if.liveandletdie-第33节

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is　underwater　swim　to　the　island。
　Before　he　went　to　bed；　he　finally　decided　that　nothing　would　attack　him　unless　there　was　blood　in　the　water　or　unless　he　municated　fear　to　a　fish　that　threatened。　As　for　octopus；　scorpion　fish　and　morays；　he　would　just　have　to　watch　where　he　put　his　feet。　To　his　mind；　the　three…inch　spines　of　the　black　sea…eggs　were　the　greatest　hazard　to　normal　underwater　swimming　in　the　tropics　and　the　pain　they　caused　would　not　be　enough　to　interfere　with　his　plans。
　They　left　before　six　in　the　morning　and　were　at　Beau　Desert　by　half…past　ten。
　The　property　was　a　beautiful　old　plantation　of　about　a　thousand　acres　with　the　ruins　of　a　fine　Great　House　manding　the　bay。　It　was　given　over　to　pimento　and　citrus　inside　a　fringe　of　hardwoods　and　palms　and　had　a　history　dating　back　to　the　time　of　Cromwell。　The　romantic　name　was　in　the　fashion　of　the　eighteenth　century；　when　Jamaican　properties　were　called　Bellair；　Bellevue；　Boscobel；　Harmony；　Nymphenburg　or　had　names　like　Prospect；　Content　or　Repose。
　A　track；　out　of　sight　of　the　island　in　the　bay；　led　them　among　the　trees　down　to　the　little　beach…house。　After　the　week's　picnic　at　Manatee　Bay；　the　bathrooms　and　fortable　bamboo　furniture　seemed　very　luxurious　and　the　brightly　coloured　rugs　were　like　velvet　under　Bond's　hardened　feet。
　Through　the　slats　of　the　jalousies　Bond　looked　across　the　little　garden；　aflame　with　hibiscus；　bougainvillea　and　roses；　which　ended　in　the　tiny　crescent　of　white　sand　half　obscured　by　the　trunks　of　the　palms。　He　sat　on　the　arm　of　a　chair　and　let　his　eyes　go　on；　inch　by　inch；　across　the　different　blues　and　browns　of　sea　and　reef　until　they　met　the　base　of　the　island。　The　upper　half　of　it　was　obscured　by　the　dipping　feathers　of　the　palm　trees　in　the　foreground；　but　the　stretch　of　vertical　cliff　within　his　vision　looked　grey　and　formidable　in　the　half…shadow　cast　by　the　hot　sun。
　Quarrel　cooked　lunch　on　a　primus　stove　so　that　no　smoke　would　betray　them；　and　in　the　afternoon　Bond　slept　and　then　went　over　the　gear　from　London　that　had　been　sent　across　from　Kingston　by　Strangways。　He　tried　on　the　thin　black　rubber　frogman's　suit　that　covered　him　from　the　skull…tight　helmet　with　the　perspex　window　to　the　long　black　flippers　over　his　feet。　It　fitted　like　a　glove　and　Bond　blessed　the　efficiency　of　M's　'Q'　Branch。
　They　tested　the　twin　cylinders　each　containing　a　thousand　litres　of　free　air　pressed　to　two　hundred　atmospheres　and　Bond　found　the　manipulation　of　the　demand　valve　and　the　reserve　mechanism　simple　and　fool…proof。　At　the　depth　he　would　be　working　the　supply　of　air　would　last　him　for　nearly　two　hours　under　water。
　There　was　a　new　and　powerful　Champion　harpoon　gun　and　a　mando　dagger　of　the　type　devised　by　Wilkinsons　during　the　war。　Finally；　in　a　box　covered　with　danger…labels；　there　was　the　heavy　limpet　mine；　a　flat　cone　of　explosive　on　a　base；　studded　with　wide　copper　bosses；　so　powerfully　magnetized　that　the　mine　would　stick　like　a　clam　to　any　metal　hull。　There　were　a　dozen　pencil…shaped　metal　and　glass　fuses　set　for　ten　minutes　to　eight　hours　and　a　careful　memorandum　of　instructions　that　were　as　simple　as　the　rest　of　the　gear。　There　was　even　a　box　of　benzedrine　tablets　to　give　endurance　and　heightened　perception　during　the　operation　and　an　assortment　of　underwater　torches；　including　one　that　threw　only　a　tiny　pencil…thin　beam。
　Bond　and　Quarrel　went　through　everything；　testing　joints　and　contacts　until　they　were　satisfied　that　nothing　further　remained　to　be　done；　then　Bond　went　down　among　the　trees　and　gazed　and　gazed　at　the　waters　of　the　bay；　guessing　at　depths；　tracing　routes　through　the　broken　reef　and　estimating　the　path　of　the　moon；　which　would　be　his　only　point　of　reckoning　on　the　tortuous　journey。
　At　five　o'clock；　Strangways　arrived　with　news　of　the　Secatur。
　'They've　cleared　Port　Maria；'　he　said。　'They'll　be　here　in　ten　minutes　at　the　outside。　Mr。　Big　had　a　passport　in　the　name　of　Gallia　and　the　girl　in　the　name　of　Latrelle；　Simone　Latrelle。　She　was　in　her　cabin；　prostrate　with　what　the　negro　captain　of　the　Secatur　described　as　sea…sickness。　It　may　have　been。　Scores　of　empty　fish…tanks　on　board。　More　than　a　hundred。　Otherwise　nothing　suspicious　and　they　were　given　a　clean　bill。　I　wanted　to　go　on　board　as　one　of　the　Customs　team　but　I　thought　it　best　that　the　show　should　be　absolutely　normal。　Mr。　Big　stuck　to　his　cabin。　He　was　reading　when　they　went　to　see　his　papers。　How's　the　gear？'
　'Perfect；'　said　Bond。　'Guess　we'll　operate　tomorrow　night。　Hope　there's　a　bit　of　a　wind。　If　the　air…bubbles　are　spotted　we　shall　be　in　a　mess。'
　Quarrel　came　in。　'She's　ing　through　the　reef　now；　Cap'n。'
　They　went　down　as　close　to　the　shore　as　they　dared　and　put　their　glasses　on　her。
　She　was　a　handsome　craft；　black　with　a　grey　superstructure；　seventy　foot　long　and　built　for　speed　…　at　least　twenty　knots；　Bond　guessed。　He　knew　her　history；　built　for　a　millionaire　in　1947　and　powered　with　twin　General　Motors　Diesels；　steel　hull　and　all　the　latest　wireless　gadgets；　including　ship…to…shore　telephone　and　Decca　navigator。　She　was　wearing　the　Red　Ensign　at　her　cross…trees　and　the　Stars　and　Stripes　aft　and　she　was　making　about　three　knots　through　the　twenty…foot　opening　of　the　reef。
　She　turned　sharply　inside　the　reef　and　came　down　to　seaward　of　the　island。　When　she　was　below　it；　she　put　her　helm　hard　over　and　came　up　with　the　island　to　port。　Al　the　same　time　three　negroes　in　white　ducks　came　running　down　the　cliff　steps　to　the　narrow　jetty　and　stood　by　to　catch　lines。　There　was　a　minimum　of　backing　and　filling　before　she　was　made　fast　just　opposite　to　the　watchers　ashore；　and　the　two　anchors　roared　down　among　the　rocks　and　coral　scattered　round　the　island's　foundations　in　the　sand。　She　lay　well　secured　even　against　a　'Norther'。　Bond　estimated　there　would　be　about　twenty　feet　of　water　below　her　keel。
　As　they　watched；　the　huge　figure　of　Mr。　Big　appeared　on　deck。　He　stepped　on　to　the　jetty　and　started　slowly　to　climb　the　steep　cliff　steps。　He　paused　often；　and　Bond　thought　of　the　diseased　heart　pumping　laboriously　in　the　gieat　grey…black　body。
　He　was　followed　by　two　negro　members　of　the　crew　hauling　up　a　light　stretcher　on　which　a　body　was　strapped。　Through　his　glasses　Bond　could　see　Solitaire's　black　hair。　Bond　was　worried　and　puzzled　and　he　felt　a　tightening　of　the　heart　at　her　nearness。　He　prayed　the　stretcher　was　only　a　precaution　to　prevent　Solitaire　from　being　recognized　from　the　shore。
　Then　a　chain　of　twelve　men　was　established　up　the　steps　and　the　fish…tanks　were　handed　up　one　by　one。　Quarrel　counted　a　hundred　and　twenty　of　them。
　Then　some　stores　went　up　by　the　same　method。
　'Not　taking　much　up　this　time；'　mented　Strangways　when　the　operation　ceased。　'Only　half　a　dozen　cases　gone　up。　Generally　about　fifty。　Can't　be　staying　long。'
　He　had　hardly　finished　speaking　before　a　fish…tank；　which　their　glasses　showed　was　half　full　of　water　and　sand；　was　being　gingerly　passed　back　to　the　ship；　down　the　human　ladder　of　hands。　Then　another　and　another；　at　about　five…minute　intervals。
　'My　God；'　said　Strangways。　'They're　loading　her　up　already。　That　means　they'll　be　sailing　in　the　morning。　Wonder　if　it　means　they've　decided　to　clean　the　place　out　and　that　this　is　the　last　cargo。'
　Bond　watched　carefully　for　a　while　and　then　they　walked　quietly　up　through　the　trees；　leaving　Quarrel　to　report　developments。
　They　sat　down　in　the　living…room；　and　while　Strangways　mixed　himself　a　whisky…and…soda；　Bond　gazed　out　of　the　window　and　marshalled　his　thoughts。
　It　was　six　o'clock　and　the　fireflies　were　beginning　to　show　in　the　shadows。　The　pale　primrose　moon　was　already　high　up　in　the　eastern　sky　and　the　day　was　dying　swiftly　at　their　backs。　A　light　breeze　was　ruffling　the　bay　and　the　scrolls　of　small　waves　were　unfurling　on　the　white　beach　across　the　lawn。　A　few　small　clouds；　pink　and　orange　in　the　sunset；　were　meandering　by　overhead　and　the　palm　trees　clashed　softly　in　the　cool　Undertaker's　Wind。
　'Undertaker's　Wind；'　thought　Bond　and　smiled　wryly。　So　it　would　have　to　be　tonight。　The　only　chance；　and　the　conditions　were　so　nearly　perfect。　Except　that　the　shark…repellent　stuff　would　not　arrive　in　time。　And　that　was　only　a　refinement。　There　was　no　excuse。　This　was　what　he　had　travelled　two　thousand　miles　and　five　deaths　to　do。　And　yet　he　shivered　at　the　prospect　of　the　dark　adventure　under　the　sea　that　he　had　already　put　off　in　his　mind　until　tomorrow。　Suddenly　he　loathed　and　feared　the　sea　and　everything　in　it。　The　millions　of　tiny　antennae　that　would　stir　and　point　as　he　went　by　that　night；　the　eyes　that　would　wake　and　watch　him；　the　pulses　that　would　miss　for　the　hundredth　of　a　second　and　then　go　beating　quietly　on；　the　jelly　tendrils　that　would　grope　and　reach　for　him；　as　blind　in　the　light　as　in　the　dark。
　He　would　be　walking　through　thousands　of　millions　of　secrets。　In　three　hundred　yards；　alone　and　cold；　he　would　be　blundering　through　a　forest　of　mystery　towards　a　deadly　citadel　whose　guardians　had　already　killed　three　men。　He；　Bond；　after　a　week's　paddling　with　his　nanny　beside　him　in　the　sunshine；　was　going　out　tonight；　in　a　few　hours；　to　walk　alone　under　that　black　sheet　of　water。　It　was　crazy；　unthinkable。　Bond's