Winded and retching, Lacost doubled up; but he still grasped the jack knife. Gregory struck the wrist above it a savage blow with the hard edge of his right hand. The knife tinkled against a grating and slithered away. Clutching wildly at one another, they rolled across the deck.
They brought up against the stern seat, Lacost on top. Pressed down by the Frenchman's weight, Gregory could not wriggle from underneath him. Making a great effort, he kneed him in the groin. Lacost gave a groan, but there was not sufficient force behind the stroke to disable him. A moment later he had his hands round Gregory's throat. In vain Gregory tried to break the hold. His chest felt as though an iron band were being screwed tight about it. There came a singing in his ears. Making the first and second fingers of his right hand rigid, he jabbed desperately with them at the Frenchman's eyes. One finger went home. Lacost gave a scream of pain. Letting go of Gregory's throat, he rolled off him.
Gregory staggered to his feet. Lacost lurched to his and, although half blinded, came at him again. Seizing Gregory round the waist in a bear like hug, he lifted him from his feet and strove to throw him overboard. Being much the weaker, Gregory knew that he was now at his enemy's mercy. It could be only a matter of minutes before his breath would be squeezed out of his body.,
Suddenly there came to him a way in which he might possibly save himself. When the fight had started, the last two long strands of wire which were left because he had not had the time to make the net fouling the port propeller more secure had still been looped round his neck with the ends hanging down his back. During his wrestle. with Lacost on the deck one of them had fallen off; but as he clung to his enemy, clutching his shoulders and with their faces pressed together, he could feel the bite of the remaining wire now under his chin.
Releasing his hold on his antagonist with one hand at a time while continuing to cling to him with the other, he felt down over his shoulder until his fingers had found the wire. In turn, he pulled the ends of the wire up and jerked them forward so that they were hanging down behind Lacost's back instead of his own. Letting go of his enemy for a moment, but still clasped round the waist by him, he got his hands behind his neck, crossed the long ends of wire and pulled them together.
Suddenly Lacost realised what was happening and made frantic efforts to thrust Gregory from him. But, with his legs now round the Frenchman's waist and his hands behind his head, Gregory succeeded in clinging to him. As the garrotte tightened, Lacost gasped. His eyes started to bulge. Ceasing his attempts to throw Gregory overboard, he staggered round, lurched forward and attempted to crush him against the cabin roof. But he could no longer draw breath. The strength was seeping from his great limbs. Gregory gave a savage jerk on the two ends of the wire, so that their loop cut into Lacost's throat, then twisted them over one another. He began to make a horrible gurgling noise. Only seconds later his grasp of Gregory relaxed. His arms fell to his sides, he heeled over and slumped on to the deck, bringing Gregory down with him.
Gregory was underneath, his muscles aching intolerably and sobbing for breath. It was minutes before he had regained sufficient strength to push Lacost off and stagger to his feet. In the dawn light the Frenchman's face was going purple. Gregory did not want him to die there, but to stand trial for his crimes and go to the guillotine. As he could always tighten the garrotte again before Lacost was in any condition to renew the fight, he eased it a little; just enough for the Frenchman to draw painful breaths.
The struggle had ended near the stern of the boat. As Gregory moved to switch on the engine, his glance fell on the ' other length of wire. Picking it up, he used it to secure Lacost's hands behind his back. Then he eased the garrotte a little more and firmly tied the ends of the wire that formed it to a cleat. Without the use of his hands Lacost could not free himself from the garrotte, and should he attempt to get to his feet it would strangle him.
Within another two minutes the fact that he had so recently been fighting for his life had passed from Gregory's mind. As the boat again surged through the water, now not far from the extremity of the mole, his mind had once more become obsessed by the question of what Manon had done, or might do, to the Witch, up in the Royal bure.
Rounding the mole he brought the boat alongside the wharf and hastily tied her up. Lacost, blood seeping from his neck where the wire had cut into it, lay unmoving. The only people about were a few early rising longshoremen and none of them was near; but if he could manage to shout for help, that might bring one of them to the boat. Anyone finding him would be sure to fall for a story that he had been set upon by robbers, and would release him. To prevent such a happening, greatly as Gregory grudged the time, he spent a few minutes taking precautions against it.
While retrieving the papers from Lacost's pocket, he found a handkerchief in it and used that to gag him. Then, lest the gag in addition to the wire should cause him, after all, to die from suffocation, he again eased the wire until it was quite loose, but would still tighten if Lacost tried to sit up. Lastly, to conceal him from any passer by, Gregory flung over him a tarpaulin that was normally used to cover the stern end of the boat when she was not in use.
Satisfied that the unscrupulous brute who had brought death and pain to many people would, in due course, meet his just deserts, Gregory dived into the cabin, remained there only to put on his trousers and shoes, scrambled ashore and set off at a run through the town.
Even had he been forty years younger he could not have run the whole way from the harbour up the long slope to the bure but, at a quick walk for most of the way, with bursts of running now and then, he flogged himself into the utmost speed he could manage.
When he reached the bure his breath was coming in sobs and the sweat was streaming down his naked torso. As he burst into the big room Manon, who was standing at one end of it, gave a cry of fright. In his haggard state, for a moment she had failed to recognise him. When she did, she exclaimed
`Gregory! Whatever has happened? You look absolutely ghastly. And why are you only half dressed?'
For a full minute he stood there panting as he stared at her. Then, still fighting to get back his wind, he wheezed out. `The Witch? Is… is she all right? Where… is she?'
`she's better,' Manon replied. `I gave her the mustard and hot water, as you said, and she was sick. After a while she came round. That is, not enough to talk; but she began to moan and move her limbs feebly. So I put her to bed in our room.'
`Thank God!' Gregory murmured. `Oh, thank God!'
Manon gave him a puzzled look and said, `You seem to have worked yourself up into a frightful state. Why are you so concerned about her.'
`Because…' Gregory replied slowly. `Because she is rather a special person.'
`D'you mean you still need her help to induce the natives to fight? I thought you'd found her out to be a fraud only a sort of puppet, used by Roboumo to scare people with threats that she would curse them. But I suppose the natives are not yet aware of that; so now she is on our side, when she is well enough, she would be willing to frighten them into fighting the Colons for you.'
`No; it's not that.' Gregory shook his head. 'The fighting is over and the Colons are finished. James and his men captured the Boa Viagem three quarters of an hour ago. Olinda is safe and I've got Lacost down at the harbour. He did his damnedest to kill me, but I half killed him and left him trussed up like a chicken.'
Manon was silent for a moment. Then she smiled. `So at last this terrible business is over. What a wonderful relief. I've been so worried that you would get yourself killed, darling; then all my dreams would have been shattered and I'd be miserable ever after.'