China by Edward Rutherfurd (latest novels to read TXT) 📗

from the Tsungli Yamen,” Trader said. “But here’s my question. Who makes the final decisions in China now?”

“The old lady. The dowager empress,” Morrison replied.

“Cixi,” Backhouse echoed. “The Old Buddha.”

“And where does she stand on the Boxers?”

“She may love them. She may fear them. Hard to know,” said Morrison.

“Oh no, it isn’t,” Backhouse cried. “Cixi has hated the West ever since the Opium Wars. She’s always wanted to kick us out, but she’s never been able to do it, for fear of the West’s reprisals. But if the Boxers rise and do her dirty work for her, she’d be delighted.”

“How do you know?” Hoover demanded.

“Because she told me so,” said Backhouse with a little smile of triumph. “I happen to be a friend of hers.”

“I don’t believe a word of this,” said the American.

“You are quite wrong, sir. First, I speak Chinese. Second, I made the acquaintance of Lacquer Nail, one of the palace eunuchs who is close to her. Third, I am neither a missionary nor an employee of the British government. Fourth, my eunuch friend knows the empress is curious about foreigners and thought I might amuse her. As a result, I have already spoken with her on numerous occasions.”

“I always heard only eunuchs could get into the palace,” said Trader.

“Generally you are correct, though foreigners, princes, and ministers have always been received there for audiences. But for years now, Cixi has pretty much done what she wants. Especially out at the Summer Palace, where she likes to reside.”

“But we destroyed the Summer Palace,” said Trader.

“Cixi always wanted to restore it, but there were never the funds. Finally they rebuilt one of the smaller parks, and they constructed a huge pleasure boat in the lake. At least it looks like a boat, though it’s actually made of stone. Cixi loves to have festive parties on that stone boat—very festive.”

“I imagined the Dragon Empress was rather severe,” Trader remarked.

“Not in private. In fact, her most trusted eunuchs are allowed to take intimate liberties that might astonish you. And so am I.”

“You are preposterous,” said Hoover in disgust. “Let’s go, Lou.” And they left. Mercifully, a moment later, Lady MacDonald appeared.

“The dancing is beginning. I just suggested to Sir Robert Hart that he should claim the first dance, and he says he’s too old. So I have come to you, Mr. Trader.”

“But, Lady MacDonald, I’m much older than he is,” Trader pointed out.

“Don’t you think we should show him up?” she rejoined.

Trader grinned. “Absolutely,” he said.

So to the general pleasure, the oldest man present led his hostess onto the dance floor, namely the tennis court, where they gave a very good account of themselves, and everybody clapped. They even took a second turn. Emily felt so proud. And though Henry invited her to dance, she asked him to wait until the next, so that she could watch them because, as she said to Henry, she’d like to remember her father this way.

Meanwhile, Trader and his partner were chatting pleasantly.

“You really should stay with your daughter for as long as you can,” Lady MacDonald said. “We’re so fond of her. We like to have a tennis tournament here for the people who are still in Peking during the summer,” she went on blithely.

“I hope you’re not expecting me to play.”

“You can give out the prizes.”

“You’ll need to roll the courts a bit after this dancing,” he remarked.

“Of course. Though given our standard of tennis, it may not really matter.”

“When I was in India,” he said, “we went up to the hill stations in the hot season.”

“It’s the same here. People go into the mountains. Not as nice as the Indian hill stations, but quite picturesque. Some of the mountain houses used to be temples. Those are very quaint. If you stay, I promise you shall visit some.”

“You think it’ll be all right, with the Boxers and all that?”

“The French minister has just told me that we’re all going to be massacred,” she said easily. “But we can’t have the French knowing better than we do, can we?”

—

The next morning Emily counted another thirty converts seeking refuge in the mission. All the beds in the dormitories were now taken. She started piling up blankets that could be laid on the floor. At noon Mrs. Reid, the wife of one of the British doctors, arrived and told her that several British families had found their servants gone. Warned off. Then Henry went over to the legation and returned with confusing news.

“There’s been a skirmish between a party of Boxers and some imperial troops. The Boxers won. It doesn’t look as if Cixi’s in control of the Boxers.”

Henry didn’t say anything more just then. But the following evening, when they were alone, he returned to the subject. “You know,” he said, “whether Cixi controls the Boxers or she doesn’t, the fact is that the Boxers could cut us off in Peking. Any day.” He paused and looked at her bleakly. “We shouldn’t keep Tom here anymore. Or your father. They’d better go down to the coast while they still can, and your father should take Tom to England.”

“If you think so.” She sighed. “I shall miss them both so much. But I’ve had Tom longer than most mothers do. He’s nearly eleven.” She smiled affectionately at her husband. “It’ll just be the two of us, then.”

Henry was silent for a moment. Then he said: “I think you should go, too.”

“Me?” She looked horrified. “You’re not getting rid of me.” She watched him. He was shaking his head. “When we married, Henry, you warned me about the dangers. I signed up for the duration: richer, poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live. I’m not leaving you now.”

“Perhaps I should order you, then. When we married, you also took an oath to love, honor—and obey.” He was looking at her with great affection, but she knew he wasn’t joking.

“In any case, Henry,” she went on, “if you really believe things