*
I’m saying all of this for only one reason, which is to explain how it was that I didn’t feel too despondent when the moment came for us all to part company. In fact I even experienced a sort of relief, at least as far as Nain-Sain was concerned. I had never much liked his silent and reserved ways. Recently, and without knowing why exactly, I had got to the point where I could no longer stand his presence, perhaps because of that business with the pulley. As for himself, before he took his leave of us, he was only waiting to be properly paid what was due to him, firstly under his contract with Sanders, and secondly with any legacy which Sanders might possibly have left to him. He had no reason to be unhappy, since to whatever he received from Sanders, who had arranged everything very handsomely, I thought I should add, in my own name, a tidy sum, although I still don’t fully understand why, in view of the sentiments which I have just expressed. In short, we bade each other farewell, with him calling down on my head thousands and thousands of blessings, and with me forming at the bottom of my heart the wish never to meet him again, either in this world, or even less in the next.
Ilichine and Welowski took the train to Peking, where they thought they would live it up a bit to start with, and then as officers in the army of the ‘War Lord’, join the service of Marshal Tchang-Tso-Lin, who was preparing, slowly but surely, to lay siege to that city. Neratov and the Koreans decided that they would come with me as far as Tsing-Tao. From there they would get to Fouzan on a Japanese mail ship, where the Koreans would resume in a short while their family life, and Neratov had the idea of going on a tiger hunt on his own account, in the frozen country of Ussuri. The ship on which they sailed departed several days ahead of the one which was due to take me South. Thus I stayed alone in Tsing-Tao for almost a week. A steamer called in after three days, en route to Singapore. I could easily have embarked on it, and then taken another ship from Singapore to Sydney. Yes, but this ship was of no use to me, since it didn’t go anywhere near Macao.
Meanwhile, between Kalgan and Tsing-Tao, and in the best interests of the Sanders company name, which is to say my name, I succeeded in disposing of all our expedition equipment, for which we no longer had any immediate need. In doing so I became quite a businessman. The region which we had just crossed was under the control of a general by the name of Ou-Pei-Fou, who was preparing to march against Marshal Tchang-Tso-Lin. With the help of some bribes judiciously distributed among the officers in his headquarters, it wasn’t very difficult for me to sell to him one of my lorries and three of the four cars. An evangelical association in Tsing-Tao bought the rest, all at a price above what Sanders had paid for them when new. That wasn’t at all bad for some vehicles which had been sent on quite a journey such as the one we had undertaken in the Gobi Desert. As for the guns and ammunition which I still had, I hardly dare admit the profit I made from them. China has always been the ideal country for this type of operation.
So one can see that all in all I had no reason to regret having met, six months earlier, Jack Sanders on the quayside in Fouzan. The week that I spent in Tsing-Tao allowed me to put all my affairs in order. I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of money which I had already accumulated. And all that was nothing compared to what I was going to get from the sale of my tiger, at a price which the people of Sydney would be only too happy to pay. Besides, I was seriously thinking of getting competing bids – why shouldn’t I? – from other buyers in the old world and in the new world. It was Sanders who had a moral obligation to the buyers in Sydney. But as for me, I had no reason at all to confuse the question of self-interest with that of sentiment.
Sanders had often told me that without Kublai, I would be well-off, but no more than that; with Kublai, I would get a fortune. Now, here he was, this dear little animal, magnificent and resplendent in white, in the garden overlooking the sea which I had rented especially in order to install his cage, staring with a somnolent and mocking eye at the crowd of privileged people who came to file past him every day. What a superb and terrifying creature! When I looked at him I felt my heart swelling both with pride and with a religious horror. I can say that during that week my happiness would have been complete if I had received a single word, just one, in reply to the seven or eight telegrams which, since returning to civilisation, I had sent to Macao. But it was interesting, however, that I wasn’t too worried by this silence. I knew only too well the unreliable way in which the telegraph system worked in that part of the world. Besides, I wasn’t sure that I had Alzire’s exact address. And the one which I had given to her to reply to me wasn’t very precise either. Fortunately all that would soon be cleared up. After all the trials which we had experienced, both she and I, this would only be just one more, that’s all!
*
Apart from this light cloud which no doubt would soon clear, I had to admit that I was very lucky. The ship which was going to take me to Singapore was an excellent French vessel, the Paul-Lecat of the maritime freight service, under the command of a charming officer called Captain Rozoor, who in addition to his nautical abilities played the violin delightfully. The two luxury cabins were vacant. I was quick to reserve both of them, since I had good reason to hope that on leaving Macao, the Paul-Lecat would have another passenger, a female passenger to be precise. You must believe me when I say that this was a completely different type of organisation to the miserable Bendigo, where the few minutes that I spent in Alzire’s sparse cabin were enough for me to get a glimpse of rats as big as rabbits, and cockroaches as fat and as chubby as rats.
As for Kublai, he was enjoying his almost princely position at the prow of the ship. He liked the fresh sea air, which was important for an animal who was at great risk to the contrast between the terrible heat of the China Sea and the glacial climate of the Gobi. Everybody, including the crew, was prohibited from crossing a barrier which the ship’s carpenter had put up to protect him from the curious. He seemed well aware of the attention which he was getting, and as far as Singapore at least, he behaved with almost perfect correctness and good manners. Every now and then he allowed himself a discreet growl, intended, I’m sure, to drown out the sirens on board the ship, when they all seemed to sound at the same time.
The incomprehensible wish that I had to split up with my travelling companions as soon as possible, this desire which I have already talked about, perhaps led me to make a mistake. I could certainly, without having to insist on it, have got one of them to remain in my service, so as to give my tiger all the care which he needed. Youen, for example, would have been ideal for that. Now I had to leave it to the sailors, who no doubt did their best, but who failed completely to give me the peace of mind which I wanted. I lived with a vague fear that there would be some accident. I would have been astonished if someone had told me the name of the person who would remove this care from me. And this person himself could hardly have foreseen, when we met for the first time, such a bizarre succession of events.
There were only two ports of call – Shanghai and Hong Kong – before Macao. If I had had the slightest bit of imagination I think I would have died from happiness and vanity in each of these great cities. But I can say that I became intoxicated with my celebrity status. My photograph was in all the papers, with my biography full of flattering and inaccurate details. The Paul-Lecat had not even dropped anchor when it was besieged by a swarm of journalists. I wish that the hero of the day could have been my tiger. But it was me, rather than him, who was invited to lunch and to dinner by all the local dignitaries. Already Sydney Zoo had been alerted and was cabling its congratulations. Hagenbeck in Hamburg didn’t remain quiet, nor did all the Barnums of America or Europe. Dear Kublai, I shed a few tears when I thought of everything that I owed to him! Never had he been on such good form, and so beautiful, than under that infernal tropical sun, which for his sake I had worried about so much. He was as white as the snow of his native country, with a whiteness that was clean and shiny, but where suddenly, when the light played in a certain way, the
long, underlying stripes shone through, in the same way that you can see the watermark in a sheet of high-quality paper, or the gleaming ripples on the surface of the coat of the black panther of Java.
At first I was worried that he would be bothered by this endless crowd of admirers, respectfully proceeding one after the other in front of his cage. But not a bit of it! On the contrary, it was wonderful to see how pleasantly he adapted to it. One could even have said that he felt more than a little bit flattered by this type of compliment. So for example he seemed to take a great pleasure in letting himself be photographed, winking and sticking out his magnificent pink tongue. The women were especially wild about him. It was all one could do to prevent them from getting too close to the bars of the cage. The men were equally enthusiastic, but perhaps listened a bit more closely to the voice of reason.
*
‘My dear sir, what do you want me to say? It is true that we engaged this lady. That goes back to more than six months ago. Here is her contract. It is nonetheless also true, unfortunately, that we have never seen her again since then. I use the term unfortunately because M. Van Frikh, our manager, had the kindness to agree to quite a substantial advance for her. It goes without saying that he hasn’t allowed himself such generosity since then, even in the case of deserving artists. It’s the same everywhere. The good always pay for the bad.’
M. Van Frikh, the director and proprietor of the Macao casino, was away when I presented myself at his office, less than an hour after the Paul-Lecat tied up in the dock. It was his secretary, a young Portuguese man, all scented and powdered, who was relating this to me. He could see my confusion.
‘I am very sorry, sir. For people such as yourself we would like to convey only good news. One can see straightaway who one is dealing with, isn’t that so? But if it is your intention to spend a few days in Macao, I am sure that you will become a client of our house, and then . . ‘Kindness, charm, and a good education’, that is the motto of M. Van Frikh, when it comes to recruiting his artistic staff. What is surprising with these principles . . . . But please, do take a seat!’
I did as he said. It was about half-past eleven in the morning. We were on a beautiful, spacious, and shaded terrace, overlooking the sea. The silver blades of innumerable fans were all turning. Men were laughing, taking their whisky in the company of young, made-up women, naked under their silk robes. Two or three of them were looking at me. Some of them were really very attractive.
I didn’t know what to think any more, or what to say! Never had I felt so close to tears. What was I doing there? Ah! I shouldn’t stay a minute longer! I must get back to the ship as soon as possible! And then to sleep! . . . . . A feeling of nausea took hold of me. But no, this was all too ridiculous. I couldn’t leave just like that! There was definitely more I could do, more questions I could ask! . . . . .
‘But the telegrams sir, yes, the telegrams! They were all forwarded weren’t they? If not, what happened to them? I can’t have sent less than about ten. Speak! Reassure me! Tell me! . . . ‘
He shook his head with a mixture of deference and helpless commiseration.
‘You are right, dear sir! Yes, the telegrams! I should have thought of them straightaway, of course. The first few were resent to Fouzan, I think, to an address which I forget, but which was the address of the lady in question, at the time we were dealing with her. We have received nothing in reply, nothing! Since then, according to the instructions from M. Van Frikh, we have been keeping everything that has arrived for that name. Perhaps one day we shall get some news. In that case, you only have to leave us your address, and we shall be pleased to . . . . But M. Van Frikh will be back early this afternoon. If only you could stay to lunch you will be sure to meet him. He will be very pleased and honoured.’
I got up. ‘Thank you,’ I said, still confused. ‘Thank you again.’
*
On board the Paul-Lecat, where I found myself half an hour later, without knowing how I got there, I came across the chief steward. He was watching me.
‘Someone was asking for you sir, while you were out,’ he said.
‘Asking for me?’
Automatically I thought of Van Frikh.
‘Who was it? Where is he?’ I asked hurriedly.
‘He’s in the third class section.’
‘Let him meet me in the bar. I’ll wait for him there.’
The steward leant towards me.
‘I hope your honour will kindly excuse me. If I took the liberty to ask this person to remain where he was, it was because he was someone of modest circumstances, very modest. I hope your honour understands.’
‘Understood! I’ll go down there myself’ I said wearily.
I set off to where he indicated.
*
I could see my visitor from some way off. He was indeed a man of modest, in fact very modest, circumstances. Some scrounger, most likely. There had been several like him, coming up to me at each port of call, indisputable proof of my success. But this one was unquestionably the most tattered, the most pitiful, of all. An unkempt beard, a pale, emaciated face, consumed by the light of two enormous eyes, which burned feverishly. With all of that there was a battered, grimy cap, and a miserable suit of undyed silk. Just then I thought of myself six months earlier, standing on the quayside at Fouzan. But I must say there was no possible comparison. Then I was a model of elegance compared to the pathetic wreck which now stood before me.
‘What can I do for you, my friend?’ I asked.
At first he didn’t say anything. He just carried on looking at me. Then he began to laugh, in a mournful, spluttering, little laugh.
‘Have I changed as much as that?’ he said at last. And hearing that voice, I jumped.
‘Is it you?’
Again he laughed. ‘Ah! Here’s someone who’s doing all right for himself. One might say you took your time,’ he muttered.
‘Is it really you?’ I asked again.
He shrugged his shoulders, as if to mock me. ‘Oh yes’ he said. ‘Just as you see. It’s me all right. Otto Streep!’
XVIII
This was a man who had never liked to drink, as Sanders had told me often enough. This did not prevent him, when we got to the bar in third class, the nearest one to us, from knocking back two glasses of whisky, one after the other.
‘There! That’s better! Now could you do me a favour? Before doing anything else, there is something that I really want to see.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Him.’
*
Silently, I took him up to the prow of the ship. Kublai had just been given his food; a whole half of a black pig which he was in the process of tearing to shreds. My companion didn’t say anything. He pressed his forehead against the bars of the cage. The animal interrupted his meal. They both stared at each other.
‘Be careful’ I murmured.
Streep shrugged his shoulders. ‘Are you joking? Anyone would think I’m not used to this. You just have no guts.’
I noticed a large tear rolling down his cheek.
*
‘And . . . her?’ I murmured, a burning question for me for the past twenty minutes since he arrived.
He winced. ‘Her?’ he said. ‘Oh yes of course! I’ve come here especially to talk to you about her.’
‘Is she all right?’
He laughed. ‘But of course she’s all right! Better than you. Better than me at any rate!’
‘She was your mistress, wasn’t she?’ I asked after another silence.
He looked at me with genuine astonishment.
‘So what?’ Would I be here otherwise? And especially in this condition? Anyone would think that you didn’t know her. How can you ask me such a question?’
‘So it’s true!’ I said. ‘Excuse me.’
‘No harm done. I don’t bear any grudge against you, even though it was through you that I met her. If anyone had told me that such a thing would happen! I was a serious man, you know. I had do
ne everything to banish chance from my life. I used to laugh at those who didn’t take the same precautions. This is the result!’
He pointed to his frayed, miserable suit.
‘Where is she?’ I asked.
He shrugged. ‘So you haven’t got over all that, while you were away? You’re still thinking about her, as well?’
I went a bit pale. ‘Where is she?’ I repeated.
‘In Singapore! Since you insist so much on knowing.’
‘Of course I insist! Besides, haven’t you yourself just told me that you have come here with the sole purpose of telling me about her?’
He sighed. ‘That’s true, yes. But I warn you, it’s a long story!’
‘In Singapore, you said? And you, where have you come from? From Singapore as well, I suppose?’
‘Of course! I read in the papers everything about you, that you were coming. I knew you would be calling at Macao.’
‘So it was she who sent you?’
He looked at me with astonishment. ‘She who sent me? Are you crazy? Haven’t you understood anything?’
‘Listen,’ I said sternly, ‘You said it was a long story. I’ve got all the time we need. Besides, I don’t suppose it matters to you whether you’re here or there. Our ship weighs anchor at seven o’clock. You come with me. I’ll take care of everything to do with your boarding.’
I thrust a one-hundred dollar note into his hand. ‘Go ashore. Buy what you need then come back. You can’t stay dressed like that.’
The Gobi Desert Page 15