Page 141 of A Column of Fire

‘It’s what he meant.’

Bacon said impatiently: ‘Ask him how much he needs to be bribed.’

Again Barney’s translation was more tactful. ‘Captain Bacon asks what it would cost to purchase a licence to trade here.’

There was a pause. Would Alfonso angrily refuse, and jail them for corruption as well as illegal trading?

The fat man said: ‘Five escudos per slave, payable to me.’

Thank heaven, Barney thought.

The price was high, but not unreasonable. A Spanish escudo was a coin containing one-eighth of an ounce of gold.

Bacon’s reply was: ‘I can’t pay more than one escudo.’

‘Three.’

‘Done.’

‘One more thing.’

‘Damn,’ Bacon muttered. ‘I agreed too easily. Now there’ll be some supplementary charge.’

Barney said in Spanish: ‘Captain Bacon will not pay more.’

Alfonso said: ‘You have to threaten to destroy the town.’

Barney had not expected that. ‘What?’

‘When the authorities in Santo Domingo accuse me of permitting illicit trade, my defence will be that I had to do it to save the town from the wrath of the savage English pirates.’

Barney translated, and Bacon said: ‘Fair enough.’

‘I’ll need it in writing.’

Bacon nodded agreement.

Barney frowned. He did not like the idea of a written confession of crime, even if it was true. However, he saw no way around it.

The door opened and the girl in the yellow dress walked in. Ignacio glanced at her without interest. Alfonso smiled fondly. She crossed the room to his chair as casually as if she were family, and kissed him on the forehead.

Alfonso said: ‘My niece, Bella.’

Barney guessed that ‘niece’ was a euphemism for ‘illegitimate daughter’. Alfonso had fathered a child with a beautiful slave, it seemed. Barney recalled the words of Ebrima:Slaves are always used for sex.

Bella was carrying a bottle, and now she put it on the table with the walking-sticks. ‘I thought you might need some rum,’ she said, speaking the Spanish of an educated woman with just the hint of an accent Barney did not recognize. She gave him a direct look, and he realized her eyes were the same bright blue as Alfonso’s. ‘Enjoy it in good health,’ she said, and she went out.

‘Her mother was a spitfire, rest her soul,’ Alfonso said nostalgically. For a moment he was silent, remembering. Then he said: ‘You should buy Bella’s rum. It’s the best. Let’s have a taste.’

Barney began to relax. The atmosphere had changed completely. They were now collaborators, not adversaries.

The secretary got three glasses from a cupboard, drew the stopper from the bottle, and poured generous measures for the other men. They drank. It was very good rum, spicy but smooth, with a kick in the swallow.

Bacon said: ‘A pleasure to do business with you, Don Alfonso.’

Alfonso smiled. ‘I believe you have sold eighty slaves.’

Barney began to make an excuse. ‘Well, we weren’t aware of any prohibition—’