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The road up to the plantation-house which had been rutted and potholed before, as a result of some other tropical storm, seemed to be practically washed away now and it was obvious that Laurent was having difficulty in getting the car through, quite apart from holding it steady. Because of the lashing rain, visibility was practically nil. It was plain that the mood of sea and land were matched now, as water surged in, lashed and swept along by the wind.

Rain and wind attacked the car so that it seemed to be lifting and wide-eyed and frightened the two girls peered through the eerie light. The whole sensation was one of bending, gyrating cane and trees. It was a raging wilderness, whipped by the howling gale and lashing rain ... another world, in fact, thought Jade, her teeth chattering. The sea which controlled the weather on the island had gone insane.

‘Thank
God for electricity,’ said Laurent. ‘Apparently the lines can’t be down.’

Jade and Marcelle stood watching him as he switched on lamps. Although she was badly frightened jade's eyes took in at a glance the beautiful lamps, exotic leaves spilling from urns and expensive ornaments in Laurent's house. There were plump sofas and chairs, upholstered in blue and white linen, and they encircled a low round and outsize coffee table. The huge carpet was Persian and the ceiling was beamed and tall candles stood in beautiful candle-holders, no doubt ready for any emergency, apart from the fact that they would be used for dining lighting.

‘So.’ He turned. ‘We made it. Don't look so frightened.’ His eyes went first to Marcelle and then to Jade. ‘The waiters,' he said, ‘had begun sticking adhesive tape across all the windows to hold flying glass when I came on the scene. Nicole was there, looking for you. She felt responsible for you and wished to take you back to her house. Then I went to Curepipe.'

‘Oh.’ Jade’s voice was small. So that was it! Nicole had suddenly become conscience-stricken and had asked Laurent to pick her up, after they had found out that she had gone to Marlow’s plantation-house, and after Laurent had made certain that Marcelle was safe. Obviously he had intended that Marcelle would take shelter in his home.

Marcelle was saying, ‘But, Laurent, why talk now? I can't stop shivering. My hair—I wish to dry it. Although I had my raincoat, my blouse is still damp.'

While Laurent helped Marcelle off with the raincoat Jade could not help noticing that the blouse in question had a sexy, lingerie look, and that the material was soft and silky and sensual. ‘You know where to go,' he was saying. ‘You’ll find towels,' he touched Marcelle's hair with his fingers. ‘Okay?’

When Marcelle had left the room he asked, ‘How wet are you?’

‘Wet enough.’ She shivered. ‘I have jeans and a shirt in my case. I was going to work at Marlow’s house, you see. I noticed that—that ...’ somehow she could not bring herself to say Marcelle, ‘Miss Fabre did not carry a case, and I was prepared—and so I also have a spare sun-frock and a caftan. She can choose what she wants.’ Ignoring her offer, he snapped, ‘What were you doing there? Demonstrating that you are practically Mrs Marlow Lewis?’

‘Yes,’ she said, feeling inflamed because Marcelle Fabre obviously meant so much to him that he had gone to Curepipe to check on her safety, immediately warning of the cyclone had been given. ‘Marlow phoned me from Reunion just before I left, as a matter of fact. We’ll be married soon.’

‘How soon?’ His strange green eyes raked her face.

‘At the moment I can’t say. I know it must have been a nuisance to you when Nicole suggested it, but thank you for bringing me here. I was terrified at Marlow’s house.’

‘Well, you will have to get used to Marlow’s house, no? After all, it has been standing long enough. What made you go there, when you saw that the weather was changing? Sometimes you seem incapable of serious thought! ’

‘I wasn’t to know there was going to be a cyclone, was I? It had been a beautiful dawn.’

Something crashed somewhere and she caught her breath, and put her hands to her face. ‘This is hideous! I don’t know how you kept the car on the road.’

‘For that matter, neither do I,’ he answered. ‘I can’t say how long we are going to be trapped here, but we might as well resign ourselves to the fact that it will be for some time. However, there is always food in this house and candles, lamps. Come.’ He took her arm. ‘This is what I refer to as my den,’ he told her. ‘It used to be a double garage, but I had another garage added which leads directly into this, as you saw for yourself... a precaution against bad weather. I do not have to leave the car in order to get into my house.’

Marcelle Fabre was in the lounge when they got there. She was crying quietly as she rubbed her dark hair, with a towel. Looking at Laurent through the towel she said, ‘I cannot even telephone my mother. The phone is not working, Laurent.’

‘That is something which cannot be helped. It goes like that. Try not to worry.’ His voice was almost gentle and Jade watched as he placed an arm about the other girl’s slim shoulders.

‘It is not easy,’ Marcelle answered. ‘I have no clothes ... nothing.’ Her eyes went to Jade’s small case.

‘I haven’t much,’ said Jade, ‘but what I have, I’m willing to share with you.’ She was thinking that Laurent’s cool, composed business manager was really going to pieces—not that she could blame her. They could hear the roar of the wind and the rain as it lashed the roof, shuttered windows and walls. ‘What it must be like at Marlow’s house, which is built of tropical wood, I shudder to think.’ She glanced at Laurent.

‘It has stood the test of time,’ he replied shortly. ‘Come,’ he said to Marcelle, 'I will give you something for your nerves and maybe you will be able to relax on top of your bed.’

It seemed obvious by the way in which he had spoken that Marcelle was a frequent visitor to his house.

Laurent came back into the room. ‘You will have my room,’ he said. ‘If you are ready, I will show you where to go.’

‘But surely....’ she began, but he cut her short.

‘But nothing. We could be here for as long as four days.’ There was always this sense of ruthlessness about him, she thought resentfully, which made him difficult to argue with.

‘I’m ready.’ She gave him a level look.

He seemed to prefer off-white, she found herself thinking, but this was possibly to show off to advantage his possessions, which were obviously rare and certainly very beautiful. The thick carpet was off-white and so were the low sofa and chairs at one end of the room, which had brilliant scatter cushions in shades of sunset colours and green. Windows and doors were shuttered, to protect the glass from the howling wind and torrential rain which was sweeping the island.

Jade caught her breath when he placed his arms about her and felt her clothes for dampness. ‘You’d better change,’ he said. ‘Come through to the lounge when you are ready and we will have something to drink, and then, seeing that my Creole couple have gone to take shelter in their own home, you will help me to prepare something to eat. Marcelle is too upset.’

She inclined her head. ‘Fine.’ Tensely she watched him as his eyes went to her mouth, then he trailed his fingers lightly beneath her chin and then down to the hollow of her throat. ‘Dry your hair. By the way, you will find my bed most comfortable.'

The radio was on when she got back to the lounge and, while Laurent poured drinks, they listened to the weather reports. Warning four stated that cyclone conditions existed over the island.

'How is Marcelle?’ she asked, in a stiff little voice.

’Marcelle is worried and upset.’ His voice was abrupt.

‘W-what about dry clothing? I’ve offered her what I have,’ she said.

‘It is quite all right.’ His voice was cool. ‘She has changed into one of my silk shirts. It is too hot for much else. She also has a splitting headache. By the time we left my shop there was no time to contact her mother. We went straight to Marlow Lewis’s house.’

‘It’s a pity Nicole involved you-—with me, I mean,' she ventured, ‘although I’m selfish enough to be grateful. I—I hated it at Marlow’s ... all this wind and rain ... and of course, it’s got worse.’

‘I was able to find out from Philippe where you were,’ he said.

‘On the way to Marlow’s,' she said, ‘there was this wind, which I’d noticed before. Broken branches were flying about in the dust—not big branches, but bits and pieces. It felt like something was wrong.’ .

‘And yet you remained at the house, instead of going back with Philipee?’ He passed her a drink and their fingers touched and, as usual, Jade felt the shock of excitement.

Turning away from him, she felt an emptiness that surely must be as bad as Marcelle’s splitting headache due to the fact that Laurent had snubbed her invitation to lend Marcelle a change of clothing.

Moodily her eyes travelled around the room. More plump sofas, covered in a woven off-white fabric and French silk sofa pillows, appearing almost gem-like in the light from the lamps. An exotic cane sofa-table stood behind one of the sofas where there were strelitzia flowers arranged in a vase. A fat candle stood on an elaborate brass candlestick. An Oriental lamp cast a glow in the room. There were side tables accommodating costly things.

‘You are looking at all the candles, maybe?’ He sounded amused. ‘For obvious reasons, I keep my house stocked with them. At any moment the power could be cut.’

Jade’s eyes went back to the outsize coffee table which held English brass antique candlesticks.

‘Your home is very beautiful,’ she said. ‘Your indoor plantings are very lush.'

‘Normally they get the light from the French doors, which are all shuttered now, as you can see.'

Often there was noise of something smashing, somewhere, or the sound of something heavy being blown away. ‘When will it ever
stop
?’ Jade cried, her nerves on snapping point.

‘It has only just started,' he told her. ‘Make up your mind to this. It is for the people who really know poverty that I feel sorry. Tin shanties are blown away. Even in the better built homes, doors are smashed in and windows sucked in and shattered. Roofs are torn off. Everything seems to go mad for a while. But it does not happen very often, so cheer up.’ He gave her a smile. ‘But while it does, crops are pressed into the ground, there are wash-aways and between the wind and torrential rain and high seas we take a smashing, despite precautions.’

At that moment Marcelle came through to the room wearing a white silk shirt which showed her long slim legs off to good advantage. ‘I am desperately in pain, Laurent.' She began to pace about, pushing long, slim fingers through her dark hair.

He got up and guided her down to the sofa, beside him, and then cradled her head against his chest. ‘You must relax,' he told her.

‘I can’t! My mother ....’ Marcelle began weeping again.

'Your mother would have shut herself in by now. God knows there are enough warnings over the radio.’

‘What can I do to help you, Marcelle?’ Jade asked. ‘Let me massage your scalp for you.'

‘There is nothing you can do.’ Laurent sounded irritable. ‘Marcelle is plagued by migraine headaches. In a moment the pills will begin to help. They always do.'

With gathering resentment Jade watched his fingers as they went up and into Marcelle’s silky hair and then suddenly he stood up and gathered her into his arms. ‘You must lie down,' he said. ‘I will make a wet cloth for your eyes.’

When he came back he poured fresh drinks for himself and jade. 'What are you thinking about?' he almost snapped.

‘I keep thinking about Marlow’s house,’ she lied.

‘Marcelle thinks of her mother. You think of Marlow’s house. Anything else?’ He put her glass down beside her. ‘Marlow’s—lovemaking, maybe?’

‘I was thinking of his cane-fields. You mentioned crops, a moment ago, being pressed into the ground.' She did not try to hide the fact that she was angry.

‘Well, you have reason to think, my dear girl.

Cyclone Carol, for instance, cut the 1960 sugar output and almost put a halt to the tea industry, I believe. I myself was here in 1970 when Cyclone Hermine caused much damage.
This
cyclone might well bring the famous hunter back—for that very reason.’

Taking a sip of her drink, Jade said, ‘What you are trying to convey, of course, is that the threat to his cane-fields might cut short his business visit to Reunion, whereas my arrival here didn’t bring about this turn of events. Is that it?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact that is exactly what I am trying to convey. This must be upsetting for you.’ He sounded anything but sympathetic.

‘It is upsetting,’ she answered hotly, ‘for the simple reason that Marlow....’ she broke off as something heavy crashed outside and then they were quiet for a moment, as they listened to the fierce squalls of wind and rain ... an awesome sound.

‘Anyway,’ Laurent went on, ‘these tropical revolving storms pass close enough to the island to bring about cyclonic winds and torrential rain on only four days a year, so you need not be unduly worried. Cyclones severe enough to cause great devastation have only occurred twelve days in ninety years.'

‘It doesn’t seem like it now,’ she commented, still feeling ruffled with him and on edge because of what was taking place on the lovely island.

‘Considering the risks,’ his green eyes met hers, ‘you still intend to remain in Mauritius?’

‘Of course. I have no option,’ she replied, without thinking.

‘What do you mean you have no option?’ He went on looking at her.

‘Well, I’ve come here to work at the health hydro and, later, to be married, after which I intend to continue with my work. As a matter of fact, Marlow is in complete agreement.’

‘You will work until you have Marlow’s baby, is that it?’ He turned that dark sea-green gaze on her again.

While something within her shrieked ... Oh no, don’t
say
that! I don’t want a baby by Marlow, she said, ‘Possibly. I don’t know.’ She lowered her lashes and began swirling the liquid around in her glass.