The Devil's Eye Read Online Free PDF Page B

they have aboard by now. Down in Bathurst Bay.’
    So, the talk of shell had started and she hadn’t left Thursday Island
    ‘I’m sure I have no idea, Tommy.’ Alice had put her head on her mother’s shoulder.
    Poor Tommy lowered his voice. ‘Mrs Porter, do you know the real reason I came back?’
    Maggie could hardly see his beardless face, as he still wore his boater.
    He said, ‘Mr James Clark’s orders.’
    ‘Oh?’
    ‘I can’t say.’
    ‘Well.’
    He whispered. ‘But some large pearls are also being fished down there, Mrs Porter.’
    Maggie yawned. ‘The business of a pearling fleet is mother-of-pearl, Tommy.’
    ‘Of course, Mrs Porter,’ said Poor Tommy. ‘But they will talk about pearls when we get there tomorrow evening.’ He thrust the glowing end of his cigarettesouth. ‘They might even show you the ones they’ve found. You being a lady.’
    Maggie was sure Alice was now asleep, and had decided to go to her cabin, but she had to ask, ‘Who will show me their pearls?’
    ‘The captains of the other schooners. They get together most evenings, as you know. They will talk.’
    ‘About shell, Tommy.’
    ‘And pearls.’
    She searched for his face in the gloom, but couldn’t find its expression. Women whispered about affairs of the heart; men talked breathlessly of pearls. Maggie supposed that it was because a pearl, like love, could transform a life in an instant. A fortune could hide in a pocket. Men fought over them and their trade in the fleets was secretive and often illicit.
    ‘Why would they show me their pearls?’
    ‘Captain Murray knows that ladies like pearls. If he has a few whiskies, he’ll trot them out for you, no doubt about it.’
    ‘And the band will play “Little Annie Rooney”.’
    ‘Ha ha. I don’t think so, Mrs Porter.’ The glowing end of Tommy’s cigarette danced in the dark. ‘You’ll be the only lady in the fleet and they’ll want to show you.’ He looked at her sideways. ‘I would.’ He tapped the railing. ‘If I’d found a good pearl.’
    ‘Thank you, Tommy.’
    ‘But, Mrs Porter, Mr James Clark wants to know about any pearls fished.’ He lowered his voice again.‘He has orders for Captain Porter.’ He seemed to look past her, to where the coloured men leant on the railing, watching the island slip away.
    She stared out over the channel to the receding lights of Port Kennedy. The concertina played and a banjo struck up. There was some laughing.
    ‘What would you do if you were given a big pearl?’ said Tommy. ‘Say sixty grains, round and hardly a dimple.’
    Exasperated, Maggie said, ‘It would belong to Mr James Clark.’
    ‘But if someone was to give it to you, say. For a birthday present. Would you keep it or sell it?’
    Someone was singing now, a deep Kanaka voice.
    ‘Sell it,’ said Maggie, listening to the song.
    Tommy slapped the railing. ‘Mrs Porter! You’d sell a pearl that was given to you as a present?’ His cigarette fell over the side and they watched the sparks descend into the dark and vanish in the wake.
    ‘What would it be worth, a pearl like that?’ she asked.
    Tommy whistled, staring out into the night as if the pearl was there before him on the black velvet of the sea.
    ‘Depends on the depth. The colour. A round pearl, flawless, might be worth one hundred pounds a grain. You could get six thousand pounds.’
    ‘I didn’t know you knew so much about pearls, Tommy.’
    ‘Mrs Porter! My father was a trader in New Guinea. Pearls and bêche-de-mer.’
    Of course. She said, ‘I’m terribly sorry about your father.’
    He didn’t reply. Poor Tommy.
    The lights of Thursday Island were winking out as the schooner gathered way and rounded the point. She saw, at last, a lamp lit in the Residence before it vanished. The moon broke free from a cloud, and the sea and sky were vivid against the sharp edges of black islands.
    The Kanaka repeated his dirge, the banjo played and a range of musical instruments had struck up