if.liveandletdie-第36节

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　Then　he　saw　the　cave　that　the　boulder　had　hidden。
　It　was　really　almost　a　door　into　the　base　of　the　island。　If　Bond　had　not　been　swimming　for　his　life　he　could　have　walked　in。　As　it　was；　he　dived　straight　through　the　opening　and　only　stopped　when　several　yards　separated　him　from　the　glimmering　entrance。
　Then　he　stood　upright　on　the　soft　sand　and　switched　on　his　torch。　A　shark　might　conceivably　e　in　after　him　but　in　the　confined　space　it　would　be　almost　impossible　for　it　to　bring　its　underslung　mouth　to　bear　on　him。　It　would　certainly　not　e　in　with　a　rush　for　even　the　shark　is　frightened　of　hazarding　its　tough　skin　among　rocks；　and　he　would　have　plenty　of　chance　of　going　for　its　eyes　with　his　dagger。
　Bond　shone　his　torch　on　the　ceiling　and　sides　of　the　cave。　It　had　certainly　been　fashioned　or　finished　by　man。　Bond　guessed　that　it　had　been　dug　outwards　from　somewhere　in　the　centre　of　the　island。
　'At　least　another　twenty　yards　to　go；　men；'　Bloody　Morgan　must　have　said　to　the　slave　overseers。　And　then　the　picks　would　have　burst　suddenly　through　to　the　sea　and　a　welter　of　arms　and　legs　and　screaming　mouths；　gagged　for　ever　with　water；　would　have　hurtled　back　into　the　rock　to　join　the　bodies　of　other　witnesses。
　The　great　boulder　at　the　entrance　would　have　been　put　in　position　to　seal　the　seaward　exit。　The　Shark　Bay　fisherman　who　suddenly　disappeared　six　months　before　must　have　one　day　found　it　rolled　away　by　a　storrn　or　by　the　tidal　wave　following　a　hurricane。　Then　he　had　found　the　treasure　and　had　known　he　would　need　help　to　dispose　of　it。　A　white　man　would　cheat　him。　Better　go　to　the　great　negro　gangster　in　Harlem　and　make　the　best　terms　he　could。　The　gold　belonged　to　the　black　men　who　had　died　to　hide　it。　It　should　go　back　to　the　black　men。
　Standing　there；　swaying　in　the　slight　current　hi　the　tunnel；　Bond　guessed　that　one　more　barrel　of　cement　had　splashed　into　the　mud　of　the　Harlem　River。
　It　was　then　that　he　heard　the　drums。
　Out　amongst　the　big　fish　he　had　heard　a　soft　thunder　in　the　water　that　had　grown　as　he　entered　the　cave。　But　he　had　thought　it　was　only　the　waves　against　the　base　of　the　island；　and　anyway　he　had　had　other　things　to　think　about。
　But　now　he　could　distinguish　a　definite　rhythm　and　the　sound　boomed　and　swelled　around　him　in　a　muffled　roar　as　if　he　himself　was　imprisoned　inside　a　vast　kettle…drum。
　The　water　seemed　to　tremble　with　it。　He　guessed　its　double　purpose。　It　was　a　great　fish…call　used；　when　intruders　were　about；　to　attract　and　excite　the　fish　still　further。　Quarrel　had　told　him　how　the　fishermen　at　night　beat　the　sides　of　their　canoes　with　the　paddle　to　wake　and　bring　the　fish。　This　must　be　the　same　idea。　And　at　the　same　time　it　would　be　a　sinister　Voodoo　warning　to　the　people　on　shore；　made　doubly　effective　when　the　dead　body　was　washed　up　on　the　following　day。
　Another　of　Mr。　Big's　refinements；　thought　Bond。　Another　spark　thrown　off　by　that　extraordinary　mind。
　Well；　at　least　he　knew　where　he　was　now。　The　drums　meant　that　he　had　been　spotted。　What　would　Strangways　and　Quarrel　think　as　they　heard　them？　They　would　just　have　to　sit　and　sweat　it　out。　Bond　had　guessed　the　drums　were　some　sort　of　trick　and　he　had　made　them　promise　not　to　interfere　unless　the　Secalur　got　safely　away。　That　would　mean　that　all　Bond's　plans　had　failed。　He　had　told　Strangways　where　the　gold　was　hidden　and　the　ship　would　have　to　be　intercepted　on　the　high　seas。
　Now　the　enemy　was　alerted；　but　would　not　know　who　he　was　nor　that　he　was　still　alive。　He　would　have　to　go　on　if　only　to　stop　Solitaire　at　all　costs　from　sailing　in　the　doomed　ship。
　Bond　looked　at　his　watch。　It　was　half　an　hour　after　midnight。　So　far　as　Bond　was　concerned；　it　might　have　been　a　week　since　he　started　his　lonely　voyage　through　the　sea　of　dangers。
　He　felt　the　Beretta　under　his　rubber　skin　and　wondered　if　it　was　already　ruined　by　the　water　that　had　got　in　through　the　rent　made　by　the　barracuda's　teeth。
　Then；　the　roar　of　the　drums　getting　louder　every　moment；　he　moved　on　into　the　cave；　his　torch　throwing　a　tiny　pinpoint　of　light　ahead　of　him。
　He　had　gone　about　ten　yards　when　a　faint　glimmer　showed　in　the　water　ahead　of　him。　He　dowsed　the　torch　and　went　cautiously　towards　it。　The　sandy　floor　of　the　cave　started　to　move　upwards　and　with　every　yard　the　light　grew　brighter。　Now　he　could　see　dozens　of　small　fish　playing　around　him　and　ahead　the　water　seemed　full　of　them；　attracted　into　the　cave　by　the　light。　Grabs　peered　from　the　small　crevices　in　the　rocks　and　a　baby　octopus　flattened　itself　into　a　phosphorescent　star　against　the　ceiling。
　Then　he　could　make　out　the　end　of　the　cave　and　a　wide　shining　pool　beyond　it；　the　white　sandy　bottom　as　bright　as　day。　The　throb　of　the　drums　was　very　loud。　He　stopped　in　the　shadow　of　the　entrance　and　saw　that　the　surface　was　only　a　few　inches　away　and　that　lights　were　shining　down　into　the　pool。
　Bond　was　in　a　quandary。　Any　further　step　and　he　would　be　in　full　view　of　anyone　looking　at　the　pool。　As　he　stood；　debating　with　himself；　he　was　horrified　to　see　a　thin　red　cloud　of　blood　spreading　beyond　the　entrance　from　his　shoulder。　He　had　forgotten　the　wound；　but　now　it　began　to　throb；　and　when　he　moved　his　arm　the　pain　shot　through　it。　There　was　also　the　thin　stream　of　bubbles　from　the　cylinders；　but　he　hoped　these　were　just　creeping　up　to　burst　unnoticed　at　the　lip　of　the　entrance。
　Even　as　he　drew　back　a　few　inches　into　his　hole；　his　future　was　settled　for　him。
　Above　his　head　there　was　a　single　huge　splash　and　two　negroes；　naked　except　for　the　glass　masks　over　their　faces；　were　on　to　him；　long　daggers　held　like　lances　in　their　left　hands。
　Before　his　hand　reached　the　knife　at　his　belt　they　had　seized　both　his　arms　and　were　hauling　him　to　the　surface。
　Hopelessly；　helplessly；　Bond　let　himself　be　man…handled　out　of　the　pool　on　to　flat　sand。　He　was　pulled　to　his　feet　and　the　zips　of　his　rubber　suit　were　torn　open。　His　helmet　was　snatched　off　his　head　and　his　holster　from　his　shoulder　and　suddenly　he　was　standing　among　the　debris　of　his　black　skin；　like　a　flayed　snake；　naked　except　for　his　brief　swimming…trunks。　Blood　oozed　down　from　the　jagged　hole　in　his　left　shoulder。
　When　his　helmet　came　off　Bond　was　almost　deafened　by　the　shattering　boom　and　stutter　of　the　drums。　The　noise　was　in　him　and　all　around　him。　The　hastening　syncopated　rhythm　galloped　and　throbbed　in　his　blood。　It　seemed　enough　to　wake　all　Jamaica。　Bond　grimaced　and　clenched　his　senses　against　the　buffeting　tempest　of　noise。　Then　his　guards　turned　him　round　and　he　was　faced　with　a　scene　so　extraordinary　that　the　sound　of　the　drums　receded　and　all　his　consciousness　was　focused　through　his　eyes。
　In　the　foreground；　at　a　green　baize　card…table；　littered　with　papers；　in　a　folding　chair；　sat　Mr。　Big；　a　pen　in　his　hand；　looking　incuriously　at　him。　A　Mr。　Big　in　a　well…cut　fawn　tropical　suit；　with　a　white　shirt　and　black　knitted　silk　tie。　His　broad　chin　rested　on　his　left　hand　and　he　looked　up　at　Bond　as　if　he　had　been　disturbed　in　his　office　by　a　member　of　the　staff　asking　for　a　raise　in　salary。　He　looked　polite　but　faintly　bored。
　A　few　steps　away　from　him；　sinister　and　incongruous；　the　scarecrow　effigy　of　Baron　Samedi；　erect　on　a　rock；　gaped　at　Bond　from　under　its　bowler　hat。
　Mr。　Big　took　his　hand　off　his　chin；　and　his　great　golden　eyes　looked　Bond　over　from　top　to　toe。
　'Good　morning；　Mister　James　Bond；'　he　said　at　last；　throwing　his　flat　voice　against　the　dying　crescendo　of　the　drums。　'The　fly　has　indeed　been　a　long　time　ing　to　the　spider；　or　perhaps　I　should　say　〃the　minnow　to　the　whale〃。　You　left　a　pretty　wake　of　bubbles　after　the　reef。'
　He　leant　back　in　his　chair　and　was　silent。　The　drums　softly　thudded　and　boomed。
　So　it　was　the　fight　with　the　octopus　that　had　betrayed　him。　Bond's　mind　automatically　registered　the　fact　as　his　eyes　moved　on　past　the　man　at　the　table。
　He　was　in　a　rock　chamber　as　big　as　a　church。　Half　the　floor　was　taken　up　with　the　clear　white　pool　from　which　he　had　e　and　which　verged　into　aquamarine　and　then　blue　near　the　black　hole　of　the　underwater　entrance。　Then　there　was　the　narrow　strip　of　sand　on　which　he　was　standing　and　the　rest　of　the　floor　was　smooth　flat　rock　dotted　with　a　few　grey　and　white　stalagmites。
　Some　way　behind　Mr。　Big；　steep　steps　mounted　towards　a　vaulted　ceiling　from　which　short　limestone　stalactites　hung　down。　From　their　white　nipples　water　dripped　intermittently　into　the　pool　or　on　to　the　points　of　the　young　stalagmites　that　rose　towards　them　from　the　floor。
　A　dozen　bright　arc　lights　were　fixed　high　up　on　the　walls　and　reflected　golden　highlights　from　the　naked　chests　of　a　group　of　negroes　standing　to　his　left　on　the　stone　floor　rolling　their　eyes　and　watching　Bond；　their　teeth　showing　in　delighted　cruel　grins。
　Round　their　black　and　pink　feet；　in　a　debris　of　broken　timber　and　rusty　iron　hoops；　mildewed　strips　of　leather　and　disintegrating　canvas；　was　a　blazing　sea　of　gold　coin…yards；　piles；　cascades　of　round　golden　specie　from　which　the　black　legs　rose　as　if　they　had　been　halted　in　the　middle　of　a　walk　through　flame。
　Beside　them　were　piled　row　upon　row　of　shallow　wooden　trays。　There　were　some　on　the　floor　partly　filled　with　gold　coin；　and　at　the　bo