Evil in a Mask (47 page)

Lenten tribulations were swept aside and the Carnival that normally followed it was anticipated by several days. The city became a Bedlam. The wealthy retired into their houses. The narrow streets became solid rivers of dancing, laughing people. Silk and satin garments, which slaves were normally forbidden to wear, were donned by the Fiesta Kings and Queens elected by them. Carried high upon swaying palanquins, they made their way slowly through the throng, preceded by drummers, trumpeters and rattle-wielders.

All order vanished. The Viceroy's dragoons were powerless to stop even the worst excesses. Reeling with drink, the Negroes defied their masters, broke into the shops and copulated joyfully with their women in the gutters.

This saturnalia continued for several days; then it eased a little, only to be renewed when on March 7th Don Joao and his Court, accompanied by several thousand other exiles, arrived.
The Prince was received with unbounded enthusiasm. Every window in the city remained alight all night. The following morning, a thousand dead-drunks lay snoring where they had fallen in the alleys adjacent to the Viceroy's Palace. The great horde of diseased, crippled and destitute descended on them like flights of vultures, to rob them of the few coins or trinkets they possessed.

From the beginning Roger had decided that Rio was an impossible place for a civilised man to make his permanent home in. For the week he had been living under the same roof as Lisala he had put all thoughts of the future from him, except the possibility that, in time, her father would consent to their marriage. All hope of that had been shattered, and even his ingenuity had failed to devise a means by which he might continue to be her lover.

Several weeks had now passed since they had slept together and the feeling had been growing upon him that there was little likelihood of their ever doing so again. The unsavoury city, with the din of church bells calling its religion-obsessed population to some service every hour of the day, and the disgusting orgies that had been taking place during the past fortnight had, at length, decided him to endeavour to forget Lisala and make his way back to Europe as soon as an opportunity offered.

It came on March 20th, with the arrival of the British frigate,
Phantom
. Roger gave her Captain time to go ashore and make his number with the Portuguese authorities; then, the following morning, had himself rowed out to her. Her Commander was a Captain Jackson and it chanced that, in the eighties, he had served in the Caribbean as a Midshipman under Roger's father. Over a bottle of Canary Sack, they talked of the Admiral and other matters.

Captain Jackson had brought out a despatch from Mr. Canning to Don Joao's Foreign Minster and, when a reply was ready, would return to England. He willingly agreed to take Roger with him.

The
Phantom
had left Portsmouth on February 10th, and up till then there had been little difference in the situation on
the Continent. Junot had swiftly subdued Portugal, and Napoleon was continuing to perfect his ‘Continental System'. The Kingdom of Etruria, in northern Italy, had, in 1802, been created by him as a puppet State for the daughter of Carlos VI of Spain. That winter he had arbitrarily taken it over, and incorporated the Kingdom in that of Italy, which was governed for him by his stepson, Eugene de Beauharnais. Then, in January, when the Pope had insisted on maintaining his neutrality and refused to close his ports to Brittish shipping, the Emperor had sent an army to occupy Rome.

Knowing the dilatoriness of the Portuguese, it was not to be expected that a reply to Mr. Canning's despatch would be forthcoming for at least a week; so Captain Jackson said he would let Roger know when it came to hand, which would still give Roger several hours' notice before
Phantom
was ready to sail.

Towards the end of the week Roger began to wonder what course he should pursue with regard to Lisala. If there had been any possibility of securing a private meeting with her, he certainly would have done so; but if he made a formal call on the de Pombals, nothing was to be gained by that, and the unexpected announcement of his coming departure might quite possibly lead to a most undesirable scene in the presence of her family. Eventually he decided to write a letter and get Baob to deliver it to her.

Next morning, up in his room, he set about it, giving as his reasons for leaving Rio: the hopelessness of their again being even temporarily united and—which was true enough—the fact that, having all his life lived at the centre of great events, he could not bring himself to remain any longer in exile in such uncongenial surroundings. He was just about to add how much her love had meant to him and how he would always treasure the memory of it, when Mobo, the slave whom Philippe had procured to act as Roger's servant, came up to say that Baob was below asking to see him.

Putting aside his letter, Roger told Mobo to go down and bring Baob up. On entering the room the huge, gaily-clad
Negro bowed profoundly and, as Roger had felt almost certain would be the case, handed him a letter from Lisala.

Breaking the seal, he opened and read it. To his consternation she had written to tell him that she was
enceinte
, and to implore his help. She had done everything she could think of to terminate her pregnancy, but had failed. In due course, Dona Christina, or her Aunt Anna, could not fail to realise her condition, and would tell her father. The fate of girls of good family in such circumstances was ordained by custom. Her baby would be taken from her and she would be forced to take the veil. The thought of spending the rest of her life in a convent was more than she could bear. She would rather commit suicide. Her only hope was in him. Somehow he must get her out of the house and take her to some distant place where she could have his child and they would afterwards live happily together.

Roger's brain began to race. For a moment he visualised the sort of existence Lisala would be compelled to lead in a convent: fasts, penances, perpetual discomfort in rough clothes or on board-hard beds, periods of enforced silence, having to kneel on the cold stones of a chapel several times a day. He could not possibly abandon her to such a fate. And she was carrying his child. From long experience he had always been most careful about taking every possible precaution. But obviously they must have slipped up on one of those first nights in Rio, when weariness after their hideous voyage had made them careless.

How to get her away from her family presented a problem that seemed to defy solution. At least he could thank his gods that a British ship lay in the harbour and, if only he could get Lisala on board, he felt sure that Captain Jackson would give her passage with him to England. But how could that be done?

If the de Pombal ladies had made frequent excursions into the town, he could have hired a band of desperadoes to help him kidnap Lisala; but, as far as he knew, since the beginning of the horrible Fiesta, except on one occasion to pay homage to Don Joao, they had never left the house. And they might
not do so again for another week or more. In the meantime, the odds were that the
Phantom
would have sailed. To make sure of her sailing with them he must have Lisala in his keeping within forty-eight hours.

There was only one thing for it. He must abduct her from the house. Already he had racked his brain in vain for a way to get up to her room. That could only be done by raising the heavy ladder, and he could not do that without help. His first thought was to take Mobo with him; but he promptly dismissed it. The Negro was barely capable of brushing his clothes and running small errands. As a companion in a dangerous undertaking he would prove a liability rather than an asset. The penalties for slaves who broke the law were so terrible that they did so only when driven by dire necessity. When Mobo's dull brain grasped the fact that he was being used in an illegal act, he would first take the opportunity to do a bolt, and chance his luck in coming upon one of the numerous encampments of runaway slaves who were scraping a living in the depths of the jungle.

Looking up, Roger's glance settled on Baob, who was standing silently in the doorway, waiting to know whether he was to take back an answer to Lisala's letter.

Baob was a very different type of man from Mobo. He was intelligent, self-confident, and was well acquainted with the layout of the de Pombal property. Moreover, he was already accepting money to act as the carrier of a secret correspondence between Roger and Lisala.

After a moment's thought, Roger asked him, ‘Would you like to earn enough money to buy your freedom?'

The ivory teeth of the big black flashed again, and he replied in bastard Portuguese, ‘Yes, lord. To do that I's your man.'

Roger nodded. ‘Then tell the
Senhorita
Lisala to have no more fears. I will do as she has asked. Later today—say between seven and eight o'clock—return to the town and meet me on the foreshore below the square.'

Salaaming deeply, the Negro said, ‘Will do, lord.' Then he turned and went down the stairs.

Thinking matters over, Roger could not decide whether this unexpected development was a good thing for him or not. The thought of again enjoying Lisala, after not having done so for so many weeks, held an allure that, as he contemplated it, made his heart beat faster. But he was nearly twice her age, and she was extremely highly sexed. In fact she was nearer than any woman he had ever known to being a nymphomaniac. Uneasily, he wondered whether he would prove capable over a prolonged period of satisfying her cravings. Again, enchanting though she was as a companion, he knew her to be utterly selfish, that on occasion she displayed a most evil temper, and that in her character there was a vicious streak.

But she was now carrying his child; and in him lay her only hope of any happiness in the future. So fate had clearly ordained that, for better or for worse, a link existed between them which he could not ignore.

During the siesta hours he thought out in detail what had to be done to succeed in carrying off Lisala. Then he had himself rowed out to the
Phantom
. To Captain Jackson he gave a version of his situation which was very near the truth. He said that he was in love with a Portuguese lady who returned his love; but her father would not consent to their marrying. He had, therefore, determined to abduct her. He then asked the Captain if he would consent to receiving the lady on board and conveying her with him back to England.

After a short hesitation, Jackson replied, ‘I should like to oblige you in this, Mr. Brook, and in these troubled times it occurs not infrequently that ladies must be accepted as passengers in British men-of-war. But I am averse to letting myself in for trouble with the Portuguese. If you can bring her aboard without their knowledge, well and good. But should they come after her and her father demand her return, I'll have no alternative but to let him have her.'

This was as much as Roger could expect. Having thanked the Captain, he raised the question of money. Although he had been repaid by de Pombal for his original outlay on the house, his nine weeks in Brazil had made heavy inroads into the sum he had brought with him. He had also had an unpleasant
surprise when he had endeavoured to dispose of a few of his stock of small diamonds. Only then had he discovered that Brazil was one of the few countries in the world that produced considerable quantities of diamonds, and the sum he had been offered was so paltry that he had rejected it. Now he produced the bag of stones, emptied it out on the cabin table and said to Jackson:

‘I have another favour to ask. To carry through the enterprise I intend to undertake I need gold to bribe a man to give me his assistance. In England that little lot would fetch at least three hundred guineas. Would you oblige me by taking them as security for a loan of a hundred?'

The Captain prodded the stones with his finger and replied, ‘I do not doubt your word, Mr. Brook; but I know nothing of the value of precious gems. However, I will do as you wish if you are willing to back the transaction with your note of hand.'

‘By all means.' Roger agreed; upon which Jackson produced for him pen, ink, paper and a sand-horn, then unlocked an iron-bound chest. Ten minutes later, having told the Captain that he expected to bring the
Senhorita
aboard at about one a.m. the following morning, Roger was being rowed ashore, with the gold in his breeches pockets.

On the stony, wreck-strewn beach he found Baob waiting for him. He had decided that it could only prove dangerous to mislead the big Negro about his intention; so he told him that he needed his assistance not only to get up to Lisala's room, but that he meant to carry her off. He then outlined his plan. It was to arrive the following night at midnight on horseback, and with a led horse for Lisala. Having tethered the horses at the back of the big barn, he would go round to its entrance. Together they would raise the heavy ladder to Lisala's window. While Baob kept watch in case any of the slaves in the loft were aroused and possibly came out to see what was happening, he would go up and bring Lisala down. Baob was to tell Lisala what was planned, so that she would be fully dressed in travelling clothes and have a single valise ready
packed with only a change of attire, fresh underclothes and her most precious possessions.

The African showed no surprise at Roger's revelation that he had in mind much more than a secret meeting with Lisala, and displayed his intelligence by asking several shrewd questions. Roger than produced a handful of guineas from his pocket and said:

‘Fifty of these are for you if you are willing to do all that I require of you: twenty-five before we leave, if I can get safely away with the
Senhorita
.'

For a slave the sum offered was a fortune. As Baob stared down at the gold, his eyes opened wide, their whites contrasting sharply with the black skin of his face. Roger picked five of the guineas from the top of the pile in his palm and offered them to the Negro as an earnest of good faith. Eagerly Baob accepted them, bowed to the ground and swore on St. Balthasar, the patron saint of the slaves, to follow Roger's instructions to the letter.