by Gai-Jin(Lit)
"Malcolm..." Angelique said.
"Yes?" Struan said at once, concentrating, his heart pounding, reminding him he had used the last of Hoag's sleeping draft and that he must ask
Ah Tok to replace the mixture--for just a day or so. "I'm so pleased to see you too."
"Me too. How do you like my dress?"
"It's wonderful and so are you," he said.
"Think I'll be going, Tai-pan,"
McFay broke in, seeing how happy Struan had become, pleased for him though still sweating. "The
Choshu reps are downstairs--all right to proceed with them?"
"As we decided. Good, thanks again,
Jamie. Let me know how it goes."
"Malcolm," Angelique said quickly,
"while Jamie's here... you remember you asked me to remind you when we were all together about my, the small allowance."
"Ah yes, of course. Jamie," he said expansively as she took his hand, her open pleasure casting the night into oblivion--forever, he thought happily. That night never happened!
"Put my fianc@ee's chits against my account," he told him with a twinge of happiness at the word.
"Angel, just sign chits, whatever you want,
Jamie will take care of them."
"Thank you, ch@eri, that's wonderful, but please can I have some money?"
He laughed and Jamie smiled also. "You don't need any here, there's no need for cash-- none of us carry money."
"But Malcolm, I w--"
"Angelique," he said his voice firmer.
"Chits are the way we pay for everything, at the
Club or at any store in the Settlement, everyone does, even in Hong Kong, surely you haven't forgotten. It stops tradesmen cheating and you've a permanent record."
"But I've always had money, ch@eri, money of my own, to pay my own bills," she said with an outward show of complete honesty, "and as my father has... well you understand."
"Paying your own bills? What an appalling idea. That's unheard of in good society. Now don't worry yourself," he said, smiling at her,
"that's for men to do. Chits are our perfect solution."
"Perhaps French people are different, we always have cash and--"
"So do we in England and elsewhere, but in Asia we all sign chits. Whatever you want to buy just sign for it--even better we must get you your personal chop, we'll choose the perfect Chinese name for you." This was a small stamp, usually a rectangular piece of ivory or bone, the bottom of which was ornately carved with the Chinese characters that sounded like the owner's name. When pressed into an ink pad then onto paper, it would produce a unique imprint almost impossible to forge. "Jamie will arrange it for you."
"Thank you, Malcolm. But then, well, can
I have my own account, ch@eri, I'm really very good at managing."
"I'm sure you are, now don't worry your beautiful head, when we're married I'll arrange it, but here it's unnecessary."
She hardly listened to herself as she entertained
Struan with gossip from the French Legation, what she had read in the papers, what her friend in Paris had written about a superb residence--called
"hotel" there--on the Champs-Elys`ees belonging to a Countess that would soon become available and was so inexpensive, planting seeds for their glorious future, making him laugh, waiting for him to become drowsy when she would leave for her lunch at the Club with the French officers, then later to ride with them and some of the English navy officers on the race course, then a siesta, then to prepare for Sir William's soiree--no reason not to go but first returning to say good night to her soon-to-be husband.
Everything marvelous and terrible, most of her mind on her new dilemma: how to get cash. What am I going to do? I have to have cash to pay for the medicine, that swine Andr`e Poncin won't advance it for me, I know he won't. Damn him and damn my father for stealing my money! And damn
HIM of the Tokaid@o into eternal Hell forever!
Stop that and think. Remember you are on your own and you must solve your problems!
My only possession of value is my engagement ring and I can't sell that, I just can't.
Oh God, everything was going so well, I'm officially engaged, Malcolm is getting better, Andr`e is helping me but the medicine's so expensive and I've no money, real money, oh God, oh God what am I going to do?
Tears spilled out of her eyes.
"Good God, Angelique, what is it?"
"Just that, just that I'm so unhappy," she sobbed and buried her head in the bedclothes, "so unhappy that, that the Tokaid@o happened and you're hurt and I... I'm hurt too--it's not fair."
Sir William's ten-oared cutter sped through the swell in double-quick time aimed at the flagship anchored in the roads off Yokohama, her bow wave heavy. He was alone in the cabin and he stood, riding easily, frock coat, cutaway and top hat. Sea fair, light fading in the west, the clouds already grey but with no apparent threat of storm. As she swung alongside the ship, all oars went to the vertical, he jumped onto the gangway, and hurried up to the main deck to be piped aboard.
"Afternoon sir," Lieutenant Marlowe saluted smartly. "This way please." Past gleaming rows of cannons to the quarterdeck--the main deck and shrouds a hive of activity, cannons being secured, hawsers coiled, sails checked, smoke from the funnel--up a gangway then down another to the second gun deck, past sailors battening down and stowing gear, to the Admiral's cabin aft. The marine sentry saluted as
Marlowe knocked. "Sir William, sir."
"Well open the door Marlowe, for Christ's sake."
Marlowe held the door for Sir William and began to close it. "Marlowe, stay here!" the
Admiral ordered.
The large cabin filled the stern of the ship--many small sea windows, big table and sea chairs anchored to the deck, small bunk and toilet, large sideboard with cut-glass decanters. The
Admiral and General half got up with token politeness, and sat again. Marlowe stayed at the door.
"Thank you for arriving so expeditiously, Sir
William. Brandy? Sherry?"
"Brandy, thank you Admiral Ketterer.
Trouble?"
The florid-faced man glared at Marlowe.
"Would you oblige, Mr. Marlowe, brandy for
Sir William." He tossed a sheet of paper on the table. "Dispatch from Hong Kong."
With the usual flowery greetings, the dispatch read:
You will proceed at once with the flagship and four or five warships to the port of Boh Chih
Seh, north of Shanghai (coordinates overleaf) where the main pirate fleet of Wu
Sung Choi is now harbouring. A week ago a swarm of this pirate's junks, arrogantly flying his flag--the White Lotus--intercepted and sank H.m.'s mailship Bonny
Sailor in the waters off Mirs Bay, the pirate haven north of Hong Kong. The fleet here will deal with Mirs Bay--you will decimate
Boh Chih Seh and sink all craft not fishing vessels if the leader, believed to be Chu
Fang Choy, refuses to strike his colours and declines to surrender to Her Majesty's justice.
When accomplished, send one ship with a report here and return to Yokohama, placing yourself as usual at the disposition of Her
Majesty's servants. Show this to Sir
William and please give him the enclosed. yrs., Stanshope, KCB, Governor Far
East.
PS: The Bonny Sailor was lost with all hands, 76 officers and men, ten passengers, one of whom was an Englishwoman, the wife of a trader here, a cargo of gold, opium and rice worth ten thousand guineas. Chu Fang Choy had the effrontery to have delivered to Government House a sack containing the ship's log and forty-three pairs of ears with a letter apologizing that the others could not be recovered. The woman's were not included and we fear the worst for her.
"Bastards," Sir William muttered, with an added queasiness at the thought that, as pirates were endemic in all Asian waters, particularly from
Singapore north to Peking, and the White Lotus fleets the m
ost abundant and notorious of all, the woman could easily have been his wife who was due to arrive Hong Kong any week from
England with three of his children. "You leave on the tide?"
"Yes." The Admiral slid an envelope across the table. Sir William broke the seals:
Dear Willie, The next mail ship will bring the specie for the Legation expenses. Between ourselves, sorry, Willie, but I cannot give you any further troops at the moment, or ships. In the spring possibly. I have been ordered to return troops and ships to India where the authorities fear repetition of the Mutiny of five years ago. Added to that, the Punjab is in ferment again, pirates plague the Persian
Gulf and damned nomads in Mesopotamia have again cut the telegraph--another expeditionary force is being organized to deal with them once and for all!
How is that poor fellow Struan? Questions are bound to be asked in Parliament about
"failure to protect our nationals." News of your Tokaid@o disaster should reach London within two weeks, their answer not for two more months.
I trust they will countenance stiff reprisals, and send us the money troops and ships to carry out their orders. In the meantime weather the storm, if there is one, as best you can. Hong Kong is seething about this attack. Struan's mother is hopping mad and all the riffraff China traders here (however rich from their foul opium trade) are up in arms, their misguided, slanted guttersnipe Press demanding your resignation. Was it ever different? as
Disraeli would say! In haste, God speed, yrs. Stanshope, KCB, Governor.
Sir William took a large sip, hoping his face did not betray his anxiety. "Good brandy, Admiral."
"Yes it is, my very best private stock, in your honor," the Admiral said, furious that
Marlowe had given Sir William almost half a tumbler and had not used the ordinary, second grade he kept for visitors. Stupid berk, he thought, he should know better--he'll never make flag rank.
"What about going to Osaka?" Sir William asked.
"Oh, Osaka? I regret you will have to delay until I return." The smile was barely concealed.
"When will that be?" The sinking feeling became worse.
"To arrive at our destination, six or seven days depending on the winds, two or three days at Boh Chih Seh should be enough. I will have to re-coal at Shanghai, oh I'd say I should be off Yokohama again unless fresh orders arrive in..." The Admiral quaffed his port and poured another. "I should be back in four or five weeks."
Sir William finished his brandy and this helped to ease his nausea. "Lieutenant, would you be so kind? Thanks."
Marlowe took his glass politely and refilled it with the Admiral's best, hiding his disgust at being a flunky and totally fed up with this aide-de-camp posting--wanting to be back on his own ship, his own quarterdeck to supervise the repairs the storm had caused. But at least
I'll see some action at long last, he thought with relish, imagining the attack on the pirate haven, all guns blazing.
"Well, Admiral," Sir William was saying, "if we fail to make good our threat we will lose enormous face, the initiative, and put ourselves in great danger."
"It was your threat, Sir William, not ours.
As to face you put too much value on it, as to danger--I presume you mean to the Settlement
--damme, Sir, the natives of Japan would not dare to create any major problem. They didn't really bother you at the Legation, they won't really bother Yokohama."
"With the fleet gone, we're helpless."
"Not exactly, Sir William," the
General said stiffly. "The army is here in some strength."
"Quite right," the Admiral agreed, "but Sir
William is perfectly correct to say the
Royal Navy keeps the peace. I plan to take four warships, sir, not five and leave one frigate on station. That should be sufficient.
The Pearl."
Before Marlowe could stop himself, he had said,
"Excuse me sir, she's still undergoing major repairs."
"I'm so glad to know you keep abreast of the state of my fleet, Mr. Marlowe, and that you keep your ears open," the Admiral said witheringly.
"Obviously Pearl can't go on this expedition so you'd best report back aboard and make sure she's in first-class seagoing condition ready for any duty by sundown tomorrow or you won't have a ship."
"Yessir." Marlowe gulped, saluted and rushed off.
The Admiral grunted and said to the General,
"Good officer but not dry behind the ears yet--fine naval family, two brothers also officers and his father's flag captain at Plymouth."
He looked at Sir William. "Don't worry, his frigate will have stepped her mast by tomorrow and be in good order--he's the best of my captains but for God's sake don't tell him I said so.
He'll guard you until I return. If there's nothing else, gentlemen, I put to sea right smartly--so sorry I can't join you for dinner."
Sir William and the General finished their drinks and stood up. "God speed, Admiral
Ketterer, may you come back safely with all hands," Sir William said sincerely, the
General echoing him. Then his face hardened. "If
I don't get any satisfaction from the
Bakufu I will leave for Osaka as planned, in
Pearl or not, at the head of the army or not--but by God, go to Osaka and Ky@oto I will."
"Best wait until I return, best be prudent, best not swear by God to undertake such an ill-advised action, Sir William," the
Admiral said curtly. "God might decide otherwise."
That evening, just before midnight, Angelique,
Phillip Tyrer and Pallidar left the
British Legation and strolled down High
Street heading for the Struan Building. "La," she said happily, "Sir William certainly has a modest chef!"
They were all in evening dress and they laughed for the food had been abundant English fare and especially delicious--a side of roast beef, trays of pork sausages and fresh crabs brought in on ice from Shanghai in the mail ship's ice room as part of the diplomatic pouch and therefore not subject to customs inspection or duty. These were served with boiled vegetables, roast potatoes, also imported from Shanghai, with Yorkshire pudding and followed by apple pies and mince pies with all the claret, Pouilly
Fum`e, port and champagne the twenty guests could drink.
"And when Madam Lunkchurch threw a crab at her husband I thought I would die," she said to more laughter but Tyrer, embarrassed, said,
"I'm afraid some of the so-called traders, and their wives are inclined to be boisterous. Please don't judge all Englishmen, or women, by their behavior."
"Quite right." Pallidar was beaming, delighted that he also had been accepted as part of her escort and conscious that his evening dress uniform and plumed cap made Tyrer's drab frock coat, his old-fashioned and abundant silk cravat and top hat seem even more funereal. "Dreadful people. Without your presence, the evening would have been awful, no doubt at all."
High Street and its side streets were still busy with traders, clerks and others weaving their way home to their dwellings or strolling the promenade, the odd drunk lying by the oil lamps that lit the length of it. An occasional cluster of
Japanese fishermen, carrying oars and nets, and paper lanterns to light their way, trudged up from the shore where their boats were beached, or headed down from the village for their night's fishing.
At the front door of the Struan Building she stopped and held out her hand to be kissed.
"Thank you and good night, dear friends, please don't bother to wait, one of the servants can see me back to the Legation."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Pallidar said at once, taking her hand and holding on for a moment.
"I--we'd be glad to wait," Tyrer assured her.
"But I may be an hour or a few minutes, depending how my fianc`e is."
But they insisted and she thanked them, and she swept past the liveried, armed night watchman, up the stairs, crinoline billowing,
trailing her shawl--still caught up in the excitement of the evening and the adoration that surrounded her. "Hello darling, just wanted to say good night."
Struan wore an elegant red silk dressing gown over a loose shirt and trousers with soft boots, cravat at his throat and he got up out of the chair, the pain deadened now by the elixir