thought of losing him yet. We will only have this one night, she told him, and he did not reply. He lifted one eyebrow, and waited for her to speak again. You don't dispute it, she challenged. There was that mocking little smile beginning to curl his lip again, and it annoyed her. No, I was wrong, you are like all other women, he smiled. 'You have to talk, always you have to talk.'
She let him go, as punishment for those words. But as he slithered free of her she felt a terrible emptiness and she regretted his going fiercely, beginning to hate him for it.
You have no God, she accused him. Isn't it strange, he chided her gently, 'that most of the worst crimes in history have been committed by men with God's name upon their lips.'
The truth of it deflated her momentarily, and she struggled into a sitting position. You are a slaver. 'I don't really want to argue with you, you know. ' But she would not accept that. You buy and sell human beings. 'What are you trying to prove to me? ' He chuckled now, further angering her. I'm telling you that there is a void between us that can never be bridged. 'We have just done so, convincingly, and she flushed bright scarlet down her neck on to her bosom. I have sworn to devote my life to destroy all you stand for, she said fiercely, pushing her face close to his.
Woman, you talk too much, be told her lazily, and covered her mouth with his own, holding her like that while she struggled, gagging her with his lips so her protests were muffled and incomprehensible. Then when her struggles had subsided he pushed her easily backwards on to the bunk and came over her again.
In the morning when she woke, he was gone, but the bolster beside her was indented by his head. She pressed her face into it and the smell of his hair and of his skin still lingered, though the heat of his blood had dissipated and the linen was cool against her cheeks.
The ship was in the grip of intense excitement. She could hear the voices from the deck above as she scurried down the empty passageway to her own cabin, dreading meeting a member of the crew, or more especially meeting her brother.
What excuse could she have for being abroad in the dawn, with her cabin unslept in and her clothing torn. and rumpled?
Her escape was a matter of seconds only, for as she locked and leaned thankfully against the door of her cabin, Zouga beat upon it with his fist from the far side. Robyn, wake up! Get dressed. Land is in sight. Come and see!
Swiftly she bathed her body with a square of flannel dipped into the enamelled jug of cold sea water. She was tender, swollen and sensitive and there was a trace of blood on the cloth. The trace of shame, she told herself severely, but it was difficult to sustain the emotion. Instead she felt a soaring sense of physical well-being and a hearty appetite for her breakfast.
Her step was light, almost skipping as she went up on to the maindeck and the wind tugged playfully at her skirts.
Her first concern was for the man. He stood at the weather rail, in shirt-sleeves only, and immediately a storm of conflicting feelings and thoughts assailed her, the chief of which was that he was so lean and dark and devil- may-care that he should be kept behind bars as a menace to all womankind.
Then he lowered the telescope, turned and saw her by the companionway and bowed slightly, and she inclined her head an inch in reply, very cool and very dignified.
Then Zouga hurried to meet her, laughing and excited, and took her arm as he led her to the rail.
The mountain towered out of the steely green Atlantic, a great grey buttress of solid rock, riven and rent by deep ravines and gullies choked with dark green growth.
She had not remembered it so huge, seeming to fill the whole eastern horizon and reaching up into the heavens, for its summit was covered in a thick shimmering white mattress of cloud. The cloud rolled endlessly over the edge of the mountain like a froth of boiling milk pouring over the rim of the pot, but as it sank so it was sucked into nothingness, disappearing miraculously to leave the lower slopes of the mountain clear and close, each detail of the rock-face finely etched and the tiny buildings at its foot as startling white as the wing feathers of the gulls that milled the air about the clipper. We'll dine tonight in Cape Town, 'Zouga shouted over the wind, and the thought of food flooded Robyn's mouth with saliva.
Jackson, the steward, had the hands spread a tarpaulin to break the wind and they breakfasted under its lee, in the sunshine. It was a festive meal, for Mungo St. John called for champagne and they toasted the successful voyage and the good landfall in the bubbling yellow wine.
Then Mungo St. John ended it. 'The wind comes through there, tunnelled down that break in the mountain. ' He pointed ahead, and they saw the surface at the mouth of the bay seething with the rush of it. 'Many a ship has been dismasted by that treacherous blast. We'll be shortening sail in a few minutes. ' And he signalled to Jackon to clear away the trestles that carried the remains of their breakfast, excused himself with a bow and went back to his quarterdeck.
Robyn watched him strip the canvas off the upper yards, taking in two reefs in the main and setting a storm jib so that Huron met the freak wind readily and ran in for Table Bay, giving Robben Island a good berth to port.
When the ship had settled on to its new heading, Robyn went up on to the quarterdeck. I must speak with you, she told him, and St. John cocked his eyebrow at her. You could not have chosen a better time-' and with the eloquent spread of his hands indicated wind and current and the dangerous shore close under their bows. This will be the last opportunity' she told him , quickly. 'My brother and I will be leaving this ship immediately you drop anchor in Table Bay.'
The mocking grin slid slowly from his lips. If you are determined, then it seems that we have nothing more to say to each other.'
I want you to know why. 1I know why, he said, 'but I doubt that you do She stared at him, but he turned away to call a change of heading to the helmsman and then to the figure at the foot of the mainmast. Mr. Tippoo, I'll have another reef on her, if you please He came back to her side, but not looking at her, his head tilted back to watch the miniature figures of his crew on the mainyards high above them. Have you ever seen sixteen thousand acres of cotton with the pods ready for plucking? ' he asked quietly. Have you ever seen the bales going down river on the barges to the mills? ' She did not answer, and he went on without waiting. I have seen both, Doctor Ballantyne, and no man dare tell me that the men who work my fields are treated like cattle. 'You are a cotton-planter? 'I am, and after this voyage I will have a sugar plantation on the island of Cuba, half my cargo to pay for the land and half of it to work the cane. 'You are worse than I thought, she whispered. 'I thought you were merely one of the devil's minions.
Now I know you are the devil himself. 'You are going into the interior. ' St. John looked down at her now. 'When
