“I know. What’s that got to do with it? She took a fancy to me the first moment she saw me. I knew that. I took a fancy to her, too. I haven’t had a thing since I left Sydney. Somehow, I can’t stick these natives. When I had that dance with her I knew it was all right. I could have had her then. We went out in the garden when you were playing bridge. I kissed her. She was just aching for it. When a girl’s like that you don’t want to give her time to think twice about it. I was in a bit of a state myself. I’ve never seen anyone to touch her. If she’d told me to go and throw myself over a cliff I’d have done it. When she came this morning with her old man I asked her if we couldn’t meet. She said, No. I said, Couldn’t I come up after they’d all gone to bed and we could have a bathe in the pool together? She said, No, but she wouldn’t say why not. I told her I was crazy about her. And I was too. My God, she’s a peach. I took her down to the ketch and showed her over. I kissed her there. That damned old Nichols wouldn’t leave us alone for more than a minute. I said I’d go up to the plantation to-night. She said she wouldn’t come, but I knew she would, she wanted me just as much as I wanted her; and sure enough when I got there, she was waiting for me. It was lovely there, in the dark, except for the mosquitoes, they were biting like mad, it was more than flesh and blood could stand, and I said, Couldn’t we go to her room? and she said she was afraid, but I told her it was all right, and at last she said Yes.”
Fred stopped. The doctor looked at him from under his heavy eyelids. His pupils, from the opium he had smoked, were like pin-points. He listened and pondered over what he heard.
“At last she said I’d better get a move on. I put on my clothes, all but my shoes, so that I shouldn’t make a row on the verandah. She went out first to see the coast was clear. Sometimes when he couldn’t sleep old Swan wandered up and down there as if it was the deck of a ship. Then I slipped out and hopped over the verandah. I sat down on the ground and started to put on my shoes and before I knew what had happened someone grabbed me and pulled me up. Erik. He’s got the strength of an ox, he lifted me up as if I was a bit of a kid, and he put his hand over my mouth, but I was so startled I couldn’t have shouted if I’d wanted to. Then he put his hand round my throat and I thought he was going to choke the life out of me. I don’t know, I was paralysed, I couldn’t even struggle. I couldn’t see his face. I heard him breathing; by God, I thought I was done for, and then suddenly he let me go; he gave me a great clout over the side of the head, with the back of his hand, I think it was, and I just fell like a log. He stood over me for a bit; I didn’t move; I thought if I moved he’d kill me, and then suddenly he turned round and walked away at about a hundred miles an hour. I got up in a minute and looked at the house. Louise hadn’t heard a thing. I thought: should I go and tell her, but I didn’t dare, I was afraid someone would hear me knocking on the shutter. I didn’t want to frighten her. I didn’t know what to do. I started to walk, and then I found I hadn’t put my shoes on, I had to go back for them. I was in a panic because just at first I couldn’t find them. I drew a long breath when I got back on the road. I was wondering if Erik was waiting for me. It’s no joke walking along a road at night, with not a soul about, and knowing that a great hulking fellow may step out at any minute and give you a hiding. He could wring my neck like a chicken’s, and I shouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. I didn’t walk very quick and I kept my eyes peeled. I thought if I saw him first I’d make a dash for it. I mean, it’s no good standing up to a chap when you haven’t got a chance, and I knew I could run a lot faster than him. I expect it was only nerves. After I’d walked about a mile I wasn’t in a funk any more. And then, you know, I felt I must see him at any price. If it had been anybody else I shouldn’t have cared a damn, but, somehow, I couldn’t stand him thinking me just a damned swine. You can’t understand, but I’ve never met anyone like him, he’s so straight himself, you can’t bear he shouldn’t think you straight, too. Most people you know, well, they’re no better than you are; but Erik was different. I mean, you’d have to be a perfect damned fool not to see that he was one in a thousand. See what I mean?”
The doctor gave his thin, derisive smile, and his lips were drawn back from his long yellow teeth so that you thought of the snarl of a gorilla.
“Goodness. I know, it’s shattering. One doesn’t know what to do about it. It knocks human relations endways. Damned shame, isn’t it?”
“Christ, why can’t you talk like everybody else?”
“Go on.”
“Well, I just felt I had to have it out with him. I wanted to tell him the whole thing. I was quite ready to marry the girl. I just couldn’t help myself with her, I mean. After all, it was only human nature. You’re old, you don’t know what it is. It’s all very well when you’re fifty. I knew I shouldn’t have a moment’s rest till I put myself right with him. When I got to his house I stood outside for I don’t know how long, screwing up my courage; it wanted some nerve to go in, you know, but I just forced myself. I couldn’t help thinking that if he hadn’t killed me then he wouldn’t kill me now. I knew he didn’t lock the door. That first time we went there he just turned the handle and walked in. But, my God, my heart was thumping when I got in the passage. It was pitch-black when I shut the door. I called his name, but he didn’t answer. I knew where his room was and I went along and I knocked at the door. Somehow, I didn’t believe he was asleep. I knocked again and then I shouted, ‘Erik, Erik.’ At least I tried to shout, but my throat was so dry my voice was as hoarse as a raven’s. I couldn’t make out why he didn’t answer. I thought he was just waiting in there, listening. I was in a blue funk, I had half a mind to cut and run, but I didn’t. I tried the latch, the door wasn’t locked, and I opened it. I couldn’t see a thing, I called again and I said: ‘For God’s sake speak to me, Erik.’ Then I struck a match and I gave a great jump. I almost jumped out of my skin, he was lying on the floor, at my feet, and if I’d taken a step more I should have tumbled over him. I dropped the match and I couldn’t see a thing. I screamed at him. I thought he’d fainted or was dead drunk or something. I tried to strike another match, but the damned thing wouldn’t light, and then, when it did, I held it over him and, my God, the whole side of his head was shot away. The match went out and I lit another. I saw the lamp and I lit that. I knelt down and felt his hand. It was quite warm. He had a revolver clenched in the other hand. I touched his face to see if he was alive. There was blood all over the place. My God, you never saw such a wound; and then I just came round here as quick as I could. I shall never forget that sight as long as I live.”
He hid his face with his hands and in his misery rocked to and fro. Then a sob broke from him and, throwing himself back in the chair, he turned his face away and wept. Dr. Saunders let him cry. He reached out for a cigarette, lit it and deeply inhaled the smoke.
“Did you leave the lamp burning?” he said at last.
“Oh, damn the lamp,” cried Fred impatiently. “Don’t be such a bloody fool.”
“It doesn’t matter. He could just as well have shot himself with the lamp burning as in the darkness. Funny none of the boys should have heard anything. I suppose they would have thought it was a Chinaman letting off a cracker.”
Fred put aside all that the doctor said. Nothing of that was of any consequence.
“What in God’s name made him do it?” he cried desperately.
“He was engaged to Louise.”
The effect of the doctor’s remark was startling. Fred sprang to his feet with a bound, and his face grew livid. His eyes almost started out of his head with horror.
“Erik? He never told me.”
“I suppose he thought it was none of your damned business.”
“She didn’t tell me. She never said a word. Oh, God. If I’d known I wouldn’t have touched her with the fag-end of a barge-pole. You’re just saying that. It can’t be true. It can’t.”
“He told me so himself.”
“Was he awfully in love with her?”
/>
“Awfully.”
“Then why didn’t he kill me or her instead of himself?”
Dr. Saunders gave a laugh.
“Curious, isn’t it?”
“For God’s sake don’t laugh. I’m so miserable. I thought nothing worse could happen to me than what has. But this.… She meant nothing to me, really. If I’d only known I wouldn’t have thought of fooling about with her. He was the best pal a chap ever had. I wouldn’t have hurt him for anything in the world. What a beast he must have thought me! He’d been so awfully decent to me.”
Tears filled his eyes and flowed slowly down his cheeks. He cried bitterly.
“Isn’t life foul? You start a thing and you don’t think twice about it, and then there’s hell to pay. I think there’s a curse on me.”
He looked at the doctor, his mouth trembling and his fine eyes heavy with woe. Dr. Saunders examined his own feelings. He did not quite approve of the faint satisfaction he felt in the young man’s grief. He had a tendency to feel that what he was suffering served him right. At the same time he was unreasonably sorry to see him unhappy. He looked so young and woebegone he could not help being touched.
“You’ll get over it, you know,” he said. “There’s nothing one doesn’t get over.”
“I wish I was dead. My old man said I was no damned good and I bet he was right. I make trouble wherever I go. I swear it’s not all my fault. The lousy bitch. Why didn’t she leave me alone? Can you imagine that a girl who was engaged to a chap like Erik should go to bed with the first man she sees. Well, there’s one thing, he was well rid of her.”
“You’re talking rubbish.”
“I may be a stinking bad lot, but, by God, I’m not as bad as she is. I thought I was going to get another chance and now it’s all gone to hell.”
He hesitated a moment.
“You remember that cable I got this morning? It told me something I didn’t know. It was so extraordinary, I couldn’t make it out at first. There’s a letter for me at Batavia. It’s all right for me to go there now. It was rather a shock at first. I didn’t know whether to laugh or what. The cable says I died of scarlet fever at the Fever Hospital just outside Sydney. I saw what it meant after a bit. Father’s rather important in New South Wales. There was a bad epidemic. They rushed someone to the hospital under my name; they had to explain why I didn’t go to the office and all that, and when the chap died I died too. If I know my old man he was damned glad to get rid of me. Well, there’s someone who’ll lie nice and cosy in the family grave. Father’s a wonderful organiser. It’s him that’s kept the party in power so long. He wasn’t going to take a risk if he could help it, and I expect as long as I was above ground he never could feel quite safe. The government got in again at the election. Did you see that? A thumping majority. I can see him with a black band round his arm.”
He gave a mirthless chuckle. Dr. Saunders shot a question at him, abruptly.
“What did you do?”
Fred looked away. He answered in a low, choked voice.
“I killed a chap.”
“I wouldn’t tell too many people if I were you,” said the doctor.
“You seem to take it pretty calm. Have you ever killed anyone?”
“Only professionally.”
Fred looked up quickly and a smile was wrung from his tortured lips.
“You’re a queer fellow, doc. Blest if I can make you out. When one’s talking to you, somehow nothing seems to matter a damn. Isn’t there anything that makes a difference to you? Isn’t there anything you believe in?”
“Why did you kill him? For fun?”
“A damned lot of fun I got out of it. What I’ve gone through! I wonder it hasn’t turned my hair grey. You see, I brooded over it. I could never forget it. I’d be feeling all merry and bright and having a good time and then suddenly I’d remember. I was afraid to go to sleep sometimes. I used to dream I was being pinioned and just going to be hanged. Half a dozen times I’ve been on the point of slipping overboard one night when nobody was looking, and just swimming till I drowned or a shark got me. If you only knew what a relief it was when I got that cable and understood what it meant! My God, it was a weight off my mind. I was safe. You know, I never felt really safe on the lugger and when we landed anywhere I was always looking for someone to nab me. The first time I saw you, I thought you were a detective and you were on my track. D’you know the first thing I thought this morning? ‘Now I shall be able to sleep sound.’ And then this had got to happen. I tell you there’s a curse on me.”
“Don’t talk such rot.”
“What am I to do? Where am I to go? To-night, while that girl and I were lying in one another’s arms, I thought: why shouldn’t I marry her and settle down here? The boat’ll be damned useful. Nichols could have gone back on the same ship that you’re taking. You could have got my letter that’s waiting in Batavia. I expect it’s got a bit of money in it. Mother would have made the old man send something. I thought me and Erik, we could have gone into partnership.”
“You can’t do that, but you can still marry Louise.”
“Me?” cried Fred. “After what’s happened? I couldn’t stick the sight of her. I hope to God I never see her again. I’ll never forgive her. Never. Never.”
“What are you going to do, then?”
“God knows. I don’t. I can’t go home. I’m dead and buried in the family grave. I should like to see Sydney again, George Street, you know, and Manley Bay. I haven’t got anyone in the world now. I’m a pretty good accountant, I suppose. I can get a job as book-keeper in some store. I don’t know where to go. I’m like a lost dog.”
“If I were you the first thing I’d do is to go back to the Fenton and try and get a little sleep. You’re all in. You’ll be able to think better in the morning.”
“I can’t go back to the boat. I hate it. If you knew how often I’ve woken up in a cold sweat, with my heart beating, because those men opened the door of my cell, and I knew the rope was waiting for me! And now Erik’s lying there with half his head blown away. My God, how can I sleep?”
“Well, curl up on that chair. I’m going to bed.”
“Thanks. Go ahead. Will it disturb you if I smoke?”
“I’ll give you a little something. There’s no object in your lying awake.”
The doctor got out his hypodermic needle and gave the boy a shot of morphine. Then he put out the lamp and slipped under his mosquito curtain.
xxvii
THE doctor awoke when Ah Kay brought him a cup of tea. Ah Kay drew back the mosquito curtain and raised the jalousie to let in the day. The doctor’s room looked on the garden, tangled and neglected, with its palm trees, its clumps of bananas their immense flat leaves still shining with the night, its bedraggled but splendid cassias; and the light filtered through cool and green. The doctor smoked a cigarette. Fred lay on the long chair, sleeping still, and his unlined boyish face, so calm, had an innocence in which the doctor, with a suspicion of sardonic humour, found a certain beauty.
“Shall I wake him?” asked Ah Kay.
“Not yet.”
While he slept he was at peace. He must awake to grief. An odd boy. Who would have thought that he could be so susceptible to goodness? For, though he didn’t know it, though he put what he felt in clumsy and stupid words, there was no doubt about it, what had knocked him off his feet in the Dane, what had excited his embarrassed admiration and made him feel that here was a man of a different sort, was the plain, simple goodness that shone in him with so clear and steadfast a light. You might have thought Erik a trifle absurd, you might have asked yourself uneasily whether his head were quite equal to his heart, but there was no doubt about it, he had, heaven only knew by what accident of nature, a real and simple goodness. It was specific. It was absolute. It had an aesthetic quality, and that commonplace lad, insensible to beauty in its usual forms, had been moved to ecstasy by it as a mystic might be moved by the sudden overwhelming sense of union with the Godhea
d. It was a queer trait that Erik had possessed.
“It leads to no good,” said the doctor, with a grim smile as he got out of bed.
He went over to the mirror and stared at himself. He looked at his grey hair all disarranged after the night and his stubble of white beard that had grown since he had shaved the day before. He bared his teeth to look at his long yellow fangs. There were heavy pouches under his eyes. His cheeks had an unsightly purple. He was seized with disgust. He wondered why it was that of all creatures man was the only one that age so hideously disfigured. It was pitiful to think that Ah Kay, with his slender ivory beauty, must become nothing but a little shrivelled, wizened Chinaman, and that Fred Blake, so slim, upright and square-shouldered, would be just a red-faced old man with a bald head and a belly. The doctor shaved and had his bath. Then he awakened Fred.
“Come along, young fellow. Ah Kay’s just gone to see about our breakfast.”
Fred opened his eyes, immediately alert, eager in his youth to welcome another day, but then, looking about him, he remembered where he was, and everything else. His face on a sudden grew sullen.
“Oh, buck up,” said the doctor impatiently. “Go and have a wash down.”
Ten minutes later they were seated at breakfast, and the doctor noticed without surprise that Fred ate with a hearty appetite. He did not talk. Dr. Saunders congratulated himself. After so disturbed a night he felt none too well. His reflections upon life, then, were acid, and he preferred to keep them to himself.
When they were finishing the manager came up to them and addressed himself to Dr. Saunders in voluble Dutch. He knew the doctor did not understand, but talked nevertheless, and his signs and gestures would have made him comprehensible even if his manner, agitated and distressed, had not made what he was saying quite clear. Dr. Saunders shrugged his shoulders. He pretended he had no notion what the half-caste was talking about, and presently, in exasperation, the little man left them.