“We have talked for a long time. Lucas will be wondering where we are.”
Two more days passed. The water stock was very low and we were running out of coconuts. Simon had found a stout stick which Lucas used as a crutch. His leg was slightly less painful, he said, but I had little confidence in our attempts to set it. Still, he could hobble a few steps and that cheered him considerably.
When we were alone, Simon told me further incidents from his life and I began to get a clearer picture of what it had been like. I was fascinated by it all. I longed to be of help in uncovering the truth and helping to establish his innocence. I wanted to hear more of Harry Tench. I had decided that he was the murderer. Simon said Cosmo should not have been so hard on the man. True, Harry Tench was a poor farmer and if the estate was to prosper it must be maintained in a proper manner, but he could have kept Harry Tench on in some capacity perhaps. Cosmo had insisted that he was useless as a worker; moreover, he had been insolent, which was something Cosmo would not accept.
We used’ to discuss how it would have been possible for Harry Tench to have killed Cosmo. He had no fixed home; he often slept in barns; he had admitted sleeping in Bindon Boys.
Perhaps he had been there when Cosmo arrived at the house a short time before Simon came in. Perhaps he had seized his opportunity. But there was the gun. That needed a little explanation. It had been discovered that it came from the gunroom at Perrivale Court. How could Harry Tench have got his hands on it?
And so on . but I am sure it was a great relief to Simon to be able to talk.
It was our fifth day on the island and late in the afternoon. Simon and I had been wandering round all the morning. We had found some berries which we thought might be edible and were considering the risk of trying them when we heard a shout. followed by a whistle.
It was Lucas. We hurried back to him. He was pointing excitedly to the horizon. It was just a speck. Were we imagining this or were we conjuring up in our minds something we so desperately wanted to see?
In breathless silence we watched. It had begun to take shape.
“It is. It is!” cried Simon.
In the Seraglio
Having been close to death for so long, I had thought that anything would have been preferable; but the fears of the next weeks were beyond anything I could ever have imagined.
How often did I tell myself that it would have been better to go down with the ship or that our little boat had been destroyed in a hurricane?
I recall now our joy when we first saw that ship on the horizon and then so soon after we had been rescued, I became sure that it would have been better if we had remained on the island, still vainly looking for a rescue. Who knew, we might have found some means of surviving; and we were together, enjoying a certain peace and security.
From the moment those dark, swarthy men waded ashore, red caps on their heads, cutlasses at their sides, our euphoria at being rescued had been replaced by a fearful apprehension. It was immediately clear that we could not understand their language. I guessed they must be of Arabic origin. Their ship was no Atlantic Star. It looked like an ancient galley. It had not occurred to me that there could still be pirates on the high seas, but I remembered the captain of the Atlantic Star one night at dinner when he told us that there were ships which still roamed about in certain waters, following some nefarious trade or other. And it instantly occurred to me that we had fallen into the hands of such men.
I did not like the ship; I did not like these men; and it was clear to me that my suspicions were shared by both Simon and Lucas.
We stood close as though to shield each other. There were about ten of them. They gabbled together and stared searchingly at us. One of them approached and took a lock of my hair in his hands. They were crowding round and chattering excitedly. My hair was fairer now that it was bleached by the sun and I could only believe that they were astonished by my colouring which was so different from theirs.
I sensed the uneasiness of Simon and Lucas. They had edged closer to me. I knew they would both fight to the death for me, which brought a modicum of comfort.
Their attention had turned to Lucas who was standing there, leaning on the stick we had found for him. He looked pale and ill.
The men were chattering and shaking their heads. They gazed at me and then at Simon. They laughed and nodded to each other. I had a terrible fear that they were going to take us and leave Lucas.
I said: “We’ll all stand together.”
“Yes,” muttered Simon.
“I don’t like the look of them.”
“Bad luck they found us,” murmured Lucas.
“Better …”
“What do you think they are?”
Simon shook his head, and I felt numb with fear. I was afraid of these men, their chattering voices, their sly sidelong glances, their implication as to what they would do with us.
Suddenly they made a decision. One, whom I took to be the leader, signed to them and four of them went to our boat, examined it and turned to nod at the others. They were taking our boat out to the galley.
Simon took a step forward but he was barred by a man with a cutlass.
“Let them take it,” I hissed.
It was our turn. The leader nodded and two men, their cutlasses drawn, came and stood behind us. They gave us all a little push and we saw what was indicated. We were to go out to the galley. Lucas hobbled between us . but the three of us were at least together.
Simon murmured: “We wouldn’t have lasted long on that island, anyway.”
It was difficult getting Lucas on board. None of them helped us. We had to mount a rope-ladder which was almost an impossibility for Lucas. I think Simon half carried him up.
Then we were all three standing on the deck surrounded by curious men.
They all seemed to be staring at me. Several of them touched my hair.
They laughed together, twisting it round their fingers and pulling it.
There was a sudden silence. A man had appeared. I guessed he was the captain of the vessel. He was taller than the others and his dark lively eyes held a hint of humour. Moreover, there was a certain refinement in his well-defined features which gave me a brief glow of hope.
He shouted something and the men fell back.
He looked at the three of us and bowed his head in a form of greeting.
He said: “English?”
“Yes … yes,” we cried.
He nodded. That seemed to be the extent of his knowledge of our language, but his courtesy was comforting. He turned to the men and talked in a way which seemed threatening. They were clearly subdued.
He turned to us and said: “Come.”
We followed him and were put into a small cabin. There was a bunk there and we sat down thankfully.
The captain lifted his hand.
“Eat,” he said.
He then went out and locked the door behind him.
“What does it mean?” I asked.
Lucas thought that the object would be to hold us for ransom.
“It’s a thriving business,” he said.
“I feel sure that that is what they have in mind.”
“Do you mean to say they roam the seas looking for shipwrecked mariners?”
“Oh no. They’ll have another trade. Smuggling, perhaps … or even seizing ships where possible … like the pirates of old. They’d turn their hands to anything if there’s a profit in it. They would presume we must have a home somewhere and we’re English. They are inclined to regard all the English abroad as millionaires.”
