Mr Cadmus, page 15
Sidney took charge of the boat with great ease, and soon knew the tides and rivulets that swirled around the island. He had also heard stories of the amethysts for which the islands were famous and was determined to seek them out. On this bright morning, however, there came a splutter from beneath the boat, followed by a cough and what seemed a clearing of the throat. The engine fell silent.
‘Oh, Theo!’ Milly shouted. ‘What is the matter?’
‘A minor inconvenience, Milly dear. Look. We have Sidney with us. And here is our island salvation.’
Around the inlet came a small boat piloted by a young boy who had hired the craft to Theo, but was not at all sure of Sidney’s sea skills. He had come to check the strange young man’s sea-worthiness. Theo knew the boy’s accent and began to explain their situation.
‘Andiamo la … gli occhi viola.’ The boy crossed himself. ‘Il sequiranno.’
‘Occhi viola. Now we come to the heart of the matter. These purple eyes are interesting, young man. Questi occhi viola sono interessanti.’
‘Interessanti? No. No. Lasciamoli stare!’
Theo turned to Milly. ‘You see the islanders are very primitive.’
He crouched before the boy. ‘Ragazzo mio. Caldera e la mia isola. Occhi viola non possono farci male. Do you comprehend me? This is my territory. By right of family. And these violet eyes belong to me. They can do no possible harm.’
‘This is the problem,’ Sidney explained to Milly. ‘One of the islanders has explained it to me. The water is cursed by sea witches and demons with purple eyes. The boy is afraid to enter it.’
Theo sighed, lay down in the boat and stared up at the deep blue sky. ‘What can you do with savages?’ Then he stood up. ‘Occhi viola,’ he said to himself. ‘Purple eyes. What can they signify? Let me think.’ With one nimble move he leaped to the other side of the boat, and imitated a rolling motion over the side. ‘Can you dive like this?’ he asked the boy. ‘Puoi tuffarti così?’
‘Si, certo.’ He nodded vigorously to convey his assent in any language.
Theo took him to the side of the boat and engaged him in a conversation that Milly could not decipher, but from his gestures and expressions it obviously concerned money. Cadmus knew that even the superstitions of the people were soothed by coin. He was naturally concerned with the amethysts that were presumed to lie on the sea bed around Caldera. Theo had known of them since boyhood, but had once treated them with superstitious reverence in the same way as the other islanders. Some of the jewels were embedded in the rocks while others had spilled from wrecked galleons centuries before. But in this island region the amethyst was still sacred. Its purple was believed to be the most lustrous and deepest violet and the essence of the sea. As Theo put it to the boy, ‘l più intenso e brillante in assoluto e esprimesse l’essenza del mare.’ Such was their abundance, however, that some were green, or blue, or even red.
They came back day after day for a week, while Sidney explored the crags and headlands for suitable diving places. Milly continually warned him about the peril of tides and currents, but he showed her his compass and explored further afield. The third day he ventured out and did not return. The legend of the amethysts now took an ominous turn. The islanders believed that anyone who broke the geodes and took the jewels would incur the wrath of the lightning god who protected the stones; the amethysts would then in some way destroy the thief. It was an absurd story, but it was implicitly believed. Meanwhile Sidney, despite several searches, had not been found.
This superstition followed the members of the previous platoon who had died in quick succession in Little Camborne. It followed Maud Finch, who was popularly believed to own an amethyst brooch given to her by Theo as a wedding gift. The death of Phil Appleby was attributed to the small amethyst ring he wore on his thumb, which Theo had given him as payment for repairing his garden fence. This was the digit torn off by the merry-go-round. Then on the seventh day the Italian boy surfaced swiftly with a curious cry.
‘Here is the man,’ he shouted. ‘It is Siderney! Siderney!’ When the police boat arrived, and the corpse carefully brought to the surface, it was unmistakably that of Sidney. His death was quite out of the ordinary, however, since his mouth and nostrils were stuffed with green amethysts so that he could no longer breathe. Old stories were given fresh encouragement, and soon circulated around the island.
There was, for example, the legend of the green microscope. One revered physician, Doctor Rhadamantus had dwelled on the island for all of his life, and had made an especial study of the rare stones that washed over the beach. There were often tumults beneath the ocean, which were widely believed to be the residue of volcanic eruptions. This part of the sea was in fact well known to geologists for seismic interruptions, although the islanders called them by different names.
This physician was walking along the strand one quiet evening, some years ago, when he saw a sparkle in the sand – not a sparkle of sunlight but a glinting blue ray. He had read of amethysts to be found under the adjacent sea, but this particular stone caught his attention. It was warm to the touch, and when he put it to his ear he could sense the pounding of the waves. This was unusual enough to provoke his curiosity, and he held the fragment up to the sky. How could this be? The sky had become dark, and the clouds blood-red. When he then looked through the amethyst at the sea, it was as pale as milk, and peculiar creatures seemed to frolic in the foam. Rhadamantus maintained his composure, having listened to many anedcotes about the jewels, and speculated on the nature of the primaeval stone. There was no doubt that it was primordial. But how could it reflect strange images? It was a curious feature of the island that extravagant speculations were entertained side by side with primitive beliefs. The doctor rubbed and polished the green stone so that he could see no flaw in it, and when he put his eye up to it he was astonished by the multitude of stars reflected within it. They seemed to form spiral nebulae and regions of darkness spinning across the dark sky. He was so entranced that he was not at all sure where he was walking, and this was the origin of the legend that Doctor Rhadamantus had been lured by an amethyst over the cliff.
Another story of the amethyst was widely carried over the island in connection with a purple seagull. Sometime at the beginning of the last century a colony of gulls settled in the fissure between two sheer cliffs. The competition between them for food was intense, and any rare specimen was taken before any competitor could appear. On this occasion a roving gull caught a glimpse of what looked like a green egg, harbouring what delicacy? The gull carried it off to a hollow in the cliff where not even the keenest gull could spy it, and covered it with sticks and straw. But the egg seemed strangely quiet. It did not respond to the mature bird’s murmurings but instead, when it was broken open by the gull’s beak, the hatchling let out a strange sibilant hiss. And it was purple. On a small island this odd bird caused some sensation, and efforts were made to catch it. But it eluded capture, and seemed to take joy in pursuit and disappearance. It appeared in the oddest places, and seemed not to touch the diet of the ordinary gull. The islanders soon knew all about it, and young Theo tried without success to track it down.
Then there was another extraordinary development. According to the records kept by the Capuchin monks of a neighbouring island the bird grew and grew in height and stature until it was twice the size of the ordinary bird and had turned a deeper purple. There followed a further misadventure. The bird had kept aloof from its companions and professed disinterest for them; but then at about twilight on 4 May 1936 a sound of screaming and screeching alerted the inhabitants of Caldera. They rushed into their gardens, where the birds were kept in cages, and to their horror found the great green bird tearing and eviscerating its companions; how it had forced its way through the bars of the cages was not at all clear; but the islanders were more than ever convinced that it had supernatural powers.
The bird did not leave Caldera. It settled, and gave every attempt to control the other birds with a series of squawks and flourishes of its feathers. Some believed that the war had affected them and that the noise of bombs and shrapnel had rendered them delirious. But this seemed to be too strange a fear. A group of islanders solemnly carried a black cloth into the garden and draped it across the green bird’s nest. The creature made no noise. They carried it up to to Pilot Cliff, the highest point of all, and then without more words hurled it into the rocks and sea. It issued one piercing cry and somehow escaped the folds of the cloth. When it reappeared on the surface of the water, bobbing on the waves, the islanders were thrown into confusion and a certain amount of fear. Some of them fled the cliff-top, and took refuge among the tall grasses while above them the green bird took flight, and issued its sibilant murmur.
Chapter 21
In My Head
The death of Sidney had given Millicent what she called ‘the shakes’. Sensing her mood, Cadmus suggested an expedition around Caldera as a diversion. A small party of boats, hired by tourists visiting Sicily, had beached on the shore and Theo had agreed to assist their guide. ‘Now, ladies and gentlemen,’ he said, ‘we will begin our climb. As I told you, the path is still here. It will not be difficult. It will be easy!’
Theo knew where they were going. They were advancing upwards, brushing past the cliffs, to the highest part of the island close to the tower where he had been assaulted by the Englishman. It scarcely seemed possible that he had returned. He closed his eyes, and felt the same sun upon his face; the bees hummed, and the long grass touched his legs.
And here was the tower itself, still the colour of moss and earth.
‘Let’s go up,’ Milly said.
‘Oh no, it is too old. It will be dangerous.’ Theo looked to the tourists’ guide for confirmation.
‘Nonsense,’ she replied. ‘It is made of good stone.’
‘Stone crumbles.’
He crossed the threshold and looked up uncertainly at the winding staircase. He smelt something putrefying in the heat.
‘You look as if you have seen a ghost,’ Milly said.
‘Oh no, I’ve never been here before.’
‘That’s a funny answer,’ the guide remarked.
‘I mean, I have no reason to see anything.’
‘Come on, Theo.’ Millicent took the lead in climbing the stairs until they reached the open space at the top, where the Englishmen had confronted the boy Cadmus. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘I see no ghosts.’
‘I told you,’ Theo said. ‘There is none to be found here. This is just an old and rotting building.’ He went over to the arched recess that looked out towards the Tyrrhenian Sea. ‘If there is a chill in the air,’ he said, ‘it comes from the sea wind.’
As the party began its descent Cadmus passed the part of the forest where he had directed the English soldiers to the dying German. He could not make out the precise spot where the man had lain. But he hastened ahead, telling Millicent that she should hurry away with the others because such a place was a haven for snakes. On their way back to the boat he caught a glimpse of the ruin that had once been the farmhouse where he had lived with his parents and his brother. It still stood. He lingered on the old ground while the tourists ventured onto the boat.
‘We must catch up with the others,’ Milly said, sensing his unhappiness. Much to her surprise he knelt down and kissed the ground. ‘Whatever next?’ Milly asked him. ‘We are Episcopalians, not Papists!’
‘You may be. But I am Calderian!’
‘Oh, I suppose you have become a disciple of the reverend Tony.’
‘There is no need for blasphemy, Milly.’
It was quite by chance that a few days later Milly encountered the reverend in the marketplace of Olbla, on the eastern part of Caldera, fingering some silver crucifixes. ‘I had heard that you had come here,’ she said. ‘But no one could give me a reason.’
‘One reason lies before you. Silver is cheap here, compared to the notorious amethysts.’ At first he did not seem to remember her name. ‘No offence!’ he said.
‘None taken.’
‘Quits?’
She was not sure what he meant but she accepted the compliment with which it was offered.
‘I know you had the best of intentions, reverend, rescuing the church treasures from the heathen, but don’t you think you should make yourself known to the authorities?’
‘What did the Lord say, Miss—’
‘Swallow.’
‘There is no authority above the Lord our God, Miss Swallow. Praise him for ever and ever. Pay what belongs to Caesar and withold what belongs to Belial.’
‘Quite.’ She was not sure what he meant.
‘Naturally, I was very sorry to hear that Sidney had been taken up by a higher power.’
‘That was a terrible shock,’ Millicent said. ‘I practically broke down. But I took some honey and rallied.’
‘Did he say something? Anything?’
‘Not as far as I am aware.’ There was a look of relief on the reverend’s face.
‘But the heathen is still here,’ he told her.
‘Oh?’
‘I speak of your friend, Theodore Cadmus. He has set himself up as an expert. He has a mass of jewels.’
‘The amethysts?’
‘Of course. But you have to know where to find them.’
‘And I presume that Theo does?’
‘He has made a special study of them. Between you and me, that is why he returned to Caldera.’
‘Is that so? I can tell you something else. Maud told me all about it after she married him. She dropped her voice to a whisper – ‘he really wanted Sidney. If you know what I mean.’
‘Curiouser and curiouser.’
‘Of course we can’t prove any of this.’
‘Not unless—’
‘What?’
‘Unless you confronted him,’ he said. ‘As his especial confidante.’
‘He would rather cut out his tongue.’
‘Perhaps I can help you. As the minister here.’
‘Tony, may I speak frankly to you?’
‘You may speak as you so desire.’
‘I have been speaking to the people who own our farmhouse. The islanders do not consider you as minister of anything. They wish you to be gone.’
‘Tell them not to be concerned. I will be gone as soon as I can. Between you and me, I have accumulated some amethysts of my own.’
‘But surely they belong to the island?’
‘It is not the island’s collection. It is nobody’s collection. It is the collection of the sea and the waves and the foam and the sands of time.’
‘But what about the islanders?’
‘Savages.’
‘But aren’t the jewels still private property?’
Tony laughed. ‘Tell me what is private here? The echo from the caves? The snow on the peaks? The serpents on the beach? A lot of it is nonsense. Cadmus nonsense. But he is correct in one particular. There is a rare species of purple bird that flourishes here. And they have a strange affinity with the geodes and amethysts. When you find the birds, you find the jewels. I can see that this interests you.’
‘It is intriguing. But why should I not ask Theo’s help in finding them? He likes to think of himself as king of the island.’
So Tony and Milly decided that, with the help of Cadmus, they would begin a survey of the island by close questioning of the islanders, and it soon became apparent that there had now grown up a myriad of great purple birds, each with the same sibilant murmur and the same sequence of nesting places.
Cadmus already knew where to locate the usual song of the original purple bird, since after its capture it had returned to the same arbour. He had found some primitive recording equipment in an abandoned hospital in the middle of the island, and surreptitiously taped its peculiar call. This had been the reason for his success. Cadmus now agreed to assist them, promising himself that they were amateurs and that their efforts would amount to very little.
So the three of them, two days later, made their way to some evergreen oaks pressed close by cork oak trees, resembling a skull, where Cadmus believed the bird nested. Eventually it burst into melody in response to the taped song, and at that instant Cadmus took out an axe from his backpack and split the tree down the middle. The bird uttered a ferocious scream as a stream of purple stones cascaded from the wood. It launched an attack upon Cadmus, at which he yelled and ran down the hill. Tony and Milly, of more phlegmatic temperament, remained quite still and waited.
‘We are mad to stay here,’ Tony told her.
‘There is a method to it, dear Tony. Did you notice that Cadmus, despite his fear, ran down a particular path to a particular hollow?’
‘I was too distracted.’
‘But Cadmus was not so distracted. He has his eyes open for the prize.’
‘You mean?’
‘He thinks he knows the path to the jewels.’
‘I wish I had your brain, Milly.’
‘Be very careful what you wish for, Tony. Is that not the phrase?’
They followed the track that Cadmus had taken, descending further into dense vegetation. Tony had a fear of insects, and uttered a series of screams and yelps. They entered a cave plastered and decorated with florid iridescent feathers, one of which resembled a head-dress.
‘If I remember,’ Milly said, ‘Milton describes a region of sub-aqueous fire. I hope he was wrong.’ Tony did not know what she meant, and tried to concentrate upon the feathers that decorated the cave among the trees.
‘Now here is a question,’ Milly said. ‘Were the decorations made by men or birds?’
This alarmed them, for reasons which they did not wish to fathom. It occurred to Tony that they were entering some pagan domain, but the consequences were too frightful to contemplate. ‘Cadmus knew where he was going,’ Milly told him. ‘He simply disappeared from sight.’
