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

It was the first time Shi-Rong had seen the commissioner angry. “Tell them I demand a surrender of opium at once,” he ordered Shi-Rong. “Take Mr. Singapore with you. Make sure they understand that if they do not obey, the consequences will be serious. Go now!”

Having delivered his message at the factories, Shi-Rong had to wait hours before he could return with a reply. “They offer a thousand chests, Excellency. No more.”

The commissioner’s face turned to stone. Shi-Rong wondered if he would start executing them. Lin read his thoughts.

“It would be easy to kill these barbarians. But that is beneath the dignity of the Celestial Kingdom. Or we could expel them all. But the emperor does not wish to destroy all the trade, for some of it is beneficial to his people. The emperor wishes the barbarians to admit their crime and to acknowledge that the Celestial Kingdom is just. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Excellency.”

“Very well. They do not take us seriously. We must ensure that they do.” Lin nodded. “I will summon one or two of these barbarians, question them, and, if they are not cooperative, arrest them. That may have some effect.”

“Have you particular men in mind, Excellency?”

“There is one Englishman who is particularly insolent. Every report complained about him. His name is Dent. But I need another.”

“What about Odstock, the older merchant I met yesterday?” suggested Shi-Rong. “We know he has corrupted the merchant Zhou. He showed no sign of remorse, but I did not think he was a brave man. If he is frightened, he may give up his opium. And if one merchant yields, perhaps they will all give in.”

“Good,” said Lin. “Tomorrow, you will bring me Dent and Odstock.”

◦

Trader had gone to stretch his legs on the waterfront the next morning when he noticed a gaggle of men hastily backing out of Hog Lane. A moment later he saw that they were being pushed by Chinese soldiers. The soldiers wore blue tunics and conical hats and carried spears. They filled the entrance to the lane beside the English factory, but did not advance farther. Looking along the waterfront, he could see that Chinese soldiers filled the entrances to the other two lanes as well. The factories and the waterfront were being blocked off.

He’d just finished telling Tully about what had happened, and Tully was just putting on his jacket to come and see for himself, when they heard feet tramping up the stairs. Shi-Rong, flanked by two soldiers, with swords unsheathed, appeared in the narrow doorway, while one of the factory servants ducked in beside Shi-Rong to deliver a message. “Commissioner Lin wants Mr. Odstock to come, please.”

Odstock rose in a dignified manner and bowed politely to Shi-Rong, who returned the bow with equal politeness. If Tully felt fear, he concealed it well. He turned to Trader. “Suppose I’d better,” he said with a shrug. “You can stay and hold the fort till I get back.”

“You’re going to leave me?” Trader asked in horror.

And Tully would probably have gone that moment if the sound of someone bounding up the stairs hadn’t been followed immediately by the appearance of Matheson, who pushed past the soldiers furiously. “Don’t think of going, Odstock,” he cried. “They just came for Dent as well.”

“Did he agree to go?” Tully asked.

“To be precise, he said he didn’t give a damn and he’d be glad to tell the emperor of China what he thought of him.”

“Sounds like Dent.”

“However, I persuaded him not to go. In case he might never come back.”

Trader looked at Shi-Rong, who was standing there impassively, then at Matheson. “You think they’d…”

“Unlikely,” said Matheson. “But once Dent’s in their custody, you can’t be certain. And God knows if or when they’d give him back. In any case, it’s better if we all stick together. We don’t want Lin getting to work on us individually.” He turned to Tully. “You mustn’t go.”

“All right,” said Tully. He turned to Shi-Rong. “No can do.”

—

After Shi-Rong and his men had departed, Matheson gave Trader an encouraging smile. “They could have removed Dent and Odstock by force,” he pointed out. “This is a good sign.” But Trader wasn’t sure he sounded entirely convinced.

Meanwhile, the Chinese soldiers remained in the lanes, keeping the factories sealed off.

And the soldiers were still there the next morning. After a walk along the waterside, Tully and Trader went into the English factory library, where they found Matheson and a dozen others. Tully sank into a deep leather chair.

“Want a book?” asked Trader.

“Certainly not.”

Trader went to the bookshelves. Someone had left a copy of Dickens’s Pickwick Papers there. As the book had been published only a couple of years ago, he supposed someone had read it on the voyage out from England and obligingly donated it to the library on arrival. Perhaps the delightful comedy would take his mind off his troubles for a while. And so it did, for about twenty minutes, until one of the men gazing out the window exclaimed: “Good Lord, look at that.” And a moment later everyone in the library was crowding by the window, looking out on the open space below.

It was a melancholy little procession. Half a dozen Chinese soldiers were leading three members of the merchant Hong. They were all imposing figures. But no man could look dignified with an iron collar around his neck, attached to a chain being dragged by a soldier. One of them was Joker, whose face looked a picture of misery. In the middle of the open space, the procession turned to face the English factory and stopped. The soldier in command had a bamboo rod. Slashing at the back of Joker’s leg, he caused the old man to cry out and sink to his knees. He had no need to strike the other two, who took the hint and knelt immediately. Then the soldiers heaped the chains over the shoulders of the three men to weigh them down. Bowed and half