Chapter 39
Despite John’s objections, the party set out for Port au Prince by
climbing into the General’s sedan and floating gently down onto a small farm
outside the capital. Although it was early morning, farm hands were already out
and about and they came running when they saw the balloon.
“they know you then?” Mary asked as men came running up tot eh balloon.
“Yes, but not much about me, so it would be wise to remain silent.”
“They speak French then?” Mary asked, tilting her head.
“Not these men, but people in town will, yes.” Mary nodded in agreement.
When they were firmly on the ground they climbed out onto solid ground.
Liza smiled when she realized she had not set foot on solid ground since the Azores.
She wasn’t sure, but she felt almost wobbly, as if the ground was moving. She
looked at Mary, who had a look of alarm on her face.
“The ground..” she said, her tone serious.
“Yes” Said Will, dragging the chained up figure of Ingellsdin’s man
behind him. “Terrestrial Feet Syndrome is what it’s called; at least what we
called it. In a few minutes you’ll get used to it. Your legs are still adjusting for the slight
movement that is always occurring in a balloon.”
“You seem ok…” Liza said.
“This isn’t my first time” Will said with a large smile.
“Well, this is hardly-“
“Come on now!” John said from up front. “The men say we can borrow a
wagon. We’ll get to town much faster.”
“And the telegraph office?” Liza shouted, brushing off Will’s offered
hand and making her way unsteadily towards John.
“They have told me the address. It is not far, come along.”
Twenty minutes later they were in the capital of Haiti, the bustling Port
au Prince. People, noises and color swirled around them. It was a world far
away from the dull grey streets of London, and gone were the black dress that
so many Englishmen wore. Here there was clothing and material of all colors,
many of multiple colors. Men strode by in clean white shirts and pants of every
shade imaginable. Women brushed by in outsized dresses in loud fabrics.
Everywhere there were people, busy going places, selling goods, and buying
goods. And all around them were the shouts of street vendors, the honking of a
few desperate automobiles trying to make their way through streets crowded with
horses, mules and donkeys, and, of course, people.
It struck Liza that nearly everyone she saw had skin a shade of brown,
from almost black to the lightest of cinnamon coloring. No one looked the same,
every hue imaginable was on display.
“Amazing.” She said to John and Mary, who were upfront with her, John was
driving. “The world’s only African Republic.”
“If you don’t count Liberia” Mary said with a smile.
“Yes, well, still, so remarkable. These people, able to govern themselves
under democracy, amazing.”
“Not so amazing, they are people after all…” John said.
“Well,yes, of course, I did not mean-“
“I know Liza, I am only chiding you a little. Besides, it is not exactly
paradise. True democracy does not exist here more than anywhere else, and even
less so for most. Here the strong do what they can-“
“- the weak suffer what they must!” Mary said and laughed. “Yes, John, I
read Thucydides too.”
“Is it that bad?” Liza asked.
“There is tremendous poverty here.” John said matter of factly.
“Yes, well in London as well.”
“Hmmm, perhaps, but I wager poverty in London would be comfort here.
Still, it is all relative, yes? And here we are, the telegraph office.”
Will and Moto stayed with the prisoner in the cart while Mary, Liza, the
General and John went into the office. Inside the air was still and the sound
of the street was distant. A clerk came up to the window and smiled. Liza gave
a carefully written note to John, who arranged for the clerk to have it sent to
the British war office.
Liza and the General had worked on it late into the night. It read:
HOLD CONTRACTS.
INGELLSDIN DOES NOT HAVE GOODS. WE DO, WILL CONTACT W/I 5 DAYS
The clerk took the note and returned a moment later with a receipt. The message
had gone out. It was all they could do.
The group left the office and went back into the street. Although Liza
had argued voraciously to be the one to talk to the prisoner, the rest had agreed
that any message might have more weight if it came from the General. So when
the prisoner was manhandled out of the cart it was the General he faced.
“Well, see here, young man,” The general began, “It is your lucky day,
perhaps. Up there certain death waited for you, now you have a chance to earn
your freedom.”
“I will never tell you anything!” The man replied in a heavy accent.
“That is acceptable.” The general said ‘ But we are hoping you can tell
your employer a message for us. Tell him that we now have the contracts with
both the Arawak and the Navassians and that if he knows what is good for him he
will slink back to the rock from which he crawled out of. Do you think you can
tell him this?”
The man nodded.
“Well?” the general continued. “Can you?”
The man gave a slight sigh. “Yes.”
“Yes what?” The General was playing like a cat with a mouse now, but
appeared frightfully serious.
The man gritted his teeth and all but spat out “Yes, sir!”
“Good lad, now off you run!”
The man did indeed run, scrambling down the street until out of sight.
“I still don’t see how that will help, it will only serve to warn your
enemy.” John said “That man will find perhaps another telegraph or circle around
to this one and then it is all over.”
“Perhaps, but hopefully not” Liza replied. “For now when Ingellsdin tries
to go to the War Ministry, they will be waiting for him.”
John did not say anything but just smiled and shook his head.
“I told you not to mess with her” Mary said. “Now, let’s grab a decent lunch
and then…?”
“Back to London, of course!” Liza said. “We’ll be back just in time for
the season too!”
Mary’s mouth fell open and Liza laughed. “I am joking, there will be a
great amount of work to be done to hammer out an agreement!”
Mary and Liza dissolved into laughter as the men stood by with slightly
puzzled looks.
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