[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.She grew to hate and fear the sound of bells.She managed to do a little exploring on her own, usually on days when Cyrus was away from the island.She discovered that his “happy natives” were a strange tribe indeed.In out-of-the-way places, she happened upon pagan altars etched with the hood of the cobra and odd hieroglyphics.She might have been fooled into thinking these were relics from ancient times, had some of the altars not held the bloody, partially charred remains of recent sacrifices.Then there were the ships.From the highest point on the island, she could see a natural harbor at the north end of Elephanta.The first time she spied a tall mast at anchor there, her heart pounded with excitement.She was sure it was the Madagascar and that Zack had come back to take her away.She worked up the courage to ask Cyrus about the ship that evening.He gave her a cold look and said, “Do not meddle in what does not concern you, Sister Persia! Tend to your prayers and your ministering to the sick.You saw no ship.And you will not go to the hill again!”Of course she went again, and of course she saw more ships.One day she took Cyrus’s spyglass along.Through its powerful lens, she could see that, under the watchful eye of armed guards, men of the island were unloading great barrels.Persia could think of nothing so valuable that it would have to be guarded here on this isolated island.Pearls, perhaps? She had heard of Oriental pearl pirates from her father.Suddenly she took down the spyglass and blinked rapidly.No! It couldn’t be! But, alas, she knew it was all too possible.Her father had told her, too, about the opium trade with China.The strong drug was now an illegal import in India.But too many natives had become dependent upon it.Opium was a highly profitable black market commodity.She scoffed at her wild imaginings.If illegal traffic in drugs was being carried on right here on Elephanta Island, surely Cyrus would find out about it and put an immediate stop to it.Then a colder hand clutched her heart.What if he already knew? If that were the case, she was in very real danger now.She hurried down from the hill.Cyrus must not find out she had gone back there against his orders.When she returned to the bungalow, visitors were waiting: Mr.Cunningham, the ice agent, and his wife.Cyrus had returned, too.And although he treated her with the utmost kindness in front of their guests, she could see the cold accusation in his eyes.“Mr.Cunningham and I will leave you ladies to talk now, my dear,” Cyrus said shortly after she arrived.“I want to show him some of the fine crops our people have grown.He’s promised to get us the best possible price at harvesttime.”Persia felt flustered and uncomfortable in Grace Cunningham’s presence.She had not seen the plump little lady since the night of the ball at the Club in Bombay.Persia was sure that there had been much gossip passed around about her after that, thanks to the maharajah and his unwanted advances and to the fact that she’d arrived with one man and departed with another.But the gray-haired lady put her at ease immediately.“My dear Mrs.Blackwell, you have absolutely biossomed in the past weeks.Your cheeks are so rosy! Life on Elephanta must agree with you.”Persia knew the woman was only being tactful.She replied with an equally tactful answer.“Thank you, Mrs.Cunningham.It’s kind of you to say so.”“Do call me Grace, Persia dear.”Indira came in then with an elegant silver tea service.Persia poured with the innate refinement of a born hostess and handed one of the china cups to her guest.“Oh, it is such a pleasure to see this place! I know Reverend Blackwell must be much more comfortable here than in that humble cottage he and Hannah occupied for so many years.It’s nice to see the dear man living so well.”“Yes,” Persia answered.“He did go through a trying time when Sister Hannah died, I’m sure.The fire and all.It must have been dreadful.”Mrs.Cunningham adjusted her wire-rimmed spectacles and peered hard at her hostess.“Fire, my dear? What fire?”“Why, the one in which his first wife died.Didn’t you see the charred remains of the old place when you came up the path?”“Of course.But Hannah didn’t die in the fire.” Mrs.Cunningham saw Persia’s frown and added, “Did she? I understood that Reverend Blackwell had the place burned down after, for fear whatever strange malady took her might spread.”Persia sipped her tea to hide the confusion she feared the other woman might read on her face.Why would Cyrus tell her his wife had burned to death if she hadn’t? And Indira had told the same tale.“Grace, did you know Hannah well?”“Oh, my dear, yes! Why, we were in school together.We were the best of friends even before she married.People used to say that the two ambassadors’ daughters—Hannah and I—were like peas in the proverbial pod.We were inseparable until her husband decided to move her here to this island.I missed her so after that!”Persia sat stunned.Hannah, an ambassador’s daughter? A well-brought-up and educated young lady? None of this made any sense.Cyrus had told an entirely different story.But why would he lie to her? On the other hand, why would Grace Cunningham?“What’s wrong, Persia dear? You looked so strange suddenly.”Persia tried to smile away her guest’s concern
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]