Chapter 10:

I put a finger to my lips, silencing Ishwari and Conseil, and then carefully peered out from behind the branches. Against the background of the illuminated window, I saw the black silhouettes of Miss Jones and one of the soldiers. Miss Jones stood unnaturally ridged, clinging to the railing, and the soldier leaned over the balcony looking for something below.

Through the rustle of leaves, I could hear two voices – shrill feminine and low masculine, but I could not make out what they were talking about. Finally, Miss Jones and the soldier went back to the room, and I commanded:

"Run!"

We ran deep into the forest, away from the palace, choosing the narrowest and darkest of the pathways. I felt eyes on my back, but when I looked back there was no one on the balcony. Soon, the path turned, and the thick foliage finally hid us from the Palace de Carvalho. The forest was already completely dark, the lights of the palace could no longer be seen, and if not for the moon, pouring its milky light from the west, from the coast, we would not be able to see the path nor each other.

Soon the path came to an end, the forest turned into wild thickets of acacia and banyan, and we slowed to be cautious. Unfortunately, Princess Ishwari's soft silk shoes were not suitable for traveling on rocks, roots and mounds. Pretty quickly, Conseil was fortunate enough to stumble into another oath, and we walked along it in single file – first my servant, then Ishwari, and then I held the rear. The path twisted around thickets of tall grass, in which cicadas chanted, but it led us in the right direction – to the south-west, to Anjuna. I still could not hear anyone following us. I hoped that the soldier and Miss Jones did not see us from the balcony, and it took time and a lot of people to comb through the whole forest and its surroundings.

Before us, tall trees leapt up, and the smell of the river. There were only about a hundred toises (French unit of measurement) left before Anjuna when Conseil collapsed suddenly as if knocked down.

At first, I feared he was dead. His eyes were closed, his face pale in the moonlight. I fell to my knees, pulled his shirt aside and put my ear to his chest – and at that moment some incredibly fast, incredibly small object flew past me without a sound and sank into the tall grass.

Conseil's heart beat. Quiet, but smooth and strong.

Here, we were caught between two fires.

I rummaged my hand in the grass, where the moonlight was reflected for an instant, and I found a warm glass cone about an inch in length.

Ishwari crouched beside me.

"Is he ok?" She asked in a whisper.

"He was shot. An electric bullet – this," and I handed her the small glass cone.

She took the bullet, and then stared at me with anxious glittering eyes.

I looked up. The night was dark, and it brought with it a sense of danger. Tall trees by the river rustled in the wind, ominous. I felt eyes on me again – a cold gaze, staring through me – like the sensation of a poisonous spider crawling over my skin.

"Somewhere, there is a shooter from the Nautilus, and maybe not just one," I said. "They will not shoot at you, but they may accidentally miss. You better stay away from me. I will try and drag Conseil to those trees, under the protection of the branches. And we will likely try and negotiate."

I did not have time to do anything, not even grab Conseil by the shoulders. Ishwari proudly straightened and loudly, imperatively screamed a few words in a language that I had previously heard only from Nemo and his people.

I was stunned.

"What are you doing, princess?! In three minutes, there will be British soldiers!"

She stared at me in horror and pressed her hands to her mouth.

But good luck had left us. In the distance, there was a male voice, sharp as a whistle, clearly giving commands.

I looked at Conseil, at Ishwari, at the wooded shore of Anjuna. I knew that if something happened to Conseil, I would never forgive myself. But there was no way out – I could not carry him by myself and if would not change his fate in any way if I stayed near him. Firstly, without Princess Ishwari near him, struck down by an electric bullet, he did not look guilty, rather looked a victim, which meant that the British, at least I hoped, would not harm him.

I turned to the girl.

"Run!"

We rushed headlong down the path to the band of trees that marked the shore, to the shaky wooden footbridges thrown across the river, to the row of fishing boats lying on the shore. There was no time to be choosy – I pushed the first boat into the water which looked relatively strong. The princess curled up on the bow of the boat, clamping her mouth shut with her palms, I sat down at the oars. Male voices, English voices, sounded closer, then I heard a shout – it seems they had found Conseil. With a few powerful strikes with the oars I led the boat into the middle of the river. I prayed for only one thing, that the soldiers would not be on the shore before the bend in the Anjuna river. Again, sounded shouts, a gunshot thundered, and everything went quiet.

Anjuna's width did not exceed a dozen toises; I think I can pass this river. The trees growing on its banks closed their branches over our heads, forming a high arch. Moonlight barely penetrated their weave.

I rowed with powerful measured movements, trying to stick to the middle of the stream. According to my calculations, we should be through the Anjuna in ten to fifteen minutes. The oarlocks squeaked sharply, the water splashed softly, parted by the boat, trees rustled overhead – but no matter how hard I listened, I heard nothing of a pursuit or anyone nearby. We were alone between the dark water and the dark branches, and I guessed where the riverbed was rather than saw it. Perhaps our pursuers were off our track or engaged in a battle with the shooter from Nemo's team. In any case, fate gave us another chance to slip away.

The river made a smooth turn to the south, the banks moved further away, the canopy above us opened – and I again saw in the sky the bright half-moon, and our surroundings were flooded in milky-white light. I turned to Ishwari. The princess no longer trembled, curled up like a frightened animal, she sat on the bow of the boat motionless and straight, like a statue, and the look on her face became soft and dreamy.

Probably the poor girl thought she would soon be reunited with her father. That very soon – she would see the electric glow of the Nautilus's searchlight in the lagoon approaching in front of us. I could not bring myself to tell her it was not so. I knew that Captain Nemo would not leave his people in the hands of the British, that he would try to rescue them – or exchange his life for theirs. But why would Spender have the life of Prince Dakkar when his intention was to have the Nautilus? I had no doubt that the colonel would violate any agreement made and break any oath in order to seize the submarine, which was ahead of its time by a good hundred years.

I concede, in this moment despair once again fell on me. In the heat of escape and the chase I was distracted from the terrible situation in which Captain Nemo and his people found themselves, but now nothing prevented the flow of gloomy thought. Ishwari followed me because she thought I would take her to her farther. What will happen when she finds out the truth? Even if I save her, even if I hide her from Spencer and the British authorities, I can't help Captain Nemo. All I could hope for was that it would be easier for him to meet death, knowing that his daughter was safe. What a weak and bitter consolation!

The river turned again, this time to the west, and I realised that the mouth was close. The banks got closer, the current intensified, and I put down the oars, giving myself a few minutes of respite. The boat slid easily through the shimmering ripples of the small waves, and soon the larger waves from the lagoon mixed with the gentle lull of the river.

"Princess, have you ever sailed the sea?" I turned to Ishwari.

The girl shook her head.

"There may be high waves in the lagoon, and there will most certainly be from the sea. The boat will rock strongly. Sit back and hold on tight!"

She obediently moved to the back bench and clutched her arms to side of the boat. I took up the oars again. Half a minute later, the river narrowed sharply and turned to the north-west, white crests appeared on the waves, and our little boat was carried onto a vast expanse of water – a little less than a mile wide.

A strong south-west wind blew over the lagoon, the boat immediately picked up and pushed forth on a short and angry wave. It was a mile or a bit more from the mouth of the rover to the open ocean, but we could not go straight, the waves pushed us obliquely to the port side and tried to overturn the little boat. I turned the boat to the waves, heading for the southern shore of the lagoon, and rowed. The work was rapidly becoming harder.

Ishwari was sitting at the stern, clutching her arms in fright. The turbulent waters of the mouth of Chapora did not at all resemble the quiet streams of Anjuna – and yet we had not even gone out into the ocean! The boat lifted its nose, scrambling on the peak of a wave, then plunged down, and we splashed heavily into the water. In the west, we saw the opening to the ocean, the moonlight shining out path.

For about half an hour, I rowed, not stopping and almost did not feel any weakness. A hundred toises away, the southern shore of the lagoon stretched away from us – an uneven black stripe against the background of the misty gray lunar sky. The bulk of Chapora Fort gradually heaved even higher, approaching from the south-west, but I hoped that no one would notice our tiny boat from there. The waves became weaker, cut off by the near shore – and we approached the bend in the lagoon. When the moonlight disappeared behind the fort, I ventured to turn west, straight for the exit to the ocean.

The monotonous rhythm of work at the oars cleared my head from extraneous thoughts. I seemed to be clear headed, feeling no more despair or fear. Ishwari sat motionless, holding tight to the sides of the boat, closing her eyes and seemingly moving her lips, her scarf had long been drenched and lay heavily on her shoulders.

For ten minutes I rowed through the strait, struggling to paddle and risking stopping from fatigue too soon. The stone boulder of Chapora Fort, which was in the south now, and the waves continued to push us to the right. The hill upon which the fort stood, was plunged in darkness, only on its summit the lights from the windows glowed. At any moment we could be found, stopped and captured – to the complete victory of Colonel Spencer.

I was aware of this danger, but I completely forgot about another, much more formidable! Rowing through the lagoon was exhaustingly strenuous, and I realised the madness of my plan only when we went out to the open sea. When we leave the strait, we will be picked up by the huge ocean waves. Our boat is already struggling on the waves of the lagoon, and it took great effort for me to keep it on course, before it was rolled again another way from the next wave. I felt the little boat reach for the sky before falling back to the abyss of the ocean, trapped between two walls of darkness.

What was I thinking when I decided to paddle to Panaji? Did I count on the Arabian Sea being calm, like the lake in the forest? The waves that faced us, an experienced captain of a well-equipped modern ship would not even call a storm, but Ishwari and I were in not more than a wooden shell, could not even be called a lifeboat!

For about an hour I was still trying to steer the boat along the coast to the south, towards Panaji, but then I realised the futility of my attempts. Waves coming from the south-west pushed us to the north, and the powerful mass of water traveling from the mouth of Chapora carried us away from the coast. When the boat was raised on the crest on a wave, I looked around to the right, to the left bank, and saw how it became further and further away. Another hour, and I realised we were lost.

How to describe the chilling horror of realising the inevitable, imminent death? But stronger than this, was the feeling of guilt before Ishwari. Without my intervention she would have lived – even if as a prisoner, ever under the hand of the enemies of her homeland, but she would have lived – and I took her away with an impossible dream and destroyed it almost as certainly as with the shot from a rifle. Out of shame, in front of her, I did not give up, and held the boat's nose towards the wave, already without hope, and only postponing our death for a minute…and then another.

The night stretched on and on endlessly, like a longing soul trapped in hell. The moon gradually sank to the horizon and disappeared behind distant clouds, and everything around us was then shrouded in darkness. I was exhausted, muscles not accustomed to row for hours and hours, began to seize, and not respond. We were both drenched. Ishwari was silent – I did not hear a word of complaint or reproach from her. Did she still have faith in me, or did she long understand that we were doomed, and with that calm courage characteristic of Indians, prepared for death?

At some point, we were raised to the crest of a particularly high wave, and Ishwari suddenly shouted in a brittle voice:

"Light! There, in the sea, light!"

I turned, barely able to move.

She was right, about a mile away from us, the black sea water was illuminated with a glow that I would confuse with no other – the bright phosphoric glow of the Nautilus searchlight.