of it? I shall have to phone the director immediately.”
Ton casted a quick glance towards the table strewn with Hodoul’s papers.
“Of course, Madame Savy. We must inform your director immediately. Being an old friend of the admiral’s, I am sure he will be grateful to Anna for discovering the theft.”
“Theft? Who said anything about a theft! In my archives? Those papers must be somewhere!” Madame Savy eyed Anna’s schoolbag with suspicion.
“Don’t trouble yourself, my dear Madame Savy. Anna and I just happen to be on our way to see the director about her artefact right now.”
And without giving Madame Savy a chance to argue, Ton marched Anna out of the archives and onto the hot street outside.
Chapter 9
THE CHIVONNE
“Ton, Hodoul’s diary’s been stolen from the archives!” Anna almost shouted, once they were on the street outside.
“I know,” Ton said. “I heard the whole hullabaloo.”
“You were eavesdropping?” Anna asked. “Did they teach you that … wherever it is that you trained?” She never missed an opportunity to try and find out more about Ton’s mysterious past, but to no avail.
“You were both practically shouting. Now let’s get you out of here before that lady decides to make trouble.”
Anna noticed that they had turned down one of the narrow alleys that snaked between the small shops, and she was battling to keep up with Ton’s long strides.
“Where are we going, Ton? This is definitely not the way to the jetty!”
“As I said to that nice lady, we’re going to see the director of the museum.”
“I’m not going to give him the dagger, Ton. It’s mine. I found it!” she said as she trotted behind him.
Around them, people were hurrying along, finishing the day’s business before they returned home to their families, their cooking and other preparations.
“Some things, Anna,” Ton said over his shoulder, “are bigger than we are. You are only eleven years old, but you want to hold on to something that has a two-hundred-year-old story?” Ton turned to smile down at her. “If you had to choose, Anna, between the dagger and its secret, which would it be?”
“I’m nearly twelve!” Anna retorted, but it took her a while longer to figure out the question, and by that time they had arrived at an old colonial-style house with a high roof and a broad veranda that had recently been converted to luxurious offices. A security guard stood at the door.
“We’re here to see Monsieur Raymond Hodoul,” Ton told him.
“And you are?” the guard inquired.
“People who want to see Monsieur Hodoul,” Ton repeated, louder and more slowly, as if he was speaking to a little child.
The guard sized up the enormous man in his black suit, and then looked down at the wisp of a girl with her dark hair in their spiky tufts. Glancing back at the formidable Ton, he wisely decided not to offer any further resistance. He spun round on the heel of his polished boot, and disappeared through the high wooden door.
Ton stood like a statue while they waited, while Anna started a skipping game on the pavement. After about three minutes, the guard appeared again.
“This way!” he beckoned, jerking his head towards a door.
Inside the house, a descendant of the great pirate sat behind a huge wooden desk. He wore a crisp white linen shirt, and the nails of the long, elegant hands that rested on the papers in front of him were carefully manicured. Nevertheless, he still managed to look like a pirate: his grey hair was swept back from his high forehead, and he had a splendid moustache and a clipped but unruly beard.
His dark eyes flashed like polished metal. He smiled at them, exhibiting a row of strong teeth.
“Ah, the man from Monpetit and the daughter of my dear old friend, Abraham Atom! What gives me the honour of this visit?” he asked, crossing the floor in long strides to first shake Anna’s hand, and then Ton’s.
Raymond Hodoul was wearing khaki shorts and slip-slops. He had looked so grand and formidable sitting behind his huge desk. But on second glance, he appeared to be a typical relaxed islander.
“This!” Anna said, holding out the dagger to him.
Raymond Hodoul’s face remained expressionless, but she could hear him draw in his breath. He took the dagger from her, and slowly turned it around in his neat hands.
“You are returning this to the family to whom it belongs, and for that I am most grateful. But you expect something for your efforts, I assume?” he said, glancing at Anna shrewdly.
“I do,” she replied. “I would like to know how it got to where I found it.”
“And you are going to tell me where you found it?” Monsieur Hodoul asked.
Anna looked deep into his dark eyes. She turned to Ton. He gave her a small nod.
“Just beyond the reef of the bay opposite the house on Monpetit. It’s where I have my sea-slug garden,” she said.
Monsieur Hodoul looked at her closely. Then he turned, and with his hands clasped behind his back, walked over to a window. He stood there, staring out to the street, deep in thought.
“Beyond the reef of the bay … Yes, it is possible,” he said at last.
Anna waited for him to continue.
“An ancestor of mine once lost a ship, the Chivonne, in that area. Fortunately, he and most of his men were able to abandon the sinking vessel and swim to a small island nearby. The island had no name in those days, but from his description of the disastrous journey it could very well have been Monpetit. It was a very special journey, you know, and it’s a great tragedy for all of us that it ended in failure.”
Monsieur Hodoul turned around, and walked over to stand right in front of Anna. He bent forward slightly, so that he could look the girl straight in the eye.
“Do you know, young lady, why that voyage was so special?”
Anna shook her head, mesmerised by his story.
“It was special because on the Chivonne, my great-great ancestor was carrying a cargo of animals from Île de France – Mauritius it is called today. Some of the animals were endangered due to human activities on the island, and they couldn’t be found anywhere else in the world. They were unique!”
He started pacing the room briskly.
“Those days things were different. Animals were viewed merely as a food source – some species were facing total extinction
