Dennis Wheatley - The White Witch of the South Seas

The morning seemed endless and, with poor appetites, they ate their lunch almost in silence. Up on deck again, they sat staring out into the mist that now nearly obscured the island, miserably aware that they might have to keep up their uneasy vigil for another twenty four hours or more.

The dreary hours of the sunless afternoon dragged by. Wrapped in coats and rugs against the mist, they sat on, facing the vaguely seen coast: Olinda telling the beads of her rosary and murmuring prayers, Gregory from time to time scanning through binoculars the partially obscured patches of jungle that stood between the village and the beach, and Manon doing her best to conceal her boredom.

A little before six they came to the conclusion that they would have to remain at anchor there for at least another day, and stood up to go below. It was then, as Gregory gave the murky vista a last sweep with his glasses, that he suddenly sighted a boat coming towards them. The now fading light, added to the mist, had caused him to miss seeing it as it put off, and it was already some way from the shore. Quickly he pointed it out to the others; then Olinda shouted to Captain Amedo to send the speed boat in to meet it.

Now, lining the rail, they waited with almost unbearable impatience, striving to pierce the gloom and see if the native boat carried James, returning to them, or if it bore only a messenger to report that the fire walk had had, for some reason, to be delayed.

The speed boat met the native craft about halfway from the shore and a figure transferred to it. But many of the natives of Beqa were as tall as James, so his friends could still not tell if it was him or a messenger.

Another agonising five minutes passed; then Olinda, to whom Gregory had passed the binoculars, cried: `It's he! It's he! And he can't have been maimed, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to step so easily from one boat into the other. Oh, Holy Mary be praised!'

Gregory and Manon could also by then recognise the figure in the stern of the speed boat as James. He waved to them and they all waved back. But the all important question still remained. Had he passed through the ordeal unscathed or had he, at the last moment, allowed fear to overcome him and refused the trial?

As the speed boat drew alongside the yacht, they had the answer. James' handsome face was lit with a radiant smile that told its own story. No man who had to confess failure through lack of courage could have worn such an expression. When he scrambled aboard, Olinda, sobbing with relief, threw her arms about him and, regardless of onlookers, kissed him again and again with fervid passion. No sooner had she released him than Manon went on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, Gregory and Captain Amedo shook him warmly by the hand, and the crew, although ignorant of his reason for having stayed ashore overnight, but realising that he must have achieved some triumph, cheered him lustily.

With flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, Olinda told Captain Amedo that all the crew were to be given an extra month's pay and a good ration of wine with their meal that evening. Down in the saloon, the steward produced two magnums of the late Valentim's best champagne, and James' friends drank his health again and again as he told his story.

It had taken the whole of the previous morning to persuade the old Chief to let him attempt the fire walk, so he had not started his twenty four hours of segregation until well on in the afternoon. While in the darkened bure, he had followed the Chief's instructions and told himself countless times, hour after hour, until it had resulted in self hypnosis, that he would feel no pain when he walked over the hot stones.

When he had emerged, everything had been made ready for the ordeal and the whole population of the village had assembled to watch. At the sight of the slight drizzle sizzling on the hot stones, thus turning into steam, his courage had ebbed, but the Vunivalu had taken him by the hand, told him that he must not look at the stones but straight ahead of him, then personally led him down into the pit. Concentrating his whole mind on Olinda, he had visualised her standing waiting for him on the opposite brink of the pit. His body had seemed to become lighter, the heat about him was so intense that it had vaguely crossed his mind that his clothes might catch fire, but he had felt no pain on the soles of his feet, only a swift tingling. Before he fully realised it, his ordeal was over, the Vunivalu was embracing him and giving him the nose kiss, the villagers were shouting their applause and he was being escorted to the Meeting House for a yaggona ceremony.

He had only just finished his account when Olinda’s chef appeared to say that, with the Senhora's permission, he proposed to put on a gala dinner. In the meantime quite a sea had got up, so Olinda told her Captain that they would lie under the shelter of Beqa for the night and not sail for Tujoa until the following morning. Manon, still anxious to delay their arrival for as long as possible, then renewed her invitation for them to visit her island.

Olinda poked across at Gregory, silently consulting him before making a reply. He did not want to give Lacost a free hand for too long at Tujoa, but the Boa Viagem would make the voyage more quickly than the Pigalle, and the Mamanucas lay almost on the direct course for the Nakapoas; so,

knowing that Olinda would like to arrange about Valentim's grave, he said he thought it would be a good idea.

By midday on Sunday they anchored off Manon's island, and in the afternoon all went ashore to accompany Olinda, clad and veiled in deep black, on a formal visit to her late husband's grave. Meanwhile, old Joe Joe had performed miracles with his staff to provide his mistress and her guests with an excellent dinner in the big bure.

That night they slept aboard. Next morning James gave Joe Joe instructions about the reburial of de Carvalho in a stone lined grave, and passed on to him a sum that Olinda had given him for the work and upkeep of the grave. After lunch they sailed again and dropped anchor off Revika shortly before midday on Wednesday, May 4th.

James had taken it for granted that the others would be his guests while on Tujoa but, when preparations were being made to go ashore, Olinda drew him aside and said

`Darling, as we agree to marry when my formal period of mourning is over, I do feel that, for both our sakes, I ought to protect my reputation in the eyes of your people. Manon is a gay and pleasant creature but… well, hardly the sort of woman who would be regarded in many quarters as a satisfactory chaperon. Of course, I shall love to come ashore and see your home and the island, but I think it would be best if I continued to sleep aboard the yacht.'

James agreed at once. `Of course you are right, my love, and your decision is a wise one. If you were living up on the hill I'd be sorely tempted to pay you a midnight visit; and, although my servants must sleep at times, somehow they seem to become aware of everything that is going on.'

It was this brief conversation that led James a few minutes later to get hold of Gregory and say to him, `Dear friend. You have made no secret of it that Manon is your mistress. How would you wish that situation to be treated while you are here? If I put the two of you in separate bures I take it you will want to join her in hers now and then. I have not the least objection, but the servants will be certain to learn of it, so, although they will be no less respectful, it will be goodbye to her reputation. How much you or she cares about that, I have no notion; but if the thought disturbs you there is an easy way out. During your stay here we could refer to her as “Mrs. Sallust”, then I could put the two of you in a double bure. How does that idea appeal to you?'

Gregory grinned at him. `I don't think Manon is the sort of woman to care much what the servants say of her, but as far as I am concerned your idea is admirable. I have always hated having to leave the warm bed of a girl in the early hours of the morning and make my way back to a cold one. I'll tell her, and I'm sure she'll raise no objections.'