Next morning he joined Sir Sidney and Strangford for breakfast. The Minister was in fine form, as his mission had proved in part successful. Don Joao still refused to leave for Brazil, but at least he had been persuaded to take up his residence in the flagship of the Portuguese Fleet, and that was half the battle won. For it Strangford took all the credit to himself, although Roger felt certain that it was really due to the Admiral's threat to bombard Lisbon; and Don Joao had given in only to save thousands of his subjects from being killed and having his capital destroyed.

Roger spent a miserable day mooning about the flagship, while wrestling with his problem. After having lived for so many years actively employed in the centre of great events, the thought of going into exile and living like a cabbage in disstant Brazil appalled him. Yet he was equally loath to lose Lisala. She was, he knew, entirely self-centred. Her plea that he should become a deserter in order to rejoin her in Lisbon was evidence enough of that, and now she was putting her own interests before his, without the least consideration of his future happiness. Yet she had bewitched him to such a degree that he could not bear the thought of never seeing her again. Eventually he decided that there was only one thing for it. Somehow he must kidnap her; then she would have no option but to marry him.

Late that night he went ashore and kept his usual midnight tryst with her in the garden pavilion. Again he did his utmost
to persuade her to let him ask her father for her hand, but she was adamant in her refusal. He then told her of his determination not to go to Brazil, upon which she gave way to one of her violent fits of temper, declaring that he could not be truly in love with her and did not deserve the great love she felt for him. There ensued a bitter quarrel, with tears and reproaches; but at length they made it up and, in a highly emotional state, relieved the tension by a passionate consummation on the settee, that left them both exhausted.

Next day, the 27th, the Prince Regent reluctantly kept his promise to go aboard the Portuguese flagship. Frightened that his people might endeavour to prevent him, he arrived at the dock in a plain carriage, hoping that he would not be recognised. But the scores of bales and cases containing objects of value which had recently, and were still being sent off to the ships, had alerted the populace to his probable intention. As he stepped from the carriage he was spotted. The crowd did not abuse him, but showed their distress that he should be abandoning them by sullen stares and a low moaning.

Strangford, Sir Sidney and Roger had gone ashore to witness the embarkation. It provided a distressing sight, for Don Joao's more resolute wife, who had wanted him to stay and fight, had to be picked up and forcibly dumped into the royal barge.

Simultaneously, scores of noble families were embarking; among them the de Pombals. From a distance Roger saw them taken off and rowed out to the
Nunez
, which was close inshore. Quickly he secured a boat and was rowed out after them. As he went aboard the
Nunez
he noted with satisfaction that the merchantman's gunwale was not too high out of the water for a person to be dropped overboard into a waiting boat, without risk of injury, provided his or her fall was broken by someone in the boat.

The de Pombals were still on deck, superintending the bringing aboard of some of their baggage. Roger bowed to the ladies, then said to the Marquis, ‘My lord, I am come aboard to ask if there is anything I can procure for you in the city which might make your voyage more supportable.'

De Pombal returned his bow. ‘That was good of you, Mr. Brook; but I have brought with us as many comforts as the confined space here permits finding room for. And it is not yet certain that we shall make the voyage.'

‘Of that, my lord, I am aware; so I will not yet take final leave of you. Should His Highness decide to sail, my Admiral will have several hours' notice of it; ample time for me to come across and wish you fair winds and good fortune in Brazil.'

Standing nearby, Lisala had heard what he said, and gave him a sad smile. He then spent a quarter of an hour talking to them before returning to shore.

That evening he said to Sir Sidney, ‘Admiral, I have been pursuing a private project while here in Lisbon. I am deeply in love with a Portuguese lady and wish to make her my wife. Would you have any objection to my bringing her aboard, then giving us both passage to England?'

The Admiral laughed. ‘What a fellow you are! When we were together at Acre, I recall that you were in love with a Turkish Princess. But no matter. If you have a mind to form a more permanent association with some charming Portuguese, by all means bring her to
Hibernia
, and we'll do our best to make her voyage a pleasant one.'

In the afternoon Strangford went to see the Prince Regent in his flagship. Still, the Prince refused to give his fleet sailing orders, and insisted that he must await developments. When the Minister returned, the Admiral snapped at him:

‘Bad weather is blowing up and I'll not stay to see my ships encounter it on a lee shore. Go again tomorrow and tell this cowardly oaf that, should his ships not cross the bar tomorrow, I'll blow his fleet out of the water.'

Unhappy and impatient, Roger waited next day until, Strangford returned from giving this final ultimatum to Don Joao. On the Minister's return, bursting with pride in his achievement, he said, ‘I used no threats, but by gentle words succeeded in persuading him to put his trust in us and honour the agreement he made with our Government many months ago. He has consented to sail tomorrow for Brazil.'

Hearing this, Roger decided that the time for action had come. That evening he asked Sir Sidney to let him have a boat to take him across to
Nunez
, and the Admiral placed a gig at his disposal.

When she was well away from
Hibernia
, Roger produced a small bag of gold. Clinking the coins in it, he said to the Petty Officer in charge, ‘I go to the
Nunez
to collect a Portuguese lady. But her friends may prove reluctant to let her go, so there may be trouble. Obey my orders implicitly and this gold is yours to divide between yourself and the boat's crew.'

The Petty Officer grinned, and replied, ‘Aye, aye, Sir. We'll stand by, and to hell with the Portuguese should they prove troublesome.'

On boarding the
Nunez
, Roger found a number of the gentry of both sexes strolling round the deck, taking the evening air. De Pombal was nowhere to be seen, but he soon spotted Lisala and her duenna. Directly Lisala caught sight of him, she came hurrying over with Dona Christina to the place where he was standing, beside the bulwark amidships.

Gravely Roger said, ‘I am come as I promised to wish you a pleasant voyage, and to hope that in Brazil you will find happiness.'

With equal gravity she replied, ‘That was kind of you; but it will do nothing to heal my broken heart. Will you not, at this eleventh hour, change your mind and accompany me?'

He shook his head. ‘No, dear Lisala, my mind is set. But will you not change yours and let me make a home for you in England?'

As he spoke, he moved a little sideways, so that he would be able to seize her the more easily, heave her over the low bulwark, shout to the Petty Officer below to be ready to break her fall, then drop her down into the boat.

At that moment she, too, moved, and away from the bulwark, as she said, ‘Alas, I cannot bring myself to it. But before we part, come below and we'll drink a glass of wine together, to some future love that may expunge from our minds the grief we now feel.'

For a moment Roger hesitated; then, feeling certain that she would come on deck again to see him off, agreed.

Dona Christina, hitherto knowing nothing of their passion for each other, had been staring at them with startled disapproval. As they turned away to go below, Lisala snapped at her, ‘Remain here, old woman, and keep a brace upon your tongue, or I'll claw your eyes out.'

Leaving the duenna mouth agape and petrified with fear, Roger followed Lisala down the after ladder. She led him along a passage and, pointing to two adjacent doors, said, ‘That is Papa's cabin and that is Aunt Anna's.' Turning into a narrower passage, she added, ‘They are quite roomy and I could have had a similar one next to Papa's, but I would have had to share it with my sanctimonious old duenna; so I preferred a much smaller one along here.'

Unlocking a door, she motioned him into what was no more than a slip room, measuring about seven feet by four. It had a single bunk, beneath which Lisala's trunks were stowed. Above the bunk were cupboards. From one of them she took two china mugs half full of wine. Handing him one, she smiled.

‘This was the best I could do. Knowing you intended to come aboard to bid me farewell, I purloined it from a bottle that Papa opened last night.'

Raising their mugs, they drank to each other in silence. As Roger swallowed, then lowered his mug, he asked. ‘What is this wine? I don't recognise it.'

She shrugged. ‘I have no idea. Papa could bring only the oldest wines from his cellar, so it is probably something very rare. But drink up. We dare not linger here for long, and I want to carry away a last memory of your loving me.'

Quickly they finished the wine and set aside the mugs. Lisala gave him a gentle shove and whispered, ‘Lie down on the bunk, my love. I wish to play the man and have a glorious ride on you.' Two minutes later, they were locked together. When their first ecstasy was over, she made no move to clamber off him, but insisted that they should enjoy another. Its consummation was delayed, because Roger was feeling an unusual weakness in his limbs. When he did at length achieve it, she still did
not get up, but lay, her mouth glued to his, kissing him fiercely.

Several more minutes passed before she withdrew her arms from round his neck, rolled off the bunk and quickly adjusted her lower garments.

He made to rise, but was seized with giddiness. With a sudden laugh, she slipped out of the cabin. Calling to her in a husky voice, he managed to throw his legs over the side of the bunk. Then he heard the key turn in the lock.

Staggering to his feet, he lurched towards the door, stumbled, fell against it, managed to reel back to the bunk and collapsed. Two minutes later he was out cold.

When he came to, it was pitch dark. He had a splitting headache and a frightful taste in his mouth. For some moments he could not imagine where he was. Then the motion of the ship ploughing through the waves told him that he was at sea. Memory flooded back. With bitter fury he realised that Lisala had got the better of him. He was on his way to Brazil.

18
The Ghastly Journey

On realising what had happened to him, Roger's rage knew no bounds. That a man such as himself, who had few equals in experience of plots and the taking of subtle measures to achieve his secret ends, should have been tricked and kidnapped by a girl was a terrible blow to his
amour propre
. Yet, after a while, his resentment on that head was slightly lessened by his sense of humour, causing him to see the funny side of it.

There remained the fact that he was being carried off to Brazil; and that was no laughing matter. For some minutes he wondered whether he could still evade such an unwelcome prospect. British warships would, he felt certain, be escorting the Portuguese flotilla for at least the first part of the voyage and, if he could succeed in geting himself transferred to one of them, he would escape making this most undesirable journey. But this was a Portuguese ship. She must now be well out at sea and, the weather being roughish, it seemed very improbable that any boat's crew would agree to take the risk of transferring him from the
Nunez
to a British frigate.

Jumping up from the bunk, he beat hard with his fists on the cabin door, hoping to attract attention. But the groaning timbers of the ship partially muffled his hammering and, apparently, no-one heard it. Hunger now added to his unhappy state and further hours dragged by while he still sat, in increasing misery, a prisoner on the edge of the bunk.

It was not until six o'clock that the door was unlocked and Lisala stood framed in it. Looking anxiously at him, she enquired, ‘Are you greatly enraged at my having carried you off?'

Roger had long since learned that there were times when it paid to show anger, and others when it could do only harm.
In the present instance no display of the fury he was feeling would get him back on shore and, since he was now condemned to a long sea voyage, quarrelling with Lisala could make it even more uncongenial. Restraining himself, he replied with a wry grimace, ‘Knowing my feelings about going to Brazil it was a scurvy trick to have kidnapped me in this way. But since it is further evidence of your love for me, how can I not forgive you?'

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