The Secret Mandarin (32 page)

Quickly I pulled myself into check.

Major Gilland introduced himself properly and then apologised.

‘Couldn’t resist it,’ he explained. ‘I must say, your disguises are excellent.’ He peered over.

We did not turn around. Seated at the table directly behind us with Mr Morrison, a secretary from the Consulate, and I suppose it would appear that Gilland was talking to his companion, and that Robert and I were talking to each other, when in fact we were, all four of us, engrossed in conversation together. Or at least three of us were, as Morrison remained silent throughout the meeting. I was so unused to congenial company that it was like daydreaming and I said so. Gilland laughed.

‘Fun and games, eh?’ he observed. ‘Mind you, I can’t imagine them not spotting you in the interior, ma’am,’ he continued. ‘If you don’t mind me saying so.’

‘Let’s hope they will not spot me here, Major.’

‘We had given up on you for lost, Fortune. Had notice almost two years ago now that you might come this way. Plucky expedition of yours and they did not mention you had a lady in your party. Wish I could hear all about it. Good show.’

‘Thank you. But the show is not over, is it?’ Robert chipped in.

‘We’ll see what we can do. We’ll come up with something.’

‘I hope so. Don’t know how you are managing here, Gilland. It’s dreadful. Not come across the like of it before.’

The major did not answer this.

‘Well, we have a plan of sorts for you, in any case. The boat leaves in three days,’ he said. ‘It’s a shoddy bucket, but the best we can muster on this notice. Captain McFarlane is a good fellow though plagued by his crew, I should imagine. Chinks to a man. They will get you to Hong Kong in something over a week. We are hoping Pottinger will send us reinforcements. I am not sure how long we can hold out, to be honest.’

My blood ran cold. Only ten days now. Only ten. Robert pressed his leg against mine.

‘Well, I’m looking forward to some decent English food,’ Robert said. ‘We thought we’d be able to unmask here. Don’t worry—I will see Pottinger myself, Gilland. I am sure he will send what you need.’

‘Good thing you turned up,’ Gilland said. ‘Is there anything else I can get you?’

‘You wouldn’t happen to have any marmalade, would you?’ I blurted. It came out of the blue.

‘They are set to cut us to pieces and the lady wants marmalade!’ Gilland hooted.

I felt ashamed for asking but everyone laughed.

‘I’ll see what I can do, ma’am,’ he swore.

At this moment the actors came on stage and we fell silent. The main female character was clearly played by a man, who lumbered unconvincingly around the platform.

‘The provinces!’ I joked and we settled down to watch the show.

‘See, my love,’ Robert whispered, ‘we will be fine.’

That night I sat up by the bedroom window. There remained a watch over us in the street below—two Chinese house servants huddled in a doorway opposite. We had set up a vigil of our own at each corner of the compound. I was glad the warehouse was to the rear of the property and not easily accessible, for this would make it difficult for our adversaries to find the nature of our cargo. With our men confined to quarters we were confident that no one would give our game away and it was only a matter of passing the time, staying safe until we could leave. To keep the bearers occupied Wang ordered the repacking of all the boxes one by one and the construction of Ward’s cases from glass and wood, which Robert had ordered from a local merchant and which had been delivered at the end of the day. The intention was once more to bolt the portable, sealed glasshouses to the deck and cultivate plants during the journey—this time the seedlings would be tea, of course, interspersed with mulberry bushes.

‘Never been done before,’ Robert had told Gilland that evening, when the entertainment had ceased, ‘but it will work, I am sure of it. If the tea plants thrive, then we will have a way to transport any fragile seed—you will have chestnuts in the tropics, Gilland, and oak trees too, I’ll warrant.’

‘Ingenious,’ the major had replied. ‘I miss the trees at home.’

I had felt sorry for him and admired his bravery too, for he was risking his life every day here.

The night was colder than usual and I pulled my loose silk gown around me as I watched the men over the road, silent in the darkness.

‘You cannot sleep?’ Robert asked from the bed, waking as he turned.

‘No. They are still watching.’

‘Come here, Mary.’

I crossed the room silently, let the gown fall from my shoulders and slipped naked back under the satin sheet. Robert’s body was warm and he wrapped himself around me.

‘It is the last hurdle,’ he whispered, ‘and we will take it flying, Mary.’

He had a gun, I knew, next to the bed. I tried to forget everything that was going on. And when I fell asleep I swear I was kissing him still.

The next day we decided to explore the town. There were some supplies we wished to procure and, with our Chinese shadows in tow, we made our way along the main street, inspecting the shops one by one. The weather was stormy now and the daylight marred by heavy cloud. We found some interesting antiques along the thoroughfare—small wood carvings and lacquerwork. Robert bought them and dispatched Sing Hoo home to the warehouse, hauling them on his back. As we strolled on we passed several mandarins, all peering more closely at us than was remotely polite. One said something in a strange tongue, trying to address us. With Sing Hoo gone, Robert gave the man a condescending stare and then retreated, hurrying me onto my sedan and back to the house. It felt very dangerous.

‘Damn!’ he said as the front door closed behind us. ‘It is a treaty port and they can do nothing. After months in the interior we will not be stopped on our own soil. This is preposterous.’

But we both knew we simply didn’t have enough men on our side here to enforce our will if push came to shove and things turned nasty. We stayed in for the rest of the day.

That evening Mr Morrison called at the house. He had been soaked in the rain but refused the offer of a sheet to dry himself. His thin lips pulled back from his teeth as if they were fitted too tightly, and I thought that in his dark suit and with such odd features, he looked like a strange kind of animal—perhaps a vole fresh out of the water. He bobbed from one foot to the other as if he was about to take off at a sprint.

‘They have made an official complaint,’ he said. ‘They are on to you. It is signed by three mandarins.’

My skin felt icy. Robert’s eyes flashed at this news.

‘And you coming here probably confirms it,’ he replied acidly. ‘Whatever are you thinking?’

‘It’s too late for all that, Fortune. Gilland has a plan.’ Mr Morrison’s tone was flat. ‘But you must leave as soon as we can get you away. Captain McFarlane is ready but the ship is poorly supplied—you will have to make do with what is on board already. We do not have the luxury of properly fortifying her. The Chinese do not like to do things openly, so this is a huge declaration. In the normal run of things, not that this can be called remotely normal,’ he commented to himself, ‘but usually they would find a way to save face, you know. This is uncharacteristically direct. Gilland is concerned. Very concerned. We must get you out now. We will stow all our valuables on the same boat and hope that we, ourselves, last long enough for the reinforcements to arrive.’

I thought of the mandarin in the mountains and his offer of safe passage—the oblique way he had avoided accusing us of anything. Safe passage was probably the last
thing the mandarin’s countrymen wanted to offer us here. I was struck by the bravery of those we were leaving behind. Morrison continued.

‘At midnight tonight the tide will be perfect. While Foo Chow Soo sleeps, you must load your cargo and sail on the
Island Queen
before there is time to do anything about the complaint. We are merely holding it at present, but we cannot do that for long without a riot breaking out. We must act swiftly. At eleven Gilland will send fifteen soldiers to provide safe passage to the dock. They will nab the Chinese lookouts and hold them until you are gone. Our men can help with the loading. We have a contingent at the Consulate now as a precaution—later tonight the rest of us will retreat there and must be armed all round. It is a last stand, I expect.’

‘Mr Morrison!’ I did not know what to say.

Robert thought for a moment. ‘And the major does not want to ship you all away? Come, there must only be fifty.’

Morrison shook his head sadly. ‘Our orders are to hold the port. Our military are quite determined on it.’

I could see the man was frightened, and there was nothing he could do. If I had the measure of him Morrison was an administrator, not a soldier. He was being as brave as he could.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I said.

He shrugged his shoulders.

‘Oh. And, ma’am, he sent you this.’

The man pulled a jar out of his pocket. It was a little pot of West and Wyatt’s Best Marmalade Preserve.

‘He said you might as well have a decent breakfast.’

I took the jar and thanked him sheepishly.

‘We will set to it, Morrison,’ Robert shook his hand. ‘We will be ready at eleven.’

Morrison slipped back into the storm and Robert
immediately ordered two of the upstairs bedrooms to be lit with an array of candles and their shutters left unfastened. This show of light would distract our lookouts across the street. A man was to walk between the two rooms from time to time and provide some additional interest for them to monitor. Meanwhile, in the rooms we truly inhabited, we packed the cases by the light of a single, dim oil lamp and fastened our shutters tightly. Wang brought everything downstairs to wait in the hall. I was nervous, but excited too. We had never had an armed escort before—until now we had always been on our own wits.

‘It is no night to be sailing,’ Robert commented. This was true. Outside it was practically typhoon weather.

‘
Dai-phoo,
’ Sing Hoo said sadly, for he had never got over his voyage sickness and in this weather he knew he was set to suffer. I patted his shoulder to comfort him.

‘Better this than what might happen if we stay,’ I told him. I was not sure how much Sing Hoo or Wang had understood, except this was an unfriendly port and we were leaving.

Come eleven there was a sharp rap at the door and Robert himself went to greet the troops. The officer in charge was the captain who had stopped us in the street the day before. He shook hands with Robert enthusiastically. It struck me that he was terribly young, perhaps only twenty, and I noticed his eyes shone with excitement at the escapade. He was a Home Counties boy, raised, it seemed to me, with exactly this kind of adventure in mind.

‘Captain Peverill,’ he introduced himself. ‘We have the sneaks tied up.’

We had not told the main body of our men what was to happen, for we wanted no show, noise or commotion of any kind for the lookouts to interpret. Everything in the
warehouse was packed already so there was no measure in giving them advance notice. Now Wang and Sing Hoo went to rouse the gardeners and, under cover of darkness, on carts drawn not only by mules but by a dolorous Romanov (who considered the task well beneath her) and a furious Murdo, we made our way to the port in the rain, through the two dark, sleeping streets between us and the
Island Queen.

McFarlane, a ruddy-faced Scotsman, waited up the gangplank and saluted as we came aboard. The ship was grubby and worn—hardly the Royal Navy vessel we had hoped for, but it would do the job. It was good to have so many men behind us and I was glad to be getting away. We were the lucky ones, no question.

‘I hear you’re from my neck of the woods,’ McFarlane said to Robert. ‘Well, there’s no such thing as bad weather to a Scot, Mr Fortune. It’s all in keeping your pluck and having the right equipment.’

This man would do fine.

‘Ah, Mrs Fortune,’ he bowed towards me.

And neither Robert nor I corrected him; instead we saw the boxes aboard and made sure the plants were secure in the cabins. The Ward’s cases, only half-made as yet, we stowed below decks, for there was no time to bolt them in, and in this weather it was only madness to delay.

But we were not to get away as easily as all that. The loading, haphazard as it was, took close to an hour and in that time we were spotted. Three mandarins arrived on the dock to challenge us. They were armed to the teeth with knives and backed by another twenty servants, all fortified with pitchforks and machetes. The leaders bowed very graciously but their intent was clear enough. Peverill’s men stood to attention with their captain to one side, who was poised and clearly hoping for a confrontation. His eyes shone
with anticipation, like those of a little boy playing soldiers, but the sight of the Chinese party made my stomach turn. I had no desire to see brave men die but it felt as if there was nothing for it. They were a rough crew and determined. Still, with the advantage of the soldiers’ guns, I calculated that our side would win if it came to the bit. In truth, I just hoped that we would get away.

‘You leave late,’ one of the mandarins said passively in English, shouting from the dockside up to the deck. ‘Sneaking like vermin.’

McFarlane ignored the insult. He bowed and walked down the gangplank steadily. We were still loading the final boxes.

‘When the wind will take me I will go,’ the captain said nonchalantly and he stood his ground.

‘It is not honourable to leave with unpaid debts,’ the man protested.

‘I owe you nothing, sir.’

‘This crew,’ the mandarin screamed wildly. ‘They owe money in this town. All this crew. They must settle their debts. Only wait until the morning and we can sort it out. Our brothers are coming. We have come to confiscate your sail, as is the custom for debtors. You cannot leave tonight.’

Gilland’s judgement had been right. More were on their way, and the army no doubt as well. The accusation of the debt was only a pretext. I clasped Robert’s hand tightly behind my back as the mandarin pushed past McFarlane to carry out his threat and strode up the gangplank towards the sail. The others surged behind him, muttering threats. As soon as the man set foot on the deck, Peverill sprang into action, shouting at his men, who took aim all at once with a precision and discipline that was most effective. The noise of the guns being raised stopped the mandarin in his tracks for a moment, but he glanced towards the sail,
his prize, hesitating only a second or two, his knife drawn to cut the ropes and disable the ship. I knew once the violence started each side would fight to the last man. I could hardly breathe.