“Oh good,” they said, and clustered around the bed.
At midnight the lorcha nosed the beach at Aberdeen, and Struan jumped into the shallows, Fong beside him. Earlier he had landed his men secretly just to the west and positioned them around the well. He tramped up the beach toward the well and the fork in the path. Fong carried a lantern and was very nervous.
The moon was hidden by the low overcast, but a trace of its glow filtered through. The air was heavy with the stench of low tide, and the hundreds of sampans in the narrow inlet were like so many hibernating wood bugs. No lantern except Fong’s cut the darkness. There were no sounds but for the inevitable foraging of dogs.
The village was equally ominous.
As Struan broke out onto the fork in the path, he searched the night. He could feel many eyes watching him from the sampans.
He loosened the pistols in his belt and stood carefully out of the light of the lantern that Fong had placed on the lip of the well.
The silence intensified. Suddenly Fong stiffened and pointed shakily. Just beyond the fork, lying across the path, was a sack. It looked like a rice sack. His pistols ready, Struan motioned Fong ahead, not trusting him. Fong advanced, panic-stricken.
When they reached the sack, Struan tossed Fong a dirk, haft first. “Cut it open.”
Fong knelt down and slit the hempen sacking. He let out a terrified whimper and backed off.
Scragger was in the sack. He had no arms or legs or eyes or tongue, and the stumps of his limbs were cauterized with tar.
“Top o’ the evening, matey!” Wu Kwok’s malignant laughter echoed harrowingly out of the night and Struan jerked to his feet.
The laugh seemed to come from the sampans.
“What do you want, you devil from hell?” Struan shouted back.
There was a guttural stream of Chinese, and Fong blanched. He shouted something back, his voice constricted.
“What did he say?”
“He . . . Wu Kwok says I’m to go—there.”
“You stay where you are,” Struan said. “What do you want, Kwok?” he yelled at the sampans.
“You alive! For Quemoy, by God! You an’ yor muck-pissed frigates!”
Figures swarmed from the sampans and raged up the hill with spears and cutlasses. Struan waited until he could see the first of the pirates clearly, then dropped him with a shot. Immediately muskets blazed from Struan’s ambushing crew. There were screams, and the first wave of twenty or thirty pirates was annihilated.
Another wave of shouting cutthroats hurtled up the path. Again the muskets blasted them to pieces, but four gained the well. Struan cut one down, Fong another, and musket balls killed the other two.
Again a quietness.
“The pox on you, matey!”
“And you, Wu Kwok!” Struan bellowed.
“My fleets be goin’ again’ the Lion and Dragon!”
“Come out of your rat hole and face me and I’ll kill you now. Scum!”
“When I catched you, that be yor way o’ dying, matey. A limb a week. That scum live five, six week, but you be a year adying, I’ll be bound. We meets face t’ face in a year, if not afore!” Again the evil laugh and then silence. Struan was tempted to fire the sampans, but he knew that hundreds of men and women and children were aboard.
He stared down at the half-opened sack. “Pick it up, Fong.” And he called to his men in the surrounding darkness: “Fall back on the lorcha, lads!”
He covered Fong and they withdrew. When he was well out to sea, he put a chain around the sack and read a service over it and cast it into the deep. He watched it disappear in a tiny circle of sea froth.
Struan would have liked to tell Scragger about the farewell he had had with his sons.
He had put them into the hands of the captain at Whampoa, with letters to The Noble House’s agents in London whom he had made responsible for the boys and their schooling.
“Well, good luck, lads. When I get home I’ll come to see you.”
“Can I be seeing you, Yor Worship, privy?” little Fred had asked, trying not to cry.
“Aye, laddie. Come along.” Struan had taken him into a cabin and Bert, the Eurasian, had been uneasy to be left alone and Wu Pak had held on to Bert’s hand.
“Aye, Fred?” he had asked when they were alone.
“Me dad sayed we was t’ have a proper name afore we be leaving home waters, Yor Worship.”
“Aye, lad. It’s on your papers. I told you last night. Do you na remember?”
“Beggin’ yor pardon, no, Yor Worship. I forgets. Can we be knowing it again, please?”
“You’re Frederick MacStruan,” he had said, for he had taken a liking to the boy and the clan name was a good one. “And Bert’s Bert Chen.”
“Oh,” the little boy had said. “Yus, now I remembers. But why’s we different? Me and my bruvver?”
“Well,” Struan had said as he tousled the boy’s head, remembering with frantic pain the loss of his own sons, “you’ve different mothers, have you na? That’s the reason.”
“Yus. But we be bruwers, Yor Honor,” Fred had said, his tears brimming. “Beggin’ yor pardon, can we be having the same name? Chen’s a proper nice name. Frederick Chen’s nice, Tai-Pan.”
So Struan had changed the papers and the captain had witnessed his signature. “There, lads, now you’re both MacStruan. Albert and Frederick MacStruan.”
Then they had both wept happily and had put their arms around him.
Struan went below and tried to sleep. But sleep would not come. Scragger’s end had sickened him. He knew it was a favorite torture of Wu Fang Choi, Wu Kwok’s father and little Wu Pak’s grandfather. The victim who was to be dismembered was given three days’ time to choose which limb was to come off first. And on the third night a friend of the man would be sent to him secretly to whisper that help was on the way. So the man chose the limb he felt he could most do without until help came. After the tar had healed the stump, the man was forced to choose yet another limb, and again there was the promise of imminent help which would never come. Only the very strong could survive two amputations.
Struan got off the bunk and went on deck. There was a slight swell and the cloud cover had thickened: no moon glow now. The sea was high but safe enough.
“Rain tomorrow, Mr. Struan,” Cudahy said.
“Aye,” he replied. He peered east, into the wind. He could feel the sea watching him.
“Supreme Lady,” Ah Sam said, touching May-may awake. “Father’s cutter’s approaching.”
“Has Lim Din drawn his bath?”
“Yes, Mother. He’s gone upstairs to welcome Father.”
“You can go back to bed, Ah Sam.”
“Shall I wake Second Mother?” Yin-hsi was curled up in a bed at one side of the cabin.
“No. Go back to bed. But first give me my brush and comb, and make sure Lim Din has breakfast ready if Father wants it.”
May-may lay back for a moment, remembering what Gordon Chen had told her. That dirty turtledung assassin! Fancy his accusing my son of being connected with a secret society! He was paid more than enough to keep his mouth shut and die quietly. How foolish!
She eased out of bed cautiously. For the first few seconds her legs felt weak and wobbly. Then she stopped reeling and stood erect.
“Oh,” she said aloud, “that feels better.” She walked to the mirror and studied herself critically. “You look old,” she said to her reflection.
“You don’t at all. And you shouldn’t be out of bed,” Yin-hsi said, sitting up in her bed. “Let me brush your hair. Is Father back? I’m so pleased you’re better. You look really very good.”
“Thank you, Sister. His boat’s just approaching.” May-may allowed Yin-hsi to brush her hair and braid it. “Thank you, dear.”
She perfumed herself and got back into bed feeling refreshed.
The door opened and Struan tiptoed in. “What’re you doing awake?” he asked.
“I wanted to see you back safe. Your bath’s ready. And breakfast. I’m very glad you’re back safe and sound!”
“I think I’ll turn in for a few hours. You go back to sleep, lassie, and we’ll have breakfast when I wake up. I’ve told Lim Din to let me sleep unless there’s something urgent.”
He kissed her briefly, a trifle embarrassed by Yin-hsi’s presence. May-may noticed this and smiled to herself. How curious barbarians were!
Struan nodded vaguely to Yin-hsi and left the room.
“Listen, dear Sister,” May-may said, when she was certain Struan was out of earshot. “Bathe with perfumed water, and when Father is heavily asleep go into his bed and sleep with him.”
“But, Supreme Lady, I’m sure that Father did not indicate in any way that he wanted me to go to him. I was watching very carefully. If I went uninvited, I—he might be very angry and send me away, and then I’d lose much face before you and before him.”
“You just have to understand barbarians are very different from us, Yin-hsi. They’ve no idea of face as we have. Now, do as I say. He’ll have a bath and go to bed. Wait an hour. Then join him. If he wakes up and orders you out, just be patient and say”—she changed to English —“ ‘Supreme Lady sent me.’ ”
Yin-hsi repeated the English words and memorized them.
“If that’s no use, come back here,” May-may continued. “No face is lost, I promise you. Don’t be afraid. I know a lot about Father and how he views face. We certainly can’t have him visiting those dirty whorehouses. The naughty man went straight to one of them last night.”
“No!” Yin-hsi said. “We have terribly lost face. Oh dear. I must disgust Father. Perhaps you’d better sell me to a gravedigger.”
“Huh!” May-may said. “I’d give him what-for if I was well. Don’t worry, Yin-hsi. He hasn’t even seen you yet. I keep telling you. He’s a barbarian. Disgusting to go to a whorehouse when you’re here, and even Ah Sam.”
“I quite agree. Oh, the bad man!”
“They’re all bad, dear,” May-may said. “I’m hoping that he’s so tired he won’t send you away as I expect him to. Just sleep in his bed. With Father, we have to work up to things. Even at his age he’s still very shy about love.”
“Does he know that I’m not a virgin?” Yin-hsi was caressing May-may’s head.
“He’s much too young yet to need virgins to excite him, dear Sister. And much too old to have the patience yet to teach a virgin in the ways of love again. Just say to him, ‘Supreme Lady sent me.’ ”
Yin-hsi repeated the English words again.
“You’re very pretty, Sister. Run along, now. Wait an hour, then go to him.” May-may closed her eyes and settled contentedly in the bed.
Yin-hsi gazed down at Struan. One of his arms lay carelessly across the pillow and he was sound asleep. The curtains on the cabin portholes were drawn tightly against the morning. It was very quiet.
Yin-hsi took off her pajamas and slid gingerly under the covers beside Struan.
The warmth of the bed excited her. She waited breathlessly, but he did not awaken. She moved closer and gently put a hand on his arm and waited. Still he did not awaken. She moved even closer and put her arm across his chest and let it rest there. And waited.
Through the mist of his dreams Struan knew that May-may was beside him. He could smell her perfume and feel her close, and he was content that the fever was far in the past and that she was well again. They were together in the sun and he could sense her well-being. He asked her what she would like for her birthday and she just laughed and pressed close in the sun, which was dark and curious and unreal but beautiful. Then they were very close and he listened to her chattering and then they were swimming together and he found this strange for he knew that she could not swim and he wondered when she had learned. Then they were lying naked on the beach, side by side, the length of her touching him. Then she began shivering and he was terrified that she had fever again and there was the monk with his bloodstained robes and the cup, and the cup took May-may’s fever away and then there was darkness. But the clouds were above and it was dark when it should have been day and Fong was shouting from the waves, “Tai-fung!” Then they ran from the clouds and were in bed, safe together.
He stirred in his sleep and half awoke and felt the warm, tender body touching him, and his hand strayed and he cupped her breast and felt the shiver run through her and through him.
He lay in the gloaming of the room on the threshold of awakening. Her breast was soft in his hand and he felt the hardness of the nipple.
Then he opened his eyes.
Yin-hsi smiled demurely.
Struan braced himself on an elbow. “God’s blood, what the devil are you doing here?”
Yin-hsi blinked at him uncomprehendingly. “Sup-reem —Lady—sen’—me.”
“Eh?” Struan tried to clear his head.
“Sup-reem Lady sen’ me, Tai-Pan.”
“Eh? May-may? May-may? Is she out of her head?” He pointed to the door. “Off you go.”
Yin-hsi shook her head. “Sup-reem Lady sen’ me.”
“I dinna care if you’ve been sent by the queen of England! Off you go!”
Yin-hsi pouted. “Sup-r’m Lady sen’ me!” And she planted her head firmly on the pillow and glared at him.
Struan began to laugh.
Yin-hsi was bewildered. My goodness, Supreme Lady was right. Barbarians are astounding. But I’m not moving from this bed! How dare you go to a whorehouse and make me lose face in front of Tai-tai? Am I a rotten old hag, for goodness sake? Oh no, Tai-Pan! I’m not moving! I’m very nice and I’m Second Sister and Second Lady in your house and that’s that!
“By the gods,” Struan said, pulling himself together. “I’m going to marry May-may if it’s the last thing I do. And the pox on everyone!”
He lay back and mulled what he and May-may would do at home in England. She’ll be the toast of London . . . so long as she never wears any European clothes. Together we’ll rock the society of England. Now I have to hurry home. Perhaps I can destroy the Foreign Secretary mysel’! Or block Whalen. Aye. Now the key to Hong Kong’s in London. So home—and the sooner the better.
He turned his head on the pillow and looked at Yin-hsi, and really saw her for the first time. She was very desirable. Her perfume was as exquisite as her skin.
“Ah, lassie, I’m sorely tempted,” he said.
She nestled closer to him.