Beyond The Blue Mountains - Plaidy Jean (читать книги бесплатно полностью без регистрации сокращений .txt) 📗

“Carolan.” he said.

“Carolan! Darling, what is prison, what is transportation, what are chains? We can overcome them all.

Promise, my darling. Promise to come to me …”

Her body urged her to lift her head, to let her brilliant eyes tell him of her response to the passion in him. But she could see Everard, his young face so different from that of Marcus, so beautiful, so saintly. What had prevented Everard from coming to her? How could she know what? Suppose he came? Suppose, when she landed on the other side, he was there waiting for her! Miracles could happen. In seven years’ time she would be a free woman. She would be twenty-four. Was that so very old? She fought against the almost overwhelming power of her senses. Because Marcus appealed to her body so strongly, she must guard against her body. What had Aunt Harriet slyly hinted? She was like her mother, like her grandmother … she had that in her, that immodesty, that sensuous desire which could, while it lasted, seem so important that it could lure one into ruining one’s life just for a momentary satisfaction. There he lay beside her, this man whom she knew to be a thief; he was unkempt; he was dirty; he was a convict sentenced to transportation for life! And because of that indefinable attraction he had for her, she had been ready to give herself up to the sensuous dream of living beside him for the rest of her life, loving him, hating him, finding pleasure in him.

She said: “I love Everard. Who knows, he may come to me! I do not believe he has deserted me; doubtless his mother prevented his coming to Newgate … We must go back to Esther; whatever will she think?”

She got up, and went back to Esther.

“Was it very bad?” Esther asked.

“What?” said Carolan.

“The chain gang. What a coward you must think me! But I cannot bear to hear of it.” She appealed to Marcus.

“Do you think I am a coward?”

“I think you are a very charming young lady!”

Carolan threw him a glance of distaste. She felt safe now. He could not put his hands on her, with Esther so near.

Esther said: There was a lady looking over the barricade. I think she must be a passenger. She wore a beautiful gown; but how she scowled!”

“Do you not know,” said Carolan, ‘that we convicts are performing animals? Our ways and habits are a source of amusement and ridicule to the free.”

“She did not seem amused. Her dark eyes flashed. She seemed to me to be looking straight at you and Marcus. Her petticoat was satin; she had black hair and black eyes. She was very beautiful! She paced up and down … in this heat too, but she did not seem to notice it!”

Carolan said: “An admirer of Marcus’s, doubtless!” She laughed at him.

“Odd how, in his convict’s rags, he can exercise that appeal of his!”

“Do not be jealous, darling,” said Marcus.

“I am not the man to be impressed by a satin petticoat.”

“Oh, but Esther says she is beautiful! Do you not admire black eyes, Marcus?”

“What does it matter?” put in Esther. This is the happiest hour we have spent since coming aboard. I could almost feel I was taking the trip for pleasure!”

“You must have strange ideas of pleasure.Esther,“said Carolan.

“Oh come,” put in Marcus.

“A great poet once said “There is some soul of goodness in things evil, would men observingly distil it out.” There is truth in that, do you not think so?”

“I do,” said Esther. Then: “Look, there is the dark lady again!”

Marcus looked up and looked away quickly.

“Fie!” cried Carolan.

“How coquettish he is! As coy as any maiden!”

“Carolan, please do not tease me.” The seriousness of his eyes made her look at him sharply.

She demanded: “Why is it that there is always mystery surrounding you, Marcus?”

“Is there? I did not know it.”

“You must know it. In Grape Street, one was never sure of you. And even here, on this miserable prison ship, there must be mystery concerning you.”

“My dear Carolan, what are you saying? What mystery do you refer to?”

She was unable to reply. She stammered: “It was just… that you looked… oh, I cannot say. Secretive perhaps.”

“Look!” said Esther.

“That woman. She is talking to the sentry about us.”

The woman’s voice floated towards them, indignant and angry.

“I declare … such lack of discipline. One does not feel safe! They … so close … just as though they were ordinary people!”

“Oh, you dark-eyed beauty!” murmured Carolan.

“If I had you here I would let you see whether or not we are ordinary people. I would have that satin petticoat off your back!”

“Yes, my dear,” said Marcus.

“Newgate is a good teacher; and found you an apt enough pupil, I’ll swear!”

“And doubtless you would protect her from my violence, and tell her how becoming was her satin garment, and how you had always adored black eyes!”

“What if I do adore black eyes! I worship green ones … particularly when they flash in fury … and jealousy perhaps? Oh, Carolan, can you not see that you are my woman and I am your man? Do not stamp your foot or I shall be unable to resist putting my arms round you here and now and kissing your angry mouth and your angry eyes…”

“Hush! Esther will hear.”

She turned from him.

The woman had walked away from the sentry; his face was red.

“You dogs!” he cried.

“What the hell do you think this is? A pleasure cruise? Down to your holes before you’re clamped into irons, every one of you!”

The black-eyed woman, for reasons best known to herself, had put an abrupt end to the hours of freedom.

Down in the women’s quarters the heat was only just bearable. The convicts lay gasping in their berths, some of them reduced to semi-consciousness by the poisoned air. Half an hour ago two of their number had been taken away; they had died the day before. They did not talk of them, but in the minds of every woman and child was the thought, “Shall I be carried out like that before the journey’s end?”

They were just out from Cape Town, and the weeks they had spent there had been a trying ordeal, hardened though they were. They had been kept down below for what seemed interminable days and nights. Fighting for air. listening to the creaking of the ship’s timbers, with that foul odour of her stinking bilges in their nostrils which sickened even the most insensitive, most of them had longed for death. But now the ship had taken in her stores; sheep and fowls, pigs, goats, all sorts of livestock and fresh fruit and vegetables had been put aboard her; and now she was ready to complete the voyage. This was a matter for rejoicing, but the death of those two had sobered them strangely, had temporarily drawn them closer to each other.

Flash Jane, a good deal thinner than she had been since they entered Cape Town, dark hollows under her eyes like saucers in her yellow-green face, no longer Flash just poor, sick, only half-alive Jane turned to Carolan and said with her habitual aggressiveness: “You never tell us nothing about yourself. How did a lady like you come to be here with a lot like us, eh?”

Was she spoiling for trouble? wondered Carolan. But as she looked at the poor shadow of that Flash Jane who had come aboard all those months ago, she felt an unexpected tenderness sweep over her, and for the moment it smothered that bitterness which had eaten into her. ringing all her thoughts and words.

“What do you care?” she said, but softly, gently.

Flash Jane spat neatly across the berth.

“Only wondered,” she muttered.

“Seemed a bit unnatural like … you and her…”

Carolan looked up into the blue-grey haze which always seemed to fill the crowded place; and she surprised herself by telling the woman what had led her here. She began with the visit to her father’s shop, and as she talked, silence fell all about her, and lack-lustre eyes were turned in her direction. She felt sympathy there in that sordid place. Nobody laughed, nobody jeered; many listened.