CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

When they returned to the drostdij, it appeared they were to dine with four valued members of the community who, with Odendaal, comprised the Heemrade, the town’s council.

‘I am sorry I had to subject you to that,’ Adriaan said, ‘but we had to be sure. I hope you understand.’

Suzanne felt sick to her stomach. She had no appetite, how could she? She wanted nothing more than to be alone with her thoughts.

‘Shall we go in?’

‘Adriaan, I cannot,’ she protested.

‘Odendaal’s sister will be there. I would not have brought you to a house with no female chaperone. I would not sully your reputation.’

‘It is not that. I have nothing to wear, my head is aching and that . . .’ She gestured in the direction of the cells.

‘You do not believe the sentence is just?’

‘No, I do. But I would be poor company, Adriaan. Eltorp was so pitiful. It was like watching an animal caught in a trap. The terrible sound . . .’ Her words tailed away. ‘The man he described sounds like the person you found referenced in the archives twenty years ago. Liar though Eltorp might be, villain he undoubtedly is, but I cannot think he could have fabricated the description of his hair.’

Adriaan nodded. ‘I agree. That’s why I wanted you to hear it for yourself.’

She paused, then took a deep breath. ‘Must Eltorp hang?’

Adriaan fixed her with a look. ‘That is the penalty for murder.’

‘But what if he knows more?’

‘He would have told us everything. He was bargaining for his life.’ Adriaan glanced towards the door where the sound of voices suggested the dinner had already started. ‘I must join the others. I will give your apologies and ask if a tray might be sent up.’

Suzanne nodded her thanks. ‘The last thing I would want would be to compromise you in any way, Adriaan, but when we return to the Colony, could you please, please find a way for me to visit the archives for myself? Now we have this additional piece of information, perhaps it will unlock something you missed. I know I presume a great deal of our friendship—’

He looked at her, then smiled. ‘Given it was your courage and love for your friend that brought my dear Judith into my life, I will do my best.’

‘Thank you. And after that—’

He put up his hands. ‘I know, “one last thing”! It always is.’

‘Am I so predictable?’

Adriaan laughed. ‘That I cannot answer for fear of causing offence.’

Finally, Suzanne smiled too. ‘Given what Eltorp said about this man having come from Olifantshoek, and given we know from what you found in the archives – that Louise and her companions had gone into the interior soon after they arrived – might it be possible to talk to the local people?’

‘Khoi, do you mean?’

‘Well, yes. You tell me that many speak Dutch – and I dare say some of your men speak their language. It stands to reason that if there is a lone white settler living in the valleys beyond Stellenbosch, the Khoi would know. And,’ she added, remembering her first conversation with Madame Lombard, ‘if Louise did settle in the interior in 1622, she must have done so with their blessing. Otherwise, how could she – how could they – have survived?’

He thought for a moment. ‘The challenge will be to find someone prepared to talk to us.’

‘But will you try?’ she pressed. ‘Perhaps even find someone prepared to take me there? Several times, Olifantshoek has been mentioned. If I could only see for myself—’

At that moment, a maid appeared in the hallway, bringing the conversation to a close. She was wearing a blue dress with a bib apron and cap, dazzling white against her Black skin.

‘The master has bid me tell you dinner is served,’ she said in perfectly executed, though strongly accented, Dutch.

‘Juffrouw Joubert will not be joining us. Please show her to her chamber and take her some light supper.’

‘Very good, mijnheer.’ The maid bobbed a curtsey. ‘Will you come with me, miss?’

Suzanne turned to Adriaan. ‘Will you?’

‘I will think on it. Good night, sister. Sleep well.’

In her chamber, Suzanne took a sip of wine and felt her sore arms and shoulders relax a little more. A new plan started to take shape. Perhaps she should base herself in Stellenbosch for a while? It would make sense for her investigations and make it all the easier to make an expedition to Olifantshoek. Although she doubted if her grandmother would want to come with her, she had no concerns about leaving her in the Colony for a week or two. Florence’s friendship with Madame Lombard sustained her, and gave her a social anchor among the growing Huguenot community.

Perhaps Adriaan could arrange for her to stay in the drostdij for a week or two? Odendaal’s sister was here, so she could serve as chaperone if she would be amenable. One thing was for sure, Suzanne couldn’t let this lead go cold.

Louise was suddenly within her reach. She could almost see her, feel her presence at her side. Guiding her on.

Suzanne exhaled, taking pleasure from the stars in the upside-down sky and the gentle cries of night-time birds. A nightjar, she thought, and an owl calling to her mate. Today, she had learnt something that pertained to the present not to the half-distant past. It was only two weeks ago that Eltorp claimed to have seen the man with a white stripe in his hair.

The more her thoughts danced in her mind, the more the identity of this man troubled her. Louise, Gilles, Phillipe – one woman and two men had disembarked the Old Moon. But Phillipe Vidal would be more than fourscore years and ten, an exceptional age. Surely even Eltorp would not mistake a man of such advanced years for one thirty years younger?

There was another explanation – that Phillipe had fathered a child and the man Eltorp had traded with was Vidal’s son. But if that was the case, then who was the mother? He was a white man, Eltorp had been certain about that. She pushed the idea away. But somewhere deep inside, the thought took hold, like a splinter, under her skin.