It was the Boxer priest, standing calmly in the tracks as doom thundered down on him. He raised his hand, a magus warding off an evil spirit, then he was enveloped in steam, and the metal monster was screeching over where he had stood.
The engine came to a halt a few feet from the buffers. There was one last rush of steam, and after that a quiet descended on the railway camp. The dying hiss of the cooling engine and the whimpers and cries of those who had been trampled only intensified the silence.
Herr Fischer was as shocked as everyone else. He even felt responsible for the accident, but in spite of this, or even because of it, he felt that the only way to restore order was to continue with the ceremony. Ignoring the fact that Dr Airton, the nuns and Tom had already rushed from the rostrum to see if they could help the injured and the priest, he bowed in front of the Mandarin. ‘Your Excellency, please,’ he said, gesturing him to stand and follow him to the rostrum. There he pointed at a lever, which he directed the Mandarin to pull. He and Charlie had designed this carefully. When the catch was released a bottle of champagne swung from a pole and exploded with a hiss on the hot boiler of the engine. At the same moment, cords tying down a net on the roof were loosed and a shower of dried petals scattered into the air blowing over the train and the crowd.
‘On behalf of the Peking–Mukden Railway Company, I formally declare the Tientsin–Shishan branch line open,’ said Herr Fischer.
It was then that the schnapps arrived. It was also the signal for the small band, which Charlie had spent months training, to launch into a disjointed but cheerful version of ‘Garryowen’.
* * *
It took some while and exertion on the part of Major Lin’s troops to restore order. The monstrous machine had frightened the crowd; they were shocked by the apparent death of the Boxer priest; and they had become even more alarmed when no trace of his body could be found under the wheels of the train. Was Boxer magic stronger than western magic after all? Were the stories true that followers of the Harmonious Fists could not be injured by the ocean devils’ weapons or machines? For many this was the first time that they had come across any evidence of the Boxer movement at first hand. They had all heard about it and knew that it had flourished in other towns. But today the sheer evil nature of the foreign machine—its infernal noise and hellish emanations, the panic it had unleashed at its approach—and the bravery and successful defiance by a Boxer cult leader, despite these fearsome aspects, had caused many to think seriously again about what in the past they had only considered to be the fanatical speeches of rabble-rousers and quacks. What had really angered them was Fischer’s callous scattering of flowers, and the band that had tactlessly played its triumphal western tunes. It was as if the foreigners were deliberately mocking their superstitions, and jeering at the death of the priest. Some remembered the arrogant speech of the foreign engineer—not many had bothered to listen at the time, but now his words were recalled and embroidered. Had he not boasted that he was conjuring new forces that would erase their old traditions? That monstrous machines like this fire-cart would in future reduce the load of the honest working men, the carters and hauliers, whose livelihoods depended on transporting the goods that would now be carried by this machine of metal and fire? Had he not gone further and said that the new western science—magic by another name—would change the way of life of the people, breaking the order of the old society and replacing it with new ideas? Was this not an attempt to challenge the eternal cosmic order and shake the Dragon Throne? It did not take long for the crowd’s mood to turn ugly, and for the first stones to be thrown at the train, breaking the windows in some of the carriages.
Major Lin had to send a company of men to rescue the doctor and his wife, the two nuns, Tom and Helen Frances, who were still below offering medical assistance to those who had been trampled. They were surrounded by a mob of angry young men who first screamed abuse, then pelted them with mud and finally with harder projectiles, one of which hit Sister Elena on the temple giving her temporary concussion. It was enough for Major Lin’s soldiers to fire a volley in the air to cause the men to scatter, and the doctor and his party calmly continued with their work, guarded by the soldiers. Fortunately few were seriously injured. They treated the patients quickly and efficiently, and it was not long before they could return to the safety and warmth of the ceremonial platform.
Bowers and his crew, and the two passengers who had travelled with them to Shishan, also had to be escorted to the platform. Bowers, a tall, bearded man of a puritan bent, was anguished with remorse that he had run a man over, and baffled when he was told that the body had disappeared. ‘I saw him,’ he said. ‘I saw him tumble under the wheels. Saw it with my own eyes. There’s no devil could survive the onrush of a train. If there’s no body there then some other person’s moved it. There’s no other way to explain it.’
* * *
Manners had recognised one of the passengers from the train. ‘Taro-san,’ he called across the tent. ‘You old dog. You accepted my invitation.’
He crossed over and embraced a tall, well-proportioned Japanese. The man was both elegant and relaxed in his western clothes. He wore a trim tweed suit and patent leather boots. He had a black military greatcoat hung casually over his shoulders. He sported a narrow moustache and his eyebrows were set in a humorous frown. ‘My dear friend Manners,’ he said, in perfect English, ‘when I received your telegram telling me about the hunting here, how could I resist?’
‘Come, let me introduce you,’ said Manners.
The Mandarin had seated himself by a small table on which were piled a plate of corned-beef sandwiches. These he was sampling with his schnapps. If he was at all perturbed by the ugly behaviour of the crowd he did not show it, and in fact was exhibiting the same levity and bonhomie that had characterised his behaviour since his arrival.
He looked up at the two men with a smile. Taro clicked his heels and bowed deeply. ‘Da Ren, may I present Colonel Taro Hideyoshi, who is attached to the Japanese Legation in Peking,’ said Manners.
‘Ah, yes,’ said the Mandarin, nibbling a sandwich. ‘I have heard of you, Colonel. Ma Na Si Xiansheng has spoken of you, and so has the commander of my garrison, Major Lin Fubo.’
‘The major and I had the honour of meeting during the late war, Da Ren.’ Taro’s Chinese, like Manners’s, was fluent. ‘Lieutenant Lin, as he was then, and I were opponents, but we rapidly developed a friendship of soldiers.’
‘Is that what it was? Not the relationship between a warder and his captive? Major Lin seems very grateful to you. You must have been kind to him. In your culture and mine we respect the obligations of friendship. We also consider it shameful to be defeated in battle, and we tend to despise those who have allowed themselves to become prisoners. There might have been a contradiction here. I am so glad that you and Major Lin, with your friendship of soldiers, were able to resolve it.’
Colonel Taro smiled. ‘Ma Na Si Xiansheng in his letters has often spoken to me of the sagacity of the Mandarin. I am very honoured to make his acquaintance.’
‘I am certain that Major Lin is looking forward to renewing your acquaintance, Colonel. I assume from the warm way he speaks of you that it was an intimate friendship?’
‘Your Excellency is very kind. Indeed it was a very warm friendship,’ said Taro. ‘May I ask, where is Major Lin?’
‘He is outside shooting the peasants who became scared when your steam train arrived. No doubt he will return shortly.’ The Mandarin picked up another sandwich. ‘Colonel, you are welcome in Shishan. Ma Na Si has spoken to me of your plans to hunt here. Indeed, he has discussed these with Major Lin, who has reported them to me. I am more than interested that the three of you will be successful in your sport and that you will bag the quarry you seek. You understand that in my position I cannot join you in this hunt, although I look forward—I very much look forward—to seeing the trophies.’
‘I am encouraged by your Excellency’s support. I can inform you that
I, too, have made my own minister aware of my intentions to hunt here, and informed him of what quarry I seek. He wishes me every good fortune—indeed, he did me the honour of giving me some useful suggestions, and has indicated to me which trophies he would particularly like to see. Of course, he, like you, Da Ren, is prevented by his duties from joining us personally.’
‘It is gratifying that we all have such an early understanding, Colonel. Let me know through Major Lin how I can be of assistance to you during your stay. I am certain that he will look after your comforts. Of course, being such an intimate friend, he is in a position to know exactly what your requirements are. This is he now, Colonel, flush from his military victories. I will not delay your joyful reconciliation any further.’
Major Lin had entered behind the doctor and the party that had been treating the injured. He did not see Colonel Taro at first. He was somewhat distractedly pulling off his gloves and his padded greatcoat and was warming his hands by the stove. He was startled when a smiling Taro tapped him lightly on the shoulder, and it was with a petulant frown that he turned to see who had disturbed him. He froze in mid-movement.
‘Taro-sama.’ The word came out as a gasp. The Mandarin and Manners, watching from the other side of the tent, saw the colour drain from the young officer’s face, and a look almost of terror distort his pallid features.
‘My old, old friend,’ said Taro, taking Lin by the arms and embracing him. Trembling, Major Lin shrugged himself free of the other man’s grasp. His twisted lip quivered, his features contorted with conflicting emotions. It was only after a noticeable effort that he was able to smooth them back into their habitual expression of coldness. He clicked his heels, bowed sharply from the waist. ‘Colonel Taro, you are welcome to Shishan,’ he said.
‘How touching,’ said the Mandarin. ‘I had not appreciated that the friendship of soldiers could be so passionate.’
‘Colonel Taro said that it was an intimate friendship,’ said Manners, smiling.
‘I suspect that Major Lin would like to forget quite how intimate it was,’ murmured the Mandarin. His voice lost its ironical tone, and he looked up at the Englishman with a hard eye. He spoke very quietly: ‘Ma Na Si, you and I both know what happened when Lin was that man’s prisoner, and how he bought his life or at least his release from hard labour with his own dishonour. I am not one to cast blame. I benefit from the military knowledge, which Lin learned while he was Taro’s—friend. And it was in the past. We all have pasts, Ma Na Si, do we not?
‘But now we have an interesting situation. The past has returned to haunt our brave young officer. I am relying on you to guide these negotiations to a successful conclusion. The relationship between these two men is—how shall I say it?—nicely weighted. I am gambling, Ma Na Si, that in the delicate balance between obligation and shame—and Major Lin, as you know, feels both—the weights will come down slightly on the side of shame. In the balance between love and hatred, the scales will fractionally favour hatred—for then Major Lin will drive the hardest bargain for me. But the scales must tip only gently, or otherwise there will be no deal.
‘Do you understand me? Of course you do. That’s why I am speaking so frankly. I am revealing nothing that you had not calculated already. For you sit on the balance of the scales, Englishman. I would remind you that you will not profit if the scales fall too heavily in either direction.’
‘There is an expression, Da Ren, that an Englishman’s word is his bond.’
‘Your word is worth nothing. You are an opportunist. My friend, I only trust your self-interest. And your hunger.’
‘And my respects go to you too, Da Ren.’
‘Ha! Ma Na Si, we understand each other. That is why I like you. I will give you one word of advice, however. Be hungry—but do not be greedy.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Fan Yimei, the girl in the brothel, she belongs to Major Lin. Content yourself with your theft of the red-headed English girl from her young fool. Dally with the other whores in the Palace of Heavenly Pleasure. Leave Fan Yimei to the Major.’
‘I see,’ said Manners. ‘I won’t ask how you know these things. It is true that Fan Yimei is comely and I had … noticed her. I am surprised, though, that such a great one as the Da Ren takes interest in the ownership of a whore, or the disposition of a barbarian’s heart.’
‘You do not have a heart, Ma Na Si. You are also impertinent—but I do have an interest in this girl. At least, I have placed her under my protection. Her father once—never mind. I cannot move her from that house but she can be my gift within it. It is one way of protecting her. She also serves my policy, and for the moment she is given to Major Lin. He has a passion for her. It is a difficult time for him. I do not want him made more upset than he is already.’
‘And once our deal is concluded? When it no longer matters whether Major Lin is upset?’
‘Oh, you are arrogant, Englishman. But I agree. When the deal is sealed we will talk. Expect to pay a high price for her. I will think of some suitable exchange. No, no further talk now. It is nearly time for me to leave, and for courtesy’s sake I must exchange banalities first with your comical colleague, the engineer, and his half-foreign interpreter.’
* * *
Dr Airton, who on his return had intended to have a long talk with the Mandarin, had been surprised and slightly chagrined to see him in such close conversation with Manners. It was impressive how the relative newcomer had managed to ingratiate himself so quickly with the important people in Shishan. He also seemed to be on intimate terms with Major Lin, which was remarkable, knowing that cold young officer’s hatred of foreigners. He had just seen the major embraced, of all things, by the natty Japanese visitor who had arrived on the train. Lin’s face had been a picture! What had impelled the man to do such a thing? The Japs really were unfathomable. Knowing Lin, the doctor had expected violence. However, it was now ten minutes afterwards. No explosion had taken place, and the two were still talking amicably in a corner. It was a mystery, but not one the doctor cared to ponder on overmuch. What he really wanted was a cup of tea.
‘Dr Airton?’ A loud American voice was addressing him. It was the second passenger, a soberly dressed, elderly but fit-looking man wearing a Homburg hat and a travelling cape. ‘May I introduce myself? My name is Burton Fielding and I am with the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions based in Tientsin. You kindly sent us a letter.’
‘My dear fellow, of course, so I did. About poor Millward. Well, well, to be truthful I never really expected a reply. It seemed a trifle impertinent on my part.’
‘Not at all, sir. My board took your letter very seriously. We are all deeply concerned, especially about the tragic and ghastly loss of his son, which as I understand it unbalanced Mr Millward.’
‘Well, he was pretty unbalanced already. One tries to be charitable but…’
‘Say no more, sir. You expressed yourself most eloquently in your letter. I will be here for three days, until the train leaves again, and I hope that in that time I may achieve an understanding with Mr Millward that will save further embarrassments for you and the rest of the community.’
‘What can I say? Welcome to Shishan. I’m sorry that your arrival was marred by such a gruesome accident on the track.’
‘Sir, these are unpredictable times. If it’s not Boxers then it’s something else.’ Fielding’s sudden deep-throated laugh was infectious. ‘But who said missionary work was going to be easy? Doctor, you’ve heard of the School of Life and Hard Knocks? That’s where I’ve graduated. I take things as they come. Give me a yoke of common sense in front and the whip of the Lord’s will behind. Reckon that’s enough to get me across most rivers and obstacles. My philosophy is to be pragmatic, trust in Jesus, take life and people as you find them, and don’t, for heaven’s sake, start worrying your head about things you can’t control.’
Something in the lilt of Fielding’s voice was excitingly familiar; the expansive imagery and the slow Ame
rican drawl suddenly reminded Airton of his magazines. ‘Mr Fielding, may I ask, where in the United States do you hail from?’
‘I come from a town called Laredo, sir, which is in Webb County, southern Texas. Mexican border way, near the Rio Grande.’
‘The Rio Grande?’ said the doctor, his eyes shining. ‘That’s cowboy country.’
‘Yes, sir, it surely is. Father was a preacher, missionary to the Pueblo Indians till a bandido got him in a canyon and filled him with lead. I came back from college in Albuquerque to attend the funeral. I guess it was standing by my pa’s grave, with the dry mountains around me, and cactus shimmering in the desert haze and silence hanging in that dome of sky so you just knew that God was all around you, I guess it was then and there I decided I would be a missionary like my pa, only I came further afield than he ever did and here I am.’
‘Nellie,’ said Airton to his wife, who had quietly come up beside him, ‘would you believe me if I told you that this gentleman is from the Wild West—the Rio Grande? And tonight he will be staying with us!’
‘That would be too much of an imposition, ma’am,’ said Fielding. ‘I intended to put up with the Millwards tonight.’
‘No, sir,’ said Nellie. ‘I don’t know who you are and why you’ve come here but I can tell you one thing for sure, that under no circumstances will I allow you to stay with the Millwards. They won’t have you and, once you’ve seen their place, nor would you want to rest there. Besides, if you really do come from the Wild West, then you have a tryst with my husband that is likely to go on into the wee hours. The poor man may look like an elderly and respectable father of the Kirk, but the truth is that he is more juvenile than my little son, and only dreams of robbing trains and being a cowboy. His library is awash with comics and shockers—a sad example to his flock and a shame and embarrassment to his family. So you see, sir, whoever you are, you are a godsend. I am relying on you as the real thing to cure him of his delusions.’
The Palace of Heavenly Pleasure Page 30