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.And herself? He could swear beads of sweat had appeared on her shoulders, even beneath the oil.And she had sighed.'And you will not be whipped,' he said.'I give you my word.'She smiled.'I will not be whipped in any event, Mr Hilton.The Emperor left tins night, and will not return for at least a month.''Left?' He sat up in dismay.'He campaigns, monsieur.Against Petion.'The name was familiar enough.'I had supposed they shared the same dream.Did not Petion fight with Christophe, under Toussaint, against the French?''Indeed, monsieur.But he is not black like us.His father was a white man.He is what we call a mulatto.And if he wished to be free of the French, he did not wish to be ruled by a black man.He has declared the south independent, and would make himself master of all Haiti.So the Emperor must defeat him, and this is difficult, where there are so many forests, so many mountains.''But the Emperor will defeat him?''Of course,' Aimee said.It was as simple as that, to the residents of Sans Souci.'You are well, Richard Hilton.' The Emperor stood before his desk, hands clasped behind his back.He wore uniform, and looked tired.As well he might, Dick supposed.He had campaigned for some two months, and had apparently only returned to his palace the previous day.And immediately summoned his guest.Or was it his prisoner?'I am as well as ever in my life, sire.Or perhaps, better than ever before in my life.No man could have been cared for as I have been these last nine months.' Could it really be nine months? It was July.The sea breeze had warmed, and rain clouds were gathering above the mountains.'That pleases me,' Christophe said.He walked round the desk, and one of his secretaries hastily pulled back his chair for him.'Sit.'Another secretary held a chair for Dick.He sat, carefully, adjusting his white breeches as he felt the shoulders of his blue coat brushing the back of the chair.He wore uniform, for the simple reason that everyone in Sans Souci wore uniform; Christophe's tailors apparently did now know how to cut civilian clothes.'And do you now look in the mirror without a shudder?''No, sire.I doubt I will ever be able to do that.'Christophe gazed at him for some seconds.And then nodded.'There is news, from Europe.The French emperor, Napoleon, has escaped from Elba and returned to France.''My God,' Dick said.'It will mean a resumption of the war.''And a resumption, perhaps, of Bonaparte's power,' Christophe said, thoughtfully.'The same ship which brought me that news brought inquiries after Richard Hilton.We have had several such inquiries.'Dick frowned.'You never said so.''You had sufficient cause for distress, in regaining your health,' Christophe said.'Then my family know I am here?'Christophe smiled.'I have told no one you are here.''But'I supposed it was your wish, Richard Hilton.You have never asked to have your family informed.That is strange.But my agents also tell me that you are disgraced in Jamaica, sought for a crime, perhaps.''A crime?''An assault upon a young girl.A white man's crime, Richard.I do not inquire.Perhaps it was the cause of your leaving Jamaica, perhaps not.I will inform your family that you are alive and well, should you wish it.'Dick hesitated.Judith had told her mother, and Harriet, in her anger, had brought a charge.No doubt Richard Hilton, of Hilltop in Jamaica, would survive such a scandal, and even a court case, by payment of a fine.But did he wish to be Richard Hilton of Hilltop? Could he ever be Richard Hilton of Hilltop again? Ellen would never forgive him.Poor Ellen.She had travelled four thousand miles to meet disaster, and must travel four thousand miles back again.Well, then, what of the plantation? No doubt it would be sold.Or managed by Tony.There was the answer.It would be managed by Tony.But he had ordered Tony from the plantation.Only Josh, and Boscawen knew that.No doubt Tony would be able to come to some arrangement with both Josh and Boscawen.And Tony was much more of a planter, in spirit, than himself.Because he had never wanted to rule, and even less wanted to rule now.Was even less able to rule, now.Having seen what his slaves could become, were they given the chance.Christophe was smiling.'You do not choose to inform them.''I have been happy here, these last few months,' Dick confessed.'Happier than I can recall.I was never happy as a planter.Or even before.''Why is that?'Dick hesitated.'I think I have always been too aware of my name.I have always felt I was not acting the part.Here, I cannot act the part, and therefore I am not perpetually worried about it.''Honestly said,' Christophe remarked.'But I have no doubt that you are a Hilton.What of your mother? Do you not wish to inform her that you are still alive?''Yes.But not now.I would like to wait a while.'Christophe nodded.'Yet will there be inquiries about this white man who is my friend, once the fact is widely known.They will ask who you are.What will I tell them?''Whatever you like.So long as they do not learn my name.''Ah.Yet they will want a name.' Christophe leaned back and gave a bellow of laughter.'I will tell them you are an English soldier of fortune, by name Matthew Warner.There is a name, Richard Hilton.''You know of the Warners?''I know a great deal.And you will tell me more.' He got up, and the humour faded from his face.'But I said the truth, when I described you as a Warner, an English soldier of fortune come to fight at my side.We are going on a journey, you and I.You are well enough to travel, my surgeons tell me.You are as well, or better, than ever in your life.''Except for my face.' But his heart was pounding.How long had he waited, to leave Sans Souci?'Where no one knows you with any other face, Matthew Warner—for your name comes into being as of now—no one will find anything to remark on.Come.Our escort is waiting.'Dick wondered if he should ask permission to say goodbye to Aimee.The girl had become part of him during the past few weeks.But he did not suppose Christophe would be interested, or appreciative, of such a tender emotion [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]