Evil in a Mask

After a moment, Roger resumed. ‘I apologise. I have gone too far, and put you in an impossible position. You must do what your conscience dictates, and I'll think no worse of you, nor do you harm. I'll say only that when one Englishman is in difficulties, he should be able to count on the help of another.'

He had given Jackson the loophole to escape without dishonour. After a moment the Captain nodded. 'So be it, Mr. Brook. I will refuse to surrender you, and carry you back to England. But what of the Senhorita? Had she simply eloped with you as planned, and her relations learned that you had brought her aboard my ship, then sought to regain her, I could have maintained that, as she was of marriageable age and had come willingly, it was a purely private matter in which I had no intention of intervening. But these two killings put a very different complexion on the affair. Her aunt may assert that you abducted her by force and call on the authorities to claim her. Should such a demand be made on me, how can I refuse to hand her over?'

Roger sighed. 'That certainly is a problem. For you to give me, as a British subject, sanctuary is one thing; but to give sanctuary to her is quite another. Yet I am most loath to abandon her. It would mean her being forced to take the veil and, enduring the living death of life as a nun.'

For some while they sat silent, then Jackson said, 'There is one way in which you could save her. As Captain of this ship I am empowered to marry any couple aboard it. Make her your wife tomorrow, and she will become a British subject.'

During the past months Roger had frequently contemplated making Lisala his wife. But that night she had finally revealed herself. Not only was she obsessed by sex and abnormally selfish. Behind the face of a Madonna, lay an unscrupulous and vicious mind. To gain her ends she had gone to the length of murdering her own father. Her beauty was only skin deep. She was Evil in a Mask.

A Very Ticklish Situation

It was one of the worst nights that Roger had ever spent. It had begun with betrayal, involved him in violence and murder, necessitated his blackmailing an honest sea-captain, and ended in hours of terrible indecision.

Why Baob should have betrayed him still remained a mystery. The result of that betrayal had shocked him profoundly. About his ability to force Captain Jackson into doing as he wished he had had no serious doubts. He had in the past defied and got his way with Pitt, Napoleon and half a dozen other powerful personalities on the European stage; so experience had taught him that, by a mixture of charm, subtle argument and brutal determination, he could bend most men to his will. But now he was faced with an issue that only he could resolve. Should he, or should he not, marry Lisala?

It could be argued that it was to save him that she had murdered her father. But Roger had grown to know her well enough to feel certain that that had not been her prime purpose. The deed had been inspired by her determination, whatever the cost, not to be forced into spending the rest of her life as a nun. Her beauty was staggering, and her sexual attraction such that a hermit vowed to celibacy would have thrown over his chances of heaven for the opportunity to possess her. Yet, concealed by that flawless loveliness lay a mind that was abnormal. She had not even shown remorse for her crime, and had faked tears only to impress Captain Jackson. The only indications of her abnormality were that her magnificent eyes were a trifle too widely spaced, the violence of her temper and the voluptuousness of her movements.

Recalling the eagerness with which she had abandoned herself to him that first time in the cave up on the mountain, and the frenzy of passion she had since displayed during those brief spells when they had been able to consummate their love in Isfahan, Lisbon and Rio, he had grave doubts about his ability to satisfy her abnormal sexual craving over a prolonged period. Yet, to take her to Europe, then abandon her seemed too heartless to contemplate. And, above all, she was carrying his child. Dawn found him mentally exhausted and heavy-eyed, but he had decided that he must go through with it.

At seven o'clock he went to her cabin, to find her sleeping as soundly as a virgin in a convent, with no more on her conscience than the necessity to make confession that the sin of gluttony had led her to steal a piece of chocolate cake. Rousing her, he explained the situation to her, adding that if the Captain married them, it would have to be in accordance with the Church of England ceremony. He told her this, with half a hope that, as she was a Catholic and he a Protestant, she might refuse marriage if not celebrated with the rites of her own Church.

During the many years Roger had spent in France, it would have proved a serious handicap to admit that he was not a Roman Catholic; so he had attended such services as he could not avoid, although, like many officers who had inherited atheism from the Revolution, he had never gone to confession. He had adopted the same policy while crossing the Atlantic in the Nunez and later in Rio. Moreover, both in Isfahan and Lisbon he had given de Pombal the impression that he was a Catholic; so his admission that he was not caused Lisala considerable surprise.

Nevertheless, she remained quite unperturbed and said to him, 'The time people waste on their knees and the veneration they give to reliquaries filled with old bones has always been a mystery to me. And that women should deny themselves the enjoyment of their natural desires in hope of some vague future happiness seems to me a great stupidity. I have, too, always resented having to tell lies once a week, as so many people do, to some smelly old priest in a confessional. I give not a hoot how we are married, provided it be legal and your child born in wedlock.'

This last possible postponement of the issue having been brushed aside, Roger repaired to Captain Jackson and reported his decision. At nine o'clock, the Captain had all hands piped on deck and, with Roger and Lisala on cither side of him on the poop, read the service out of the prayer book, duly uniting them. Roger then asked that the ship's company should be given a double issue of rum at his expense, which provoked hearty cheers from the British tars. The health of the newly-weds was enthusiastically drunk, and they descended to the state-room to partake of a glass of wine with the Captain and his officers.

Their Commander had informed them before the ceremony that his reason for not having ordered a wedding breakfast was on account of Lisala's having lost her father the previous night; so he felt that such a jollification would be out of place. In consequence, even this small reception was embarrassing to its participants and, Roger reflected grimly, a poor augury for the future. Fortunately it was cut short by a Portuguese officer coming aboard to request the presence of Captain Jackson at the Palace at noon.

Already dressed in his best uniform, with a long face, the Captain duly went ashore, expecting to have to resist a demand for the surrender of Roger and his bride. He had every intention of keeping the promise he had made in the early hours of that morning; but was greatly troubled by the fact that three Portuguese men-of-war lay anchored in the estuary, so he was hopelessly outgunned and, if the Portuguese turned nasty, he would find himself in a most unpleasant situation.

Roger, too, was aware of that and knew that if a threat was made to open fire on the Phantom, he would have no alternative but to throw in his hand. He could only endeavour to comfort himself with the thought that, if the worst happened, luck and his skilful planning had combined to eliminate any evidence that either Lisala or he had had any hand in the murder of her father. Nevertheless, he could not escape the charge of having abducted her; so, if they were arrested and taken ashore, things would go hard with both of them.