Having listened to Gregory’s alarming report, James said that he had heard much the same from Aleamotu’a, and had sent a message to Commandant Elbœuf, asking him to come to the bure that evening, so that they could learn what steps he was taking to prevent illegal salvaging from the wreck.
By then, Manon, rejoicing in her wifely status, had unpacked for both Gregory and herself, and came jauntily into the main bure, provocatively clad only in a bikini. With her was Olinda, who, at James’ suggestion, had brought ashore a vanity case and swimsuit and had changed at the same time. On their appearance, Gregory and James temporarily shelved the problem of how to deal with Lacost and ten minutes later joined the girls at the pool, where the four of them spent a most enjoyable hour.
Afterwards, when they were sitting with their drinks, Gregory said to James, These rumours we have heard give a rough picture of how things are going, but we must try to secure really accurate information. Above all, it is important for us to know when Lacost expects to be through with the job and make off with the loot. The only way I can think of to do that is to get hold of Hamie Baker. He is now living with the others in the Pigalle. For you or me to go out to her would almost certainly result in a showdown, and we daren’t risk that in a place where the odds would be so heavily against us. But it is very unlikely that they would do Aleamotu’a any harm if we sent him out with a message; so would you agree to his acting for us?’
‘By all means,’ James replied. ‘He wouldn’t have to go aboard the Pigalle, only hand a letter up for Hamie, and I’m sure he would be willing to do that.’
Accordingly, Gregory wrote a note for Hamie, in which he said that, on arriving back in Tujoa, he had found a letter from Hamie’s boss, Mr. Trollope, which contained certain instructions that were to be passed on to him; so would he come ashore to receive them. Soon after five o’clock he set off in the jeep with the handsome Aleamotu’a, up through the mountain pass, past the great waterfall and down to the bay on the far side of the island in which the wreck of the Reina Maria Amalia lay.
They parked the jeep behind a screen of banana palms and, while Gregory waited there, Aleamotu’a walked on to the beach and had himself paddled out to the Pigalle in one of the boats used by the natives to peddle their wares to the Colons.
Three-quarters of an hour later he returned with Hamie Baker. Gregory greeted the diver with a frown and said abruptly, ‘Well, Hamie. As the other party got in first, it seems that, instead of waiting for me, you decided to lend them a hand.’
Hamie gave a sullen nod. ‘That’s so, baas. I got fed up sitting on my arse doing nothing all them weeks, and me an’ Phil Macauta had become good buddies. Anyways, your contract wi’ Mr. Trollope had run out and I’d heard nothing from either of you, so I didn’t see why I shouldn’t earn a bit o’ extra money.’
‘I gave you some extra money before I left here,’ Gregory remarked, ‘but we’ll say no more about that. I’ve had you brought ashore to let you know that Mr. Trollope’s orders are that you are to co-operate with me, otherwise you’ll be out on your ear when you get back to Fiji. To that I should add that I am ready to make it very well worth your while if you do as I wish.’
At that Hamie brightened a little and said, ‘I didn’t mean no harm, an’ I’ve no wish to quarrel wi’ Mr. Trollope or yerself. What is it you want o’ me?’
‘For the moment only information. How have things been going out there?’
‘We’ve done fine, baas. Got the big beam away much quicker than expected, an’ yesterday started gettin’ up the stuff. My! Yer eyes would pop at some o’ the things we brought up. Crosses and cups wi’ precious stones as big as ‘aricot beans stuck in ’em, an’ lumps of gold coins all bent and fused together as though they’d been half melted in a fire. But come evening we got a nasty jolt—a real nasty one.’
‘In what way?’ asked Gregory.
‘Big part of the deck caved in, jus’ as we was about to knock off for the night. Couple of native boys trapped down there, poor sods; an’ half the hull full of debris. Mr. Lacost had hoped to be through by termorrer night, an’ he fairly blew his top. There’s lots more of the stuff still down there and buried deep. He’s kep’ us hard at it all day, clearing a way down.’
‘How long do you reckon it will be before you reach it?’
‘It’s difficult to say. We—Phil an’ I working alone, it ‘ud take us at least a week. But it’s on this sort of job the native boys come in handy. Reckon we’ll be down to the stuff again in another twenty-four hours.’
‘Very well, then,’ Gregory nodded. ‘Now I’ll make the position clear to you. These Frenchmen hold no licence to salvage the treasure. They are, therefore, committing what amounts to an act of piracy. I don’t doubt that Lacost has offered you a pretty big sum for your help, but if you take it that will be regarded as accepting part of the swag, and you will be liable to be sent to prison. Unless you want to risk that, as soon as they do get down to the treasure again you will pretend to be stricken with sudden illness, or think up some other means of having yourself put ashore, and come at once to the Ratu’s bure and let me know. Then you will be in the clear.’
Hamie shifted his feet uneasily, looked down at them and muttered, ‘That’s all very well, baas; but Mr. Lacost is treating me very decent. Thirty pound a day he’s promised me, an’ a whackin’ good bonus when the job’s finished.’
Gregory gave a laugh that had no humour in it. ‘If you are counting on that, you don’t know the man you are dealing with. He is a crook and a murderer. When he has no more use for you the odds are that, rather than cash out, he’ll cut your air-pipe on your last dive and leave you to feed the fishes. I need to have twelve hours’ warning before the Pigalle is likely to sail. Bring it to me and you will not only be out of trouble but I’ll pay you two hundred pounds.’
Obviously shaken by the picture Gregory had drawn of Lacost, Hamie cleared his throat, spat and said, ‘O.K., baas. Anyways, I know yer on the level. I’ll get ashore somehow an’ give you the tip-off.’
Back at the Royal bure, Gregory found James and Olinda drinking rum-on-the-rocks. James had just finished showing her over her future home and, delighted with it, she was enthusing over its suitability to such a climate and its beautiful vistas. Gregory told them about his arrangement with Hamie Baker, then asked if Commandant Elbœuf had yet put in an appearance.
‘He sent to say that he would come here after dinner,’ James replied, then added with a laugh, ‘I don’t doubt the old boy picked his time so that he could get a good swig at my old brandy.’
As the dinner hour was approaching, Gregory knocked back the drink James had poured for him and went across to the twin-bedded bure that had been assigned to him and Manon. She was seated at the dressing table, putting the last touches to her hair, and, as he kissed her on the nape of the neck, he was struck by the warm domesticity of the scene. To go to bed with a woman was one thing, to live with her quite another, and, although the room was not her own, her possessions scattered about it gave it a delightful intimate atmosphere.
When he had shaved in the bathroom that had been built on to the bure they rejoined the others and afterwards sat down to dinner. As the Resident was expected, they did not linger over the meal, but moved to the other end of the long room for their coffee and liqueurs.
They had hardly settled themselves there when Elbœuf was announced. Limping forward with his stick, he gallantly kissed the hands of the ladies, condoled with Olinda on her husband’s death, then accepted a large ration of old brandy. Contrary to South Seas custom, James got down to business right away, and asked him what steps he had taken to prevent the Colons from attempting to salvage the treasure in the wreck.
Raising his grey eyebrows, the old man replied, ‘None, my dear Ratu, and I have had no reason to suppose that any such steps should be taken. Monsieur Lacost arrived here on Friday last, and that evening he paid a courtesy call upon me. He told me of Senhor Mauá de Carvalho’s most regrettable demise, that Madame here now held the licence to salvage from the wreck, that she would be arriving in Revika shortly and had asked him, in the meantime, to go ahead with the work on her behalf. When he and the de Carvalhos were in Revika some weeks ago, de Carvalho showed me the licence he had secured in Noumea and told me that he had entered into a partnership with Lacost. So I naturally accepted Lacost’s account of matters, and have not attempted to interfere with his operations.’
‘Then, Commandant, I must acquaint you with the true situation,’ said James. ‘There was no legal partnership entered into between de Carvalho and Lacost. The Senhora intends to make the licence over to me. Lacost is a crook and his salvaging operations are illegal. They must be stopped at once.’
‘Dear me! Dear me!’ Elbœuf exclaimed with a sudden show of agitation. ‘While I am happy for you, Ratu, that you should have met with such good fortune, the situation now created may result in much unpleasantness. First thing tomorrow morning I will send Sergeant Marceau off with a couple of his gendarmes to the Pigalle to tell Lacost that he must desist from further salvaging and hand over any valuables that he may have already recovered. But what if he refuses?’
‘He will,’ Gregory put in. ‘I am sure of that. So you will have to back up your order by a show of force.’
The elderly Frenchman sighed. ‘I fear you are right, Monsieur. It seems that a situation has now arisen similar to one we envisaged some time ago. You will remember, Ratu, that I called upon you to enquire if I might count on your bodyguard to support my few gendarmes in the event of an illegal attempt being made to salvage any treasure in the Maria Amalia.’
‘I do,’ James smiled. ‘And I don’t mind admitting now that I was secretly amused, because your request implied my using force against myself. I have always maintained that this treasure is mine by right of inheritance, and I was quite prepared to defy your government on those grounds. But now, thanks to the Senhora, my position is fully legalised and I will give you all the support of which I am capable to prevent Lacost robbing me of my property.’
Elbœuf nodded. Then, Ratu, my duty and your interests are now one. But I understand that the Colons are armed, and I am most averse to provoking a conflict. So I think it best first to send off Sergeant Marceau, as I suggested, and only concert stronger measures should they refuse to obey the order he will convey to them.’
That having been settled, the old Resident began to talk of other matters, and would have stayed there until midnight, happily imbibing brandy, had not James, soon after ten o’clock, said that he must escort Olinda back to her yacht.
When they had gone, Manon did her best to persuade Gregory to come to bed; but, as he was anxious to talk to James about the morrow, he resisted her blandishments. In vain she pointed out that James might take hours in saying good night to Olinda on the yacht, but Gregory insisted that, however late James got back, he must see him again before morning; so, after a last drink, she went off in a huff to their bure.
Having settled down with a book, in anticipation of a lengthy vigil, Gregory was agreeably surprised when James returned after an absence of only three-quarters of an hour. Throwing the book aside, Gregory said:
‘About tomorrow. Lacost will tell Sergeant Marceau to take a running jump at himself and we’ve no time to lose; so we’ve got to be prepared for the next act. D’you think old Elbœuf will agree to order his gendarmes to arrest Lacost and Co.?’
James nodded, ‘I think he will, provided they have the backing of my body-guard.’
‘Yes. But how much confidence have you in your chaps? Do you really think they will go in and fight? That is what has been worrying me.’
‘It would have worried me, too, had the question arisen this time last week,’ James replied with a smile. ‘But not now. This afternoon I sent word to my Council of Elders that I intend to do a fire-walk. When they have seen me do that, my people will follow me anywhere. It was so that I could be up early in the morning, to supervise the making of the pit, that I denied myself the pleasure of a prolonged good night to Olinda, and left her as soon as I had seen her aboard the yacht.’
‘Well done,’ Gregory smiled back. ‘I’m proud of you, James. We’ll get the better of that gang of thugs yet.’
‘Thank you. It is going to be a close call, though, because I’ll have to spend twenty-four hours preparing myself to go down into the pit, and I can’t start my vigil until I’ve seen the pit made. While the work is being carried out tomorrow morning, I intend to write two letters: one giving authority over my people to Aleamotu’a while I am out of action, and the other nominating you as my representative with the Resident. So that, if Lacost refuses to comply with the old boy’s orders, as it’s pretty certain that he will, you can exert pressure on Elbœuf to call on the authorities in Noumea to send him support.’
Gregory agreed these to be sound measures, and it warmed his heart to find again how, now that the young Ratu was back in his own island, he readily took decisions and assumed the leadership.
When they had wished each other an affectionate good night Gregory went to his bure, to find Manon sitting up in bed waiting for him, in anticipation of a night of connubial bliss. But in that she was to be disappointed. Firmly, Gregory told her that the next day might, prove an unusually hectic one, so he meant to get all the sleep he could; but, kissing her fondly, he consoled her by saying that he had good hopes that the future held for them many happy nights together.
In the morning they walked down the lovely, flower-filled slope of garden to the Meeting House. Outside it, James was directing the preparations for his fire-walk. One gang of natives had already nearly completed the digging of a deep pit some twenty feet in diameter; another, under Aleamotu’a, was bringing up from the beach a number of carefully-selected large, smooth stones, and a third had been sent to collect the best type of logs for heating them.
James gave Gregory the letter for Elbœuf, and said he had given Aleamotu’a orders that the fire should be lit at seven o’clock the next morning. He added that he had told Olinda of his intentions before leaving her the previous night. Naturally, she was greatly concerned for him and had said she would prefer to spend the day on the yacht. He meant to ask Manon to go off and keep her company, to which he felt sure ‘Mrs. Sallust’ would readily agree.
As the news of the Ratu’s intention had soon spread, it had created great excitement among his people. Most of the Elders and a considerable crowd had collected to watch the preparations in awed silence. The usual Ceremony of Welcome on his return to the island should have been held that day, but the Elders had accepted the reason for its postponement and were planning a great meke for the following night.
By eleven o’clock, the work on the pit was completed and, escorted by a large, silent crowd, James returned up the hill to start his twenty-four-hour vigil. Gregory then took Manon off to the yacht, where they found that Olinda had passed a sleepless night and was making herself ill with worry that, although James had done the fire-walk successfully on Beqa, here he might fail and become, instead of a paladin, the laughing stock of his people.
Gregory, too, was secretly harassed by that fear; but he strove to reassure her and could honestly report that James showed no trace of fear himself. On the contrary, he appeared perfectly calm and confident. Olinda being in such poor shape, Gregory would have liked to remain with her throughout the day, but it was essential that he should learn the result of the warning that had been given to Lacost; so, at midday, he went ashore again, leaving Manon to do her best to distract Olinda’s mind from James’ coming ordeal.
From the harbour, Gregory drove out in James’ jeep to the Residence, a large French-style Colonial villa built back in the nineties, and lying some way outside the town. On the broad veranda he found Elbœuf enjoying his morning Amoer Picon, and presented James’ letter to him. The old Resident welcomed him courteously, sent a boy to make a Planter’s Punch which, when offered a drink, Gregory said he would prefer, then said:
‘It take it you have already heard from Sergeant Marceau that his mission proved unsuccessful?’
‘No,’ Gregory replied. ‘If you sent him up to the bure, I missed him, as I left it over two hours ago. But I’m not surprised. What happened?’
‘He went out to the Pigalle with two of his men about nine o’clock. Lacost would not even let them go aboard and flatly refused to abandon his operations.’
‘Then we shall have to resort to force. As the law is on our side, I assume that, backed by the Ratu’s body-guard, you are willing to order your gendarmes to board the Pigalle?’
The old man hesitated for a moment, then he said, ‘I suppose we now have no alternative, but I am far from happy at having to give such an order. After all, the Colons have weapons and they are desperate men. There are six of them with, in addition, a native crew; and they will have the advantage of being able to fire on my people from the cover provided by their yacht; whereas Marceau has only six men, and they would have to attack in open boats.’
Gregory nodded. ‘I appreciate the danger they will run, but they will have the support of about fifty warriors, so the Colons are bound to realise that they will be overcome by weight of numbers. The odds are that after a few shots have been exchanged they will surrender.’
‘Theoretically, Monsieur, your argument is sound. But I have little faith in the courage of the Ratu’s men. They are not warriors in the true sense. Unlike their forbears they have never taken part in tribal wars, and are untrained. Even a few shots might scare them into turning tail and abandoning my men.’
‘That might well have been the case yesterday,’ Gregory replied, ‘but I have good reason to believe that tomorrow they will show a different mettle.’ He then told the Commandant about the fire-walk that James intended to undertake, and of his conviction that it would bring out in his men the fanatical devotion and courage that they had inherited from their ancestors.
After expressing astonishment at the Ratu’s daring, Elbœuf said, ‘Personally, I am an agnostic, so have no belief in occult powers. It is, of course, true that Draunikau is still widely practised in the islands and that if a native believes that the curse of death has been put upon him he will pine away and die. I have known many such cases; but that is attributable to self-hypnosis. The tales one hears of dead men being raised from their graves and imbued with new life as zombies, of fakirs lying on beds of nails without becoming scarred, walking through fire, yet remaining unburned, and so on, fall into a very different category. All of them are based on clever trickery, and I have no doubt that the islanders of Beqa long ago devised some means of deceiving onlookers. If they passed their secret on to the Ratu he may succeed in fooling his people. Otherwise, I fear he will be bitterly disillusioned and suffer a grave humiliation.’
Gregory, too, on considering the matter again that morning, had been subject to serious misgivings. He did not, for one moment, doubt that James had performed the fire-walk on Beqa, but he could not help wondering if he had been able to accomplish it only because the Chief had either hypnotised him into a deep trance in which he would not be conscious of pain or, unknown to him put some powerful drug into the last meal he had had before beginning his fast. Were that so, without such aid he must fail, which would have a most disastrous effect both on his own mentality and his prestige with his people. But to have raised such questions with James could only have undermined his confidence in himself so, the die having been cast, Gregory had decided that he must now let matters take their course, and he countered Elbœuf’s scepticism by asserting that ‘faith could move mountains’.
When he had finished his drink the Commandant pressed him to stay on to lunch. As he now had twenty-four hours to fill, he gladly accepted. Having spent most of his life in the South Seas, the old man was a mine of information about the natives and their customs, and his cook produced a Lobster Americaine, followed by a rum omelette that could not have been bettered outside France; so for a very pleasant couple of hours Gregory was able from time to time to put out of his mind his anxiety about James.
On returning to the Royal bure, he found that Aleamotu’a had mustered the body-guard and was endeavouring to instil a war-like spirit into it. They were a fine-looking collection of men, with muscular bodies, holding themselves very upright and, including their great puffs of crinkly, black hair, averaging not less than six foot three in height; but their weapons left much to be desired. Only eight of them were armed with comparatively modern repeating rifles; the rest had shotguns, and a few only ancient muzzle-loading muskets. Nevertheless, laughing and chattering, they were entering into the spirit of the game like happy children.
After two hours napping on his bed in the bure still faintly redolent of Manon’s seductive scent, Gregory went down to the harbour; for it had occurred to him that, with James in seclusion, it was very probable that no arrangements had yet been made for the body-guard to carry out a sea-borne attack on the Pigalle.
At the small police station he introduced himself to Sergeant Marceau, whom he found to be a paunchy little man with a ruddy face, close-cropped hair and an indolent manner—the last, no doubt, having been acquired during years spent; in a tropical backwater where there was little serious crime to occupy him.
Having given Gregory a personal account of his abortive mission that morning, the Sergeant went on to say that he hoped his master, the Resident, would not order an attack on the Pigalle, as he had only six men and no faith at all in the native auxiliaries who were to support them. However, it transpired that his small arsenal was considerably larger than Gregory had expected. It contained one heavy machine gun, four Sten guns, a rifle and pistol for each man, and several dozen hand-grenades and tear-gas bombs.
Much comforted by this, Gregory suggested that the gendarmes should go armed with the machine weapons, and grenades, and loan the surplus rifles to members of the Ratu’s body-guard. Marceau proved most reluctant to hand over any of his weapons to the natives, but finally agreed that to get the best value out of them it would be wise to do so.
For transport he could provide only one motor launch which was used for occasional anti-smuggling patrols. He added that the Ratu owned several large war canoes, but they were chocked up in boathouses and it was so long since they had been used that it was certain they would prove unsea-worthy. Brushing aside the idea of canoes, Gregory declared that they must commandeer other motor craft, of which there were several in the harbour. To that Marceau agreed and they left the office together, the Sergeant to make the necessary arrangements and Gregory, feeling that there was no more he could do, to go off in James’ speed boat to the Boa Viagem.
Down in the saloon, he found that Manon had inveigled Olinda into playing a game of six-pack bezique, but on Gregory’s appearance she impatiently pushed the cards aside and enquired anxiously for news. He could tell her only that Lacost had defied the police and that, since a little before midday, James had gone into seclusion.
By then it was time for a drink, and Gregory decided that the kindest thing he could do for Olinda would be to get her good and high, so that she would, at all events, sleep a good part of the night.
Going to the bar, he compounded a killer cocktail, putting into each of three large goblets good measures of cordial Médoc, green Chartreuse and brandy, then filling them up with champagne. As the wine disguised the strength of the spirits with which it had been loaded, both the girls enjoyed the drink without suspecting its potency, and happily accepted a second ration. To Olinda he gave the mixture as before, but did no more than flavour the champagne for Manon and himself. Manon, meanwhile, had switched on the record player and Olinda had become perceptibly more cheerful. Shortly before dinner was due, Captain Amedo came in to enquire if there was anything he could do for her and she invited him to make a fourth.
During the meal Gregory kept the champagne going, and to outward appearances it was a merry party; but the others were aware that Olinda was only putting a brave face on things and was all the while worrying herself into a fever about what might happen to James next day. She stuck it out until the pudding, a Zabaglione, was served. Then she suddenly burst into tears and hurriedly got up from the table.
Manon rose, too, but she was on the opposite side of the table and Gregory caught her arm while Captain Amedo took Olinda’s and supported her out of the dining cabin. As they moved towards the door, Gregory snatched up a couple of dry biscuits from the cheese tray, thrust them into Manon’s hand and said in a swift whisper:
‘Now go after her. I don’t want her to be sick, so you must prevent her from lying down. Sit her in a chair and make her nibble these while you get behind her and massage her temples with eau-de-Cologne. Talk to her soothingly and tell her we’ll stay on board tonight, in case she needs us. When she has quietened down, undo her hair and keep brushing it until she becomes drowsy. The odds are she’ll have some aspirins in her cabin. If so, give her a couple, then get her to bed.’
With a half-humorous grimace, Manon replied, ‘You would make a good psychologist, but are a lousy husband. Drink and tears are just what the poor dear needed, though, and between us, with luck, we’ll get her off for a good night’s sleep.’
When Amedo rejoined Gregory they told the steward to clear the table and helped themselves to liqueur brandies. The Captain had heard enough of what was happening on shore to be aware of the reason for Olinda’s collapse, but he knew nothing about the projected attack on the Pigalle; so Gregory told him what was being planned, then went on:
‘Those Colons are real toughs, so it’s certain that they will put up a fight and it is going to be a very nasty business. I would gladly have the help of yourself and your crew, but it would not be right to ask it. This is a private quarrel, and there would be no justification for risking you or any of them being killed or wounded. But there is one way in which you could help us.’
Amedo gave a courteous little bow, ‘You are correct, Señhor, in that I have no right to expose my men to danger in such an affair, but, that apart, be pleased to express your wishes.’
‘It is a matter of arms,’ Gregory replied. ‘Unfortunately, very few of the Ratu’s body-guard have modern weapons, so they will be at a great disadvantage against the Colons. In a yacht such as this it is usual to carry a few firearms against emergencies and, if that is the case with you, I should be most grateful if I might have the loan of them.’
‘We have two rifles, four sporting guns and, including my own, three pistols. Provided the Señhora gives her permission, I should be happy to place them at your disposal.’
‘Thank you, Captain. I’m sure the Señhora will agree, and that will enable me to equip much more satisfactorily several of the Ratu’s men who have only muzzle-loading muskets.’ After a moment Gregory added with a smile, ‘As they have never handled repeaters, we must hope there won’t be any accidents, but that is my responsibility.’
For three-quarters of an hour they talked very amicably, then Captain Amedo excused himself and went off to his quarters. Shortly afterwards Manon came in, smiled at Gregory and said, ‘Olinda wasn’t sick and I managed to calm her down. I found her aspirin, too, and gave her a couple. Soon after, she dropped off and she is now sleeping soundly; so as a doctor you are to be congratulated.’
Giving a laugh, he stood up, crushed her to him in a tight embrace that almost drove the breath out of her body, and said, ‘Well done, my sweet. And although a cabin won’t be quite as cosy as our bure, I’ll show you that I can also be a competent husband.’
Gasping, she laughed back. ‘Having made me half-tight, you’d better, or I’ll go along and seduce the handsome Captain.’ Then her full lips melted on his in a long kiss.
In the morning, soon after half past ten, Olinda joined them in the saloon, pale but calm and, to their surprise, dressed entirely in white, with her dark hair falling to her shoulders. Seeing their expressions, she gave a faint smile, and said:
‘I didn’t meant to go ashore, but I have changed my mind. I know James was against our seeing him do his fire-walk at Beqa, but this is different. Hundreds of people will be watching and I’ve decided that I ought to be present. If he succeeds, that will be wonderful. But if he fails, at least I shall be there to comfort him, and I’ll make it known to all his people that I mean to marry him.’
Realising that for her to watch James undergoing his ordeal would mean almost as severe a one for her, Gregory and Manon both praised her courage; but she waved aside their compliments and led the way on deck. The launch was brought alongside and, after a word with her Captain, Amedo had the weapons and ammunition he had collected put into it. By eleven o’clock they were landed on the harbour. James’ jeep was still there where Gregory had parked it. The arms were loaded into it, then he drove the two girls up through the town to the Meeting House.
As was to be expected, the whole town had turned out to witness the fire-walk. The sloping hillside was black with people, only an area round the pit being kept clear by Sergeant Marceau and his gendarmes. Near it were grouped the Council of the Elders. With them was Commandant Elbœuf, and, standing a little apart, the sinister figure of Roboumo. The Elders solemnly welcomed Gregory and his party and brought out chairs for them to sit on.
Aleamotu’a was in charge of the proceedings. From time to time he glanced at his wrist watch and, as they sat watching him, the time of waiting seemed interminable. At last, he gave a signal. A score of men then ran forward and, giving excited cries, began with long, wire hawsers to drag the smouldering logs out of the pit. It took nearly a quarter of an hour before they had cleared the crater down to its level of large rounded stones, and another ten minutes before they had finished prodding the stones with poles until Aleamotu’a was satisfied that no rough corners upon which his Ratu might trip were left protruding. He then took a cardboard carton from a nearby man, who had been holding it ready for him, and hurled it into the centre of the pit. Within seconds it burst into flame and in less than a minute was reduced to ashes. A gasp of awe ran through the watching multitude.
There followed several minutes of appalling strain, then faintly there came up to them the tinny chime of the clock in the tower of the little church down on the harbour, striking midday. Suddenly, all heads were turned towards the garden sloping up to the Royal bure, and a great sigh went up from the huge crowd. Walking slowly and very erect, James, alone and unattended, was advancing down the slope.
An utter silence fell as everyone, from the Resident to the humblest present, stared at him with fascinated expectancy. When he was within fifty feet of the pit, Olinda stood up, walked forward to the edge of the pit opposite him and held out her arms.
Instantly it flashed on Gregory why she had decided to come ashore. James had said that when he did his fire-walk on Beqa he had had a vision of her on the far side of the pit. Now she was bringing that vision to life. Clad all in white, like an angel come to earth, she stood there, her arms extended and her eyes fixed on his, willing him to come to her.
Without a second’s hesitation he stepped down into the pit, walked with quick, firm steps across the twenty feet of stones, came up on the far side and took her in his arms.
The shout of applause that went up was ear-splitting. For minutes on end the crowd cheered itself hoarse. As though at a given signal, James’ subjects threw themselves on their knees and bowed their heads to the ground. Coming to their feet again, they swarmed towards him, hoping to touch his sacred person. Only with the greatest difficulty did the gendarmes and Elders fend them off and get James and Olinda into the Meeting House.
They had to remain there for half an hour before order was restored. Meanwhile, James told the Elders that after his ordeal he needed complete rest, so the yaggona ceremony they had planned and a great meke for that evening must be postponed until the following day.
It was two o’clock before James and his party, accompanied by the Commandant, Sergeant Marceau and Aleamotu’a, at last got back to the bure. There luncheon had been prepared and, having fasted for twenty-four hours, James ate heartily, but when he learned what had been taking place during his seclusion his exuberant happiness became overshadowed by the thought that if the treasure was to be saved they now had no alternative but to attack the Pigalle.
After his fire-walk there was no longer any doubt that his body-guard would wholeheartedly support the gendarmes and, that being so, Elbœuf showed no further qualms about ordering in his men. But it seemed certain that there would be casualties and James was loath to risk the lives of his people. However, when Gregory told him how, owing to Sergeant Marceau and Captain Amedo, the majority of them were now equipped with modern weapons and that motor boats had been commandeered to give them swiftness of manœuvre, he agreed that the attempt to capture the Pigalle must be made. The question that remained was—when?
Gregory at once said that if casualties were to be minimised, surprise was essential; so the best hour would be about three o’clock in the morning. But the Commandant would not hear of that. He maintained that, although the Colons were breaking the law, to launch an armed attack upon them without warning would make all who were concerned in it, above all himself, as the principal authority responsible, subject to prison sentences. Hostilities were permissible only if the Colons had been called on to surrender, refused and then offered armed resistance.
James and Aleamotu’a backed up Gregory; but Elbœuf and Sergeant Marceau insisted that unless the law was strictly observed they would all land themselves in very serious trouble. The argument had been raging for a quarter of an hour when the head houseboy, Kalabo, came in to say that there was a man outside asking urgently for Gregory.
On going outside, he found it to be Hamie Baker. The diver reported that, with the help of the natives, they had cleared the fallen debris in the wreck sooner than had been expected and had again got down to the treasure. To keep his pact with Gregory, he had slipped overboard during the break for the midday meal, and had swum ashore.
Asked how long he thought it would take to get up the rest of the treasure, he replied, ‘Can’t say, baas. Depends how much of it there is. Might be another couple of days, but maybe they’ll be through by tonight.’
This alarming news created a new situation. Having renewed his promise to pay Hamie two hundred pounds, Gregory handed him over to Kalabo, to be given food and drink, then hurried in to report the tidings he had just received.
On consideration, he thought it most unlikely that the Pigalle would sail before morning, so he was still in favour of a surprise attack in the middle of the night, but the chance that she would make off before then could not be ignored. The weight of opinion now went against him, so he had to agree that the showdown should take place that evening.
The Sergeant left to muster his gendarmes and Aleamotu’a to mobilise the body-guard. Elbœuf stayed for another brandy, then drove off in his ancient car. By then it was half past three, and they had agreed to rendezvous down at the harbour at five o’clock, so Gregory, true to form when about to face trouble, decided to take an hour’s siesta. Manon tried for a while to think of a way in which she could warn Lacost of the pending attack, but gave it up as hopeless and went out to sit by the pool. James, still transported with delight at the success of his fire-walk and the way in which Olinda had aided him, took her to his bure, where she willingly submitted to his passionate embraces.
A little before five, the two girls, now fearful that their men might be killed or wounded, sadly kissed them good-bye and watched them set off for the harbour. Everything there was in readiness. Altogether, with the gendarmes and body-guard, the contingent now numbered some sixty men, and the flotilla to carry them consisted of eight motor boats. In case the one carrying the leaders should come to grief, it was decided that James should go in his own launch, Gregory in the Boa Viagem’s speed boat and Sergeant Marceau and Aleamotu’a in others. The gendarmes were also separated, so that each could show an example to a boat carrying members of the body-guard. Old Elbœuf, excusing himself on account of his age and infirmity, contented himself with wishing them good luck and waving them away.
Adjusting their speeds to keep in convoy, the flotilla made its way round the point, through the channel which separated Roboumo’s island from the mainland, and so to the bay in which the wreck of the Maria Amalia lay. As they approached the Pigalle, they saw that great activity was taking place about her. Fuzzy-headed natives were diving from her every few minutes, then bobbing up again clutching unidentifiable objects and two men in the stern were working hard at a hand pump, which was obviously feeding air down to Lacost’s professional diver, Philip Macauta.
Then there came a sudden change in these activities. There were shouted orders, the native divers scrambled back on board. Macauta’s big, round helmet glinted in the evening sunlight as he surfaced and climbed a ladder on to the deck. In a matter of minutes everyone in the Pigalle had taken cover, with the one exception of Pierre Lacost, who remained standing on the bridge.
As the official leader of the expedition, Sergeant Marceau’s launch was some way ahead of the others. When it was within a hundred yards of the Pigalle he stood up in the stern, put a megaphone to his mouth and shouted:
‘Ahoy there, Monsieur Lacost. You are committing an illegal act. In the name of the Republic I summon you to weigh anchor and accompany us back to harbour.’
For a second Gregory held his breath, as he waited to hear what the response would be. It came almost immediately. Lacost gave a shout and darted back into the bridge cabin. Then there was a spurt of flame from the stern of the Pigalle, followed by the crack of a rifle. Sergeant Marceau’s kepi seemed to jump from his head, he staggered, then jack-knifed and crouched among the other men in his boat.
This opening episode was immediately followed by a ragged fusillade from all the boats of the flotilla, but the attackers were handicapped by being unable to see the men aboard the Pigalle. Splinters flew from woodwork here and there, the glass of the deckhouse windows was smashed and tinkled as it fell, but no cry or scream proclaimed a hit.
‘We’ll have to board,’ Gregory shouted to the motorman in his boat. ‘Get going, full speed ahead now.’ But next moment a machine gun opened on them. The gendarme beside him was shot through the chest, and one of the bodyguard screeched as a bullet seared his arm.
Everyone in the flotilla was firing now and bullets by the score were thudding into the hull of the Pigalle. Within a minute a second machine gun had opened up from her. It raked one boat, killing or wounding the majority of the crew. Then it was turned on another, hit it in a dozen places below the water-line and it swiftly began to sink. The first machine gun blazed off again at Sergeant Marceau’s boat. This time he was not so lucky. A bullet caught him in the shoulder, spun him round, and he fell overboard, while half his crew were massacred.
By then all the other boats had shut off their engines, none daring to approach nearer, but their occupants continued to pepper the Pigalle uselessly with bullets.
Gregory, seething with rage at this senseless débâcle, shouted to James, ‘We must board her! Don’t you understand? If we can once get into her, they’ll stand no chance against our numbers.’
Even as he shouted, another boat received a fusillade, mowing down half the men in her. Two of the boats had now restarted their engines, turned about and were making off.
Cupping his hands, James yelled back, ‘It’s hopeless! I’d join you myself, but I won’t see any more of my people slaughtered.’ Then, raising his voice still higher, he shouted in his native tongue, ‘Cease fire! Cease fire and return to harbour, all of you.’
The firing from the boats fell to a dribble, but the machine guns in the Pigalle continued their ugly chatter, inflicting more casualties as the remains of the flotilla turned tail and made off.
With fury in his heart, Gregory cursed Elbœuf. If only the old fool had not prevented them from carrying out a surprise attack in the middle of the night they could easily have overcome the Colons. Now he must resign himself to defeat. The game was lost and Lacost would get away with the treasure.