He saw Struan’s longboat approaching. Struan was sitting disconsolately amidships. The Tai-Pan’s gravity reminded Longstaff about the malaria. What the devil are we going to do about that, eh? Ruins the whole strategy of Hong Kong, what?
Struan was staring out the stern windows waiting patiently for Longstaff to finish.
“’Pon me word, Dirk, it was almost as though Ching-so knew we were going to demand six million taels. The ransom was instantly ready. To the penny. He was most apologetic for the raping of the Settlement. He said it was those damned anarchists—the Triads. He’s ordered a thorough investigation and hopes to be able to crush them once and for all. It seems that one of their leaders has fallen into his hands. If he can’t get anything out of the man, no one can. He promised to tell me at once the names of the Triads here.”
Struan turned from the windows and sat in a deep leather chair. “That’s very good, Will. I’d say you’ve done a remarkable job. Remarkable.”
Longstaff felt very pleased. “I must say things went according to plan. Oh, by the way. The information you sent about the pirate Wu Kwok. I would have preferred you to lead the flotilla, but the admiral was adamant. He went himself.”
“That’s his privilege. Let’s hope he does a good job tonight. I’ll rest a lot easier if that devil’s sunk.”
“Quite right.”
“Now all you have to do is to save Hong Kong, Will. Only you can do it,” Struan said, praying that once more he would make Longstaff put into effect the plan he had eventually devised as the only way to save the necks of all of them. “I think it advisable for you to order an immediate abandonment of Happy Valley.”
“Bless my soul, Dirk,” Longstaff cried, “if I do that, well—that’s tantamount to abandoning Hong Kong!”
“Queen’s Town’s malarial. At least Happy Valley is. So it has to be abandoned.”
Longstaff shakily took some snuff. “I can’t order the abandonment. That’d make me responsible for all losses.”
“Aye. You’ve decided to use the six million taels to reimburse everyone.”
“Good God. I can’t do that!” Longstaff burst out. “The bullion belongs to the Crown. The Crown—only the Crown—can decide what to do with it!”
“You’ve decided that Hong Kong’s too valuable to risk. You know you’ve got to move quickly. It’s a gesture worthy of a governor.”
“I absolutely can’t, Dirk! Not at all. Impossible!”
Struan went over to the sideboard and poured two glasses of sherry. “Your entire future depends on it.”
“Eh? It does? How?”
Struan gave him a glass. “Your reputation at court is tied to Hong Kong. Your whole Asian policy—and that means the Crown’s Asian policy—is focused on Hong Kong. Rightly. Without Hong Kong safe the governor, on Her Majesty’s behalf, will na be able to dominate Asia as he should. Without a town built there’s nae safety for you or for the Crown. Happy Valley’s dead. So a new town must be built and quickly.” Struan drank the sherry and savored it. “If you immediately reimburse those who’ve built, you’ll restore confidence at once. All the traders will rally to your support—which you’ll need in the future. Dinna forget, Will, many have considerable influence at court. It’s a grand gesture, one worthy of you. Besides, the reimbursement is really being paid for by the Chinese anyway.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Within three months you’ll be at the gates of Peking, commander-in-chief of an invincible force. The cost of the expedition will be, say, four million. Add six million for the damage to the Settlement. Ten million. But you ask fourteen million, which would be fair indemnity. The extra four million will be the basis of your Hong Kong government treasury—and thus one of the richest colonial treasuries in the Empire. Actually, instead of fourteen you will demand twenty million: The extra six repays the six you—in your shrewdness—‘invested’ in Hong Kong on the Crown’s behalf. Dinna forget, without a safe base you canna dare make the attack north. Without Hong Kong safe, England’s dead in Asia. Without Hong Kong safe you’re dead. You’re thinking of the whole future of England, Will. It’s that simple!”
Struan could sense Longstaff’s mind churning the possibilities. This was the only possible solution. The only way everyone could save face and save the island. And the instant he saw Longstaff open his mouth to speak he said, “A last thing, Will. You get the money back at once, most of it.”
“Eh?”
“You hold a land sale immediately. The bidding will be furious for the new lots. Where does the money go? Back into your government treasury. You gain all ways. The land you’re selling costs you nothing. You know how desperately you need money for all the problems of government—salaries, police, the governor’s palace, roads, law courts, harbor vessels and a thousand other things, and you certainly canna use the ransom money as such. I’d say that it would be a statesmanlike masterstroke. You have to make the decision now because it’s impossible for you to wait six months for a dispatch to go to England and the obvious approval to arrive back here. You save Hong Kong at no cost. But most of all you show Zergeyev very bluntly that England plans to stay in Asia permanently. I’d say, Will, your astuteness would impress the entire Cabinet. And certainly her Majesty the Queen. And permanent honors go with such approval.”
Eight bells sounded. Longstaff took out his fob watch. It was slow, and he turned the hands to noon as his mind tried to find a flaw in Struan’s reasoning. There was none, he told himself. He felt queasy at the realization that but for the Tai-Pan he would have done nothing about the fever. Except stay out of the valley, hoping that a cure would turn up. He, too, had been perturbed by the epidemic, but, well, it was more important to win the Canton war first.
Yes. There’s no flaw. Damn it, you almost jeopardized a brilliant future. Certainly it’s exceeding instructions, but then governors and plenipotentiaries have unwritten powers and therefore it’s only an expedient extension of necessity. We can’t wait till next year to implant Her Majesty’s will on the heathen. Absolutely not. And the scheme about the tea seeds fits neatly into the design and shows foresight on a scale that even surpasses the Tai-Pan’s.
Longstaff had an overpowering impulse to tell Struan about the seeds. But he controlled himself. “I think you’re right. I’ll make the announcement right away.”
“Why do you na call a meeting of the tai-pans tomorrow? Give them two days to present construction and land bills to your treasurer. Set the new land sale for a week hence. That’ll give you time to get the lots surveyed. I suppose you’ll want the new townsite to be near Glessing’s Point.”
“Yes. My thought entirely. That will be the best spot. After all, it was one we considered a long time back.” Longstaff got up and poured more sherry, then tugged the bellpull. “As always, I’m pleased to have your counsel, Dirk. You’ll lunch, of course.”
“I’d better be getting along. Sarah’s leaving for home with the tide tomorrow, aboard Calcutta Maharajah, and there’s a great deal to do.”
“Very bad luck. About Robb and your niece.”
The door opened. “Yes, sorr?” the master-at-arms asked.
“Ask the general if he’ll join me for lunch.”
“Yes, sorr. Beggin’ yor pardon, sorr, but Mrs. Quance is waiting to see you. And Mr. Quance. Then there’s all these”—he gave Longstaff a long list of names—“wot’ve come by to ask for appointments. Shall I say yo’re busy to Mrs. Quance?”
“No. I’d better see her now. Please don’t go yet, Dirk. I’m afraid I may need moral support.”
Maureen Quance strode in. Aristotle Quance followed her. There were dark rings under his lifeless eyes. Now he was simply a drab little man. Even his clothes were untidy and colorless.
“Morning, Mrs. Quance,” Longstaff said.
“The saints preserve Yor Excellency on this foin day.”
“Morning, Your Excellency,” Aristotle said, his voice barely audible, his eyes on the deck of the cabin.<
br />
“Good day to you, Tai-Pan,” Maureen said. “There’ll be a settlin’ of yor bill with the grace of St. Patrick himself, in a few days.”
“There’s nae hurry. Morning, Aristotle.”
Aristotle Quance slowly looked up at Struan. His eyes filled with tears as he read the warmth on Struan’s face. “She broke all my brushes, Dirk,” he choked out. “This morning. All of them. And my—she threw my paints in the sea.”
“It’s about that we’re acoming to see you, Yor Excellency,” Maureen said thickly. “Mr. Quance’s decided to give up all that painting folderol at long last. He wants to settle down to a nice steady job. And it’s about a job we’ve come to see Yor Excellency.” She looked back at her husband and her face wearied. “Anything at all. So long as it’s steady and pays a fair wage.” She turned back to Longstaff. “A nice clerking job, perhaps. Poor Mr. Quance hasn’t much experience.”
“Is, er, that what you want, Aristotle?”
“She broke my brushes,” Quance said hopelessly. “That’s all I had. My paints and brushes.”
“We agreed, me foin boy, didn’t we now? By all that’s holy? Eh? No more painting. A nice steady job and stand up to your responsibilities to yor family, and no more galavanting.”
“Yes,” Aristotle said numbly.
“I’d be glad to offer a post, Mrs. Quance,” Struan broke in. “I need a clerk. Pay’s fifteen shillings a week. I’ll throw in your lodgings on the hulk for one year. After that you’re on your own.”
“May the saints preserve you, Tai-Pan. Done. Now thank the Tai-Pan,” Maureen said.
“Thank you, Tai-Pan.”
“Be at the office at seven o’clock tomorrow morning, Aristotle. Sharp, now.”
“He’ll be there, Tai-Pan, don’t you be after worrying. May the blessings of St. Peter be on you in these troubled times for looking after a poor wife and her starving children. Good day to you both.”
They left. Longstaff poured himself a stiff drink. “Good God. I’d never’ve believed it. Poor, poor Aristotle. You’re really going to make Aristotle Quance a clerk?”
“Aye. Better me than some other. I’m shorthanded.” Struan put on his hat, very satisfied with himself. “I’m na one to interfere twixt husband and wife. But anyone who’d do that to old Aristotle’s nae right to the title ‘wife,’ by God!”
Longstaff smiled suddenly. “I’ll detach a capital ship if it’ll help. The total resources of Her Majesty’s Government are at your disposal.”
——
Struan hurried ashore. He hailed a closed sedan chair and directed the coolies.
“Wait-ah, savvy?” he said as it arrived at its destination. “Savvy, Mass’er.”
He walked past the surprised doorman into the parlor of the house. The room was carpeted—large sofas, chintz curtains, mirrors and bric-a-brac. There was a rustle from the back and then approaching footsteps. A small old lady came through the bead curtains. She was neat and starched and gray-haired, with big eyes and spectacles.
“Hello, Mrs. Fortheringill,” Struan said politely.
“Well, Tai-Pan, how nice to see you,” she said. “We haven’t had the pleasure of your company in many a long year. It’s a little early for callers, but the young ladies are making themselves presentable.” She smiled and revealed her yellowed false teeth.
“Well, you see, Mrs. Fortheringill—”
“I quite understand, Tai-Pan,” she said knowingly. “There comes a time in every man’s life when he—”
“It’s about a friend of mine.”
“Don’t you worry, Tai-Pan, mum’s the word in this establishment. No need to worry. We’ll have you fixed in a jiffy.” She got up hastily. “Girls!” she called out.
“Sit down and listen to me! It’s about Aristotle!”
“Oh! That poor bleeder’s got himself in a proper mess.” Struan told her what he wanted, and the girls were sad for him to leave. As soon as he got home, May-may said, “Wat for you go whorehouse, heya?”
He sighed, and told her.
“You think I believe that, heya?” Her eyes were spiteful.
“Aye. You’d better.”
“I believe you, Tai-Pan.”
“Then stop looking like a dragon!” He went into his room.
“Good,” May-may said as she closed the door behind them. “Now we see if you telled truth. We make love at once. I’m madly desiring you, Tai-Pan.”
“Thank you, but I’m busy,” he said, finding it difficult to keep from laughing.
“Ayee yah on your busy,” she said, beginning to unbutton her honeycolored pajamas. “We make love immediate. I soon see if some mealymouthed whore’s took your strength, by God. And then your old mother’ll deal with you, by God.”
“You’re busy too,” Struan said.
“I’m very busy.” She stepped out of her silk trousers. Her earrings jingled like bells. “And you better have busy plenty very quick.”
He studied her and allowed none of his happiness to show. Her stomach was curved nicely with the child four months in her womb. He took her quickly in his arms and kissed her violently and lay on the bed and let his weight crush her a little.
“Be careful, Tai-Pan,” she said breathlessly, “I’m na one of your busom-boned barbarian giants! Kissing does na prove nothing. Off with clotheses, then we see for truth!”
He kissed her again. Then she said in a different voice, “Take off clotheses.”
He leaned on his elbows and looked down at her, then rubbed his nose against hers, no longer teasing. “There’s nae time now. I’ve got to go to an engagement party and you’ve got to pack.”
“Wat for pack?” she asked startled.
“You’re moving to Resting Cloud.”
“Why?”
“Our fêng shui’s bad here, lassie.”
“Oh good, oh very terrifical good!” She flung her arms around him. “Truly go from here? For always?”
“Aye.”
She kissed him and quickly slid from under his arms and began to dress.
“I thought you wanted to make love,” he said.
“Huh! Wat for is that proof? I know you too much. Even if you had whore one hour past you’re bull enough to pretend and pull cotton over eyes of your poor old mother.” She laughed and flung her arms around him again. “Oh, good to leave bad fêng shui. I pack hurriedly.”
She ran for the door, and shrieked, “Ah Sam-ahhhh!” Ah Sam hurried up anxiously, followed by Lim Din, and after a tumult of shouting and jabbering Ah Sam and Lim Din scurried away, beseeching the gods in vast, noisy excitement. May-may came back and sat on the bed and fanned herself. “I’m packing,” she said cheerfully. “Now I help you dress.”
“Thank you, but I’m capable of doing that.”
“Then I will watch. And scrub your back. The bath is waiting. I am very gracious glad you decided to leave.” She chattered on exuberantly as he changed. He bathed and she shrieked for hot towels, and when they were brought, she dried his back. And all the time she was wondering if he had had a whore after he had arranged about the funny little artist who had painted her portrait so beautifully. Not that I mind, she told herself, rubbing him vigorously. It’s just that he shouldn’t go into one of those places. Absolutely not. Very bad for his face. And very bad for my face. Very bad. Soon those dirty dog-meat servants will begin spreading rumors that I can’t take care of my man. Oh gods, protect me from dirty gossips, and him from dirty doxies of all kinds.
It was dusk before she and Ah Sam and Lim Din were ready, and they were all exhausted with the drama and excitement of leaving. Coolies took the luggage away. Others waited patiently beside the closed sedan chair that would carry her to the cutter.
May-may was heavily veiled. She stood momentarily at the gateway of the garden with Struan and looked back at her first house on Hong Kong. But for the bad fêng shui—and the fever that was part of the fêng shui—she would have been loath to depart.
The twilight was pleasant
. A few mosquitoes whined about them. One settled on her ankle but she did not notice it.
The mosquito drank its fill, then flew away.
Struan went into the great cabin of the White Witch. The Brocks were all waiting for him, except Lillibet who had already gone to bed. Culum was beside Tess.
“Evening,” Struan said. “Sarah sends her apologies. She’s na feeling well.”
“Welcome aboard,” Brock said, his voice rough and charged with worry, his face brooding.
“Well,” Struan said with a laugh, “this is nae way to start a happy occasion.”
“Baint the occasion, by God, as thee well knowed. We all be bankrupted—at least hurt terrible by godrotting malaria.”
“Aye,” Struan said. He smiled at Culum and Tess and, noting their disquiet, decided to tell them all the good news now. “I hear Longstaff’s ordering an abandonment of Queen’s Town,” he said nonchalantly.
“By blood of Christ!” Gorth exploded. “We can’t abandon. We be putting too much brass into land and buildings. We can’t abandon. Weren’t for thy godrotting picking of that cursed valley, we wouldn’t—”
“Hold thy tongue,” Brock said. He turned to Struan. “Thee stands to lose more’n us’n, by God, yet there thee be with smile on thy face. Why?”
“Father,” Tess said, terrified that anger would spoil their evening and the unbelievable acceptance of Culum, “can we have a drink? The champagne’s chilled and ready.”
“Yus, of course, Tess luv,” Brock said. “But dost thee understand wot Dirk’s sayed? We stand to lose a turr’ble sum of brass. If we’ve to abandon, then our future be black as pitch. And his too, by God.”
“The future of The Noble House’s white as the cliffs of Dover,” Struan said evenly. “Na only ours but yours too. Longstaff’s going to reimburse all of us for the money we laid out in Happy Valley. Every penny. In cash.”
“That baint possible!” Brock exclaimed.
“That’s a lie, by God!” Gorth said.
Struan turned on him. “A piece of advice, Gorth. Dinna call me a liar more than once.” Then he told them what Longstaff intended to do.
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