I blinked and touched my head; there was a lump growing like a football. Then here was Solomon, panting like a bellows, clasping my hand and crying: "My dear Harry - are you all right? My poor chap - let me see!" He was volleying out apologies, and Mynn was looking at him pretty cool, I noticed, while Felix fidgeted and the assembling mob were gaping at the sensation.
"You mean - I was out?" says I, trying to collect my wits.
"I'm afraid so!" cries Solomon. "You see, I was so confused, when I shied the ball, I didn't realize it had hit you … saw you lying there, and the ball loose … well, in my excitement I just ran in and snatched it … and broke your wicket. I'm sorry," he repeated, "for of course I'd never have taken advantage … if I'd had time to think. It all happened so quickly, you see." He looked round at the others, smiling whimsically. "Why - it was just like our accident in the first innings - when Flashy put me out."
At that the chatter broke out, and then Elspeth was all over me, exclaiming about my poor head, and calling for salts and hartshorn. I quieted her while I regained my wits and listened to the debate: Mynn was maintaining stoutly that it wasn't fair, running a chap out when he was half-stunned, and Felix said, well, according to the rules, I was fairly out, and anyway, the same sort of thing had happened in Solomon's first hand, which was extra-ordinary, when he came to think of it - Mynn said that was different, because I hadn't realized Solomon was crocked, and Felix said, ah well, that was the point, but Solomon hadn't realized I was crocked, either, and Mynn muttered, didn't he, by George, and if that was the way they played at Eton, he didn't think much of it …
"But … who has won?" demanded Elspeth.
"No one," says Felix. "It's a tie. Flashy ran one run, which made the scores level at 31, and was run out before he could finish the second. So the game's drawn."
"And if you remember," says Solomon - and although his smile was as bland as ever, he couldn't keep the triumphant gleam out of his eye —"you gave me the tie, which means"— and he bowed to Elspeth —"that I shall have the joy of welcoming you, my dear Diana, and your father, aboard my vessel for our cruise. I'm truly sorry our game ended as it did, old chap - but I feel entitled to claim my wager."
Oh, he was indeed, and I knew it. He'd paid me back in my own coin, for felling him in the first innings - it was no consolation that I'd done my dirty work a sight more subtly than he had - not with Elspeth hopping with excitement, clapping her hands, exulting and trying to commiserate with me all at once.
"Tain't cricket," Mynn mutters to me, "but there's nothing for it. Pay up, look pleasant - that's the damnable thing about being English and playing against foreigners; they ain't gentlemen." I doubt if Solomon heard him; he was too busy beaming, with his arm round my shoulders, calling out that there was champagne and oysters in the house, and more beer for the groundlings. So he'd won his bet, without winning the match - well, at least I was clear where Tighe was concerned, for … and then the horrid realization struck me, at the very moment when I looked up and saw that red weskit on the 'outskirts of the crowd, with the boozy, scowling face above it - he was glaring at me, tight-lipped, shredding what I guessed was a betting-slip between his fingers. He nodded at me twice, ominously, turned on his heel, and stalked away.
For Tighe had lost his bet, too. He'd backed me to lose, and Solomon to win - and we had tied. With all my floundering indecision and bad luck, I'd achieved the worst possible result all round. I'd lost Elspeth to Solomon and his damned cruise (for I couldn't oil out of paying now) and I'd cost Tighe a thousand to boot. He'd expose me for taking his money, and set his ruffians after me - oh, Jesus, and there was the Duke, too, vowing vengeance on me for deflowering his tiger lily. What a bloody pickle
"Why, are you all right, old fellow?" cries Solomon. "You've gone pale again - here, help me get him into the shade - fetch some ice for his head—"
"Brandy," I croaked. "No, no, I mean … I'm first-rate; just a passing weakness - the bump, and my old wound, you know. I just need a moment … to recover … collect my thoughts … "
Horrid thoughts they were, too - how the deuce was I going to get out of this mess? And they say cricket's an innocent pastime!
* * *
[Extract from the diary of Mrs Flashman, June 1843]
The most famous thing has happened - darling Harry has consented to come with us on our voyage!!! and I am happy beyond all telling! He has even put aside the Prospect of his Appointment in the Life Guards - and all for Me! It was so unexpected (but that is so like my Dear Hero), for almost as soon as the match was over, and Don S. had claimed his Prize, H. said very seriously, that he had thought the matter over, and while he was reluctant to decline the Military Advancement that had been offered him, he could not bear to be parted from me!! Such Proof of his Devotion moved me to tears, and I could not forbear to embrace him - which display I suppose caused some remark, but I don't care!
Don S., of course, was very warm in agreeing that H. should come, once he had satisfied himself that my dear one was quite determined. Don S. is so good; he reminded H. of what a signal honour he was declining, in not going to the Life Guards, and asked was he perfectly certain he wished to come with us, explaining that he would not have H. make any sacrifice on our account. But My Darling said "No, thank'ee, I'll come, if you don't mind," in that straightforward way of his, rubbing his poor head, and looking so pale but determined. I was overjoyed, and longed to be private with him, so that I might better express my Deep Gratification at his decision, as well as my undying love. But - alas! - that is denied me for the moment, for almost at once H. announced that his decision necessitated his immediate departure for Town, where he has many Affairs to attend to before we sail. I offered to accompany him, of course, but he wouldn't hear of it, so reluctant is he to interrupt my holiday here - he is the Dearest of Husbands! So considerate. He explained that his Business would take him about a good deal, and he could not say where he would be for a day or so, but would join us at Dover, whence we sail for the Mysterious Orient.
So he has gone, not even staying to answer an invitation from our dear friend the Duke, to call upon him. I am instructed to say to all inquiries that he is gone away, on Private Business - for of course there are always People anxious to see and solicit my darling, so celebrated as he has become - not only Dukes and the like, but quite Ordinary Mortals as well, who hope to shake his hand, I dare say, and then tell their Acquaintances of it afterwards. In the meantime, dear diary, I am left alone - except for the company of Don S., of course, and dear Papa - to anticipate the Great Adventure which lies before us, and await that Joyous Reunion with my Beloved at Dover, which will be but the Prelude, I trust, to our Fairy-tale Journey into the Romantic Unknown …
[End of extract - G. de R.]
It was one thing to decide to go on Solomon's cruise, but quite another to get safe aboard; I had to spend ten days lurking in and about London like a gunpowder plotter, starting at my own shadow and keeping an eye skinned for the Duke's pluggers - and Daedalus Tighe's. You may think I was over-timid, and the danger none so great, but you don't know what people like the Duke were capable of in my young days; they thought they were still in the eighteenth century, and if you offended 'em they could have their bullies thrash you, and then trust to their title to keep them clear of the consequences. I was never a Reform Bill man myself, but there's no doubt the aristocracy needed its comb cutting.
In any event, it required no great arithmetic to decide to flee the country for a spell. It was sickening to have to give up the Life Guards, but if Tighe spread a scandal about me it might well force me to resign anyway - you could be an imbecile viscount with a cleft palate and still fit to command in the Household Brigade, but if they found you were taking a bookie's tin for favours, heaven help you, however famous a soldier you were. So there was nothing for it but to lie doggo until the boat sailed, and make one furtive visit to Horse Guards to tip Uncle Bindley the bad news. He quivered with disbelief down the length of his
aristocratic spine when I told him.
"Do I apprehend," says he, "that you are refusing an appointment - free of purchase, may I remind you - in the Household Brigade, which has been specially procured for you at Lord Wellington's instance, in order to go junketing abroad with your wife, her extraordinary father, and this
. this person from Threadneedle Street?" He shuddered. "It is nothing short of commercial travelling."
"Can't be helped," says I. "There's no staying in England just now."
"You realize this is tantamount to refusing an honour from the Throne itself? That you can never again hope for any similar mark of favour? I know that you are dead to most dictates of decent behaviour and common discretion, but surely even you can see—"
"Dammit, uncle!" cries I. "I've got to go!"
He squinted down his long nose. "You sound almost desperate. Am I right in supposing there will be some scandal if you do not?"
"Yes," says I, reluctantly.
"Well, then that is entirely different," cries he. "Why could you not say so at once? I suppose it is some woman or other."
I admitted it, and dropped a hint that the Duke of- was involved, but that it was all a misunderstanding, and Bindley sniffed again and said he had never known a time when the quality of the House of Peers was quite so low. He would speak to Wellington, he said, and since it was advisable for the family's credit that I should not be seen to be cutting the painter, he would see if some official colour couldn't be given to my Far Eastern visit. The result was that a day or two later, at the room over the pawn-shop where I was hiding out, I got a note instructing me to proceed forthwith to Singapore, there to examine and approve the first consignment of Australian horses which would be arriving next spring12 for the Company's Indian Army. Well done, old Bindley; he had his uses.
So then it was just a question of skulking down to Dover for the last of the month, which I accomplished, arriving after dark and legging it along the crowded quay with my valise, hoping to God that neither Tighe nor the Duke had camped out their ruffians to intercept me (they hadn't, of course, but if I've lived this long it's because I've always feared the worst and been ready for it). A boat took me out to Solomon's steam-brig, and there was a great reunion with my loved ones - Elspeth all over me clamouring to know where I had been, she was quite distracted, and Old Morrison grunting: "Huh, ye've come, at the coo's tail as usual," and muttering about a thief in the night. Solomon seemed delighted to see me, but I wasn't fooled - he was just masking his displeasure that he wouldn't have a clear run at Elspeth. That quite consoled me to making the voyage; it might be devilish inconvenient, in some ways, and I couldn't be quite easy in my mind at venturing East again, but at least I'd have my flighty piece under my eye. Indeed, when I reflected, that was my prime reason for going, and rated even above escaping Tighe and the Duke; looking back from mid-Channel, they didn't seem nearly so terrible, and I resigned myself to enjoying the cruise; why, it might turn out to be quite fun.
I'll give it to Solomon, he hadn't lied about the luxury of his brig, the Sulu Queen. She was quite the latest thing in screw vessels, driven by a wheel through her keel, twin-masted for sail, and with her funnel well back, so that the whole forward deck, which was reserved for us, was quite free of the belching smoke which covered the stern with smuts and left a great black cloud in our wake. Our cabins were under-deck aft, though, out of the reek, and they were tip-top; oak furniture screwed down, Persian carpets, panelled bulkheads with watercolour paintings, a mirrored dressing-table that had Elspeth clapping her hands, Chinese curtains, excellent crystal and a well-stocked cellarette, clockwork fans, and a double bed with silk sheets that would have done credit to a New Orleans sporting-house. Well, thinks I, this is better than riding the gridiron*(* Travelling on an East Indiaman.) we'll be right at home here.
The rest of the appointment was to match; the saloon, where we dined, couldn't have been bettered for grub, liquor and service - even old Morrison, who'd been groaning reluctantly, I gathered, ever since he'd agreed to come, had his final doubts settled when they set his first sea meal before him; he was even seen to smile, which I'll bet he hadn't done since he last cut the mill-hands' wages. Solomon was a splendid host, with every thought for our comfort; he even spent the first week pottering about the coast while we got our sea-legs, and was full of consideration for Elspeth - when she discovered that she had left her toilet water behind he had her maid landed at Portsmouth to go up to Town for some, with instructions to meet us at Plymouth; it was royal treatment, no error, and damn all expense.
Only two things raised a prickle with me in all this idyllic luxury. One was the crew: there wasn't a white face among 'em. When I was helped aboard that first night, it was by two grinning yellow-faced rascals in reefer jackets and bare feet; I tried 'em in Hindi, but they just grinned with brown fangs and shook their heads. Solomon explained that they were Malays; he had a few half-caste Arabs aboard as well, who were his engineers and black gang, but no Europeans except the skipper, a surly enough Frog with a touch of nigger in his hair, who messed in his cabin, so that we never saw him, hardly. I didn't quite care for the all-yellow crew, though - I like to hear a British or Yankee voice in the foc'sle; it's reassuring-like. Still, Solomon was a Far East trader, and part-breed himself, so it was perhaps natural enough. He had 'em under his heel, too, and they kept well clear of us, except for the Chink stewards, who were sleek and silent and first-rate.
The other thing was that the Sulu Queen, while she was fitted like a floating palace, carried ten guns, which is about as many as a brig will bear. I said it seemed a lot for a pleasure-yacht, and Solomon smiled and says:
"She is too valuable a vessel to risk, in Far Eastern waters, where even the British and Dutch navies can afford little protection. And"— bowing to us —"she carries a precious cargo. Piracy is not unknown in the islands, you know, and while its victims are usually defenceless native craft - well, I believe in being over-cautious."
"Ye mean - there's danger?" goggled Morrison.
"Not," says Solomon, "with ten guns aboard."
And to settle old Morrison's qualms, and show off to Elspeth, he had all forty of his crew perform a gun practice for our benefit. They were handy, all right, scampering about the white-scrubbed deck in their tunics and short breeches, running out the pieces and ramming home cold shot to the squeal of the Arab bosun's pipe, precise as guardsmen, and afterwards standing stock-still by their guns, like so many yellow idols. Then they performed cutlass-drill and arms drill, moving like clockwork, and I had to admit that trained troops couldn't have shaped better; what with her speed and handiness, the Sulu Queen was fit to tackle anything short of a man-of-war.
"It is merely precaution piled on precaution," says Solomon. "My estates lie on peaceful lanes, on the Malay mainland for the most part, and I take care never to venture where I might be blown into less friendly waters. But I believe in being prepared," and he went on to talk about his iron water-tanks, and stores of sealed food - I'd still have been happier to see a few white faces and brown whiskers around us. We were three white folk - and Solomon himself, of course - and we were outward bound, after all.
However, these thoughts were soon dispelled in the interest of the voyage. I shan't bore you with descriptions, but I'm bound to say it was the pleasantest cruise of my life, and we never noticed how the weeks slipped by. Solomon had spoken of three months to Singapore; in fact, it took us more than twice as long, and we never grudged a minute of it. Through the summer we cruised gently along the French and Spanish coasts, looking in at Brest and Vigo and Lisbon, being entertained lavishly by local gentry - for Solomon seemed to have a genius for easy acquaintance - and then dipping on down the African coast, into the warm latitudes. I can look back now and say I've made that run more times than I can count, in everything from an Indiaman to a Middle Passage slaver, but this was not like any common voyage - why, we picnicked on Moroccan beaches, made excursions to desert ruins beyond Casablanca,
were carried on camels with veiled drivers, strolled in Berber market-places, watched fire-dancers under the massive walls of old corsair castles, saw wild tribesmen run their horse races, took coffee with turbaned, white-bearded governors, and even bathed in warm blue water lapping on miles and miles of empty silver sand with palms nodding in the breeze - and every evening there was the luxury of the Sulu Queen to return to, with its snowy cloths and sparkling silver and crystal, and the delicate Chink stewards attending to every want in the cool dimness of the saloon. Well, I've been a Crown Prince, once, in my wanderings, but I've never seen the like of that voyage.
"It is a fairy-tale!" Elspeth kept exclaiming, and even old Morrison admitted it wasn't half bad - the old bastard became positively mellow, as why shouldn't he, waited on hand and foot, with two slant-eyed and muscular yellow devils to carry him ashore and bear him in a palki on our excursions? "It's daein' me guid," says he, "I can feel the benefit." And Elspeth would sigh dreamily while they fanned her in the shade, and Solomon would smile and beckon the steward to put more ice in the glasses - oh, aye, he even had a patent ice-house stowed away somewhere, down by the keel.
Farther south, along the jungly and desert coasts, there was no lack of entertainment - a cruise up a forest river in the ship's launch, with Elspeth wide-eyed at the sight of crocodiles, which made her shudder deliciously, or laughing at the antics of monkeys and marvelling at the brilliance of foliage and bird-life. "Did I not tell you, Diana, how splendid it would be?" Solomon would say, and Elspeth would exclaim rapturously, "Oh, you did, you did - but this is quite beyond imagination!" Or there would be flying-fish, and porpoises, and once we were round the Cape - where we spent a week, dining out ashore and attending a ball at the Governor's, which pleased Elspeth no end - there was the real deep blue sea of the Indian Ocean, and more marvels for my insatiable relatives. We began the long haul across to India in perfect weather, and at night Solomon would fetch his guitar and sing dago dirges in the dusk, with Elspeth drowsing on a daybed by the rail, while Morrison cheated me at écarté, or we would play whist, or just laze the time contentedly away. It was tame stuff, if you like, but I put up with it - and kept my eye on Solomon.
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