China Edward Rutherfurd (essential reading .txt) 📖

to do by oneself. So when you turned up with your plan for an expedition, I thought: This might be the perfect opportunity.”

“Do you mean to bring tracts?” Read had wanted to know.

“No. If the local authorities stop and search us, that might get everyone in trouble.” He gave them a wry smile. “One gets more cautious with time. I prefer talking to people, telling them what I believe and why. You never know where that may lead.” He nodded. “There’s another factor as well.”

“The Taiping?”

“Exactly. I’ve been to Nanjing. The Taiping are not really Christians. I’m certain of that. They’ve imbibed a few ideas that are Christian. Before they moved north, there were quite a few Taiping in this region, and I’m wondering if they may have left behind some notions that we could correct and build upon. This little expedition may allow me to find out.”

“You’re a spy, then,” young Franklin had cried, then glanced at his father, who gave him a look that said, “You’re on your own now, son.”

“A spy for God,” Cecil replied. “Though the Almighty already knows everything,” he’d added cheerfully.

“Indeed,” said Franklin.

Before they turned in, however, Whiteparish insisted on going over the order of business a final time. He addressed himself to Read. “You’ll take these men, these volunteers, from Canton to America. And the Chinese volunteers won’t pay you for their passage, the railroad bosses will.”

“Correct. I charge ’em up to a hundred dollars a head, delivered and guaranteed. I carry other cargo as well, to make it worth my while.”

“Effectively then, these Chinese will be indentured servants until they’ve worked off the cost of their voyage. And history tells us that in practice, an indentured man can become a slave.”

“It’s true.” Read drew on his cigar. “And I know of Chinese servants in California who are in exactly that position.”

“I’m not sure I like it, Read.”

“Nor do I. So I made a deal with the railroad men. I’ll take back any of my Chinese that aren’t satisfactory after a month; and if any of the Chinese want to leave, I’ll take them back, too, and refund the fare.”

“That could be an expensive proposition for you.”

“I doubt it. These Chinese are going to make pretty good money. They all live together. They form little teams and gangs of their own. It comes naturally to them. My guess is that as soon as the big coast-to-coast railroad starts building, I’ll be filling my ships every season with Chinese as eager to go as the railroad men are to have them. Half of them will probably settle in America.”

“Well, I hope you’re right.”

“And I hope you trust me.”

“Oh yes.” The missionary smiled. “I trust you.”

—

When they came to the little hamlet the next day, they asked for the headman, and Whiteparish explained what they were looking for. The headman was uncertain. “I have heard of men from the big city going to this land across the ocean to work,” he said. “But I don’t know what happens to them when they arrive, or if they ever return.”

“They are well paid,” said Whiteparish. “Some stay there and some return.”

“What is this iron road you speak of? And this engine like a dragon that races along it? Have we such a thing in China?”

“No.”

“Does it work?”

“Yes.”

“Does the emperor or the governor allow men to leave like this?”

“We shall not ask them.”

“There are men here who need money,” the headman confessed. “I will call the village together.”

And so Cecil Whiteparish explained Read’s offer to the assembled village, and after that, for an hour, he interpreted the many questions the villagers had and Read’s answers. And when they were finished, around noon, he and the Reads went on towards the next hamlet, promising to return the next day to collect any men who wished to go to America.

—

That night was warm, and the moon was riding high in the clear sky over the hamlet when Mei-Ling and Second Son walked down from the house to the pond, and they stood on the little bridge together, talking quietly.

“I don’t want you to go,” Mei-Ling said.

“I was thinking that if I go with one of our boys, maybe we can come back in a year or two with a lot of money.”

“You want to take one of our sons?”

“Two men, twice the wages.” He considered. “I could take Ka-Fai. He’s the eldest. But I think he should stay here in my place. I’ll take our second boy. He’s sixteen and he’s strong. He wants to go. He thinks it’s a big adventure.”

“You talked to him already?”

“This afternoon.”

“I didn’t know.”

“We’re getting poorer every year. Last time my brother went to town he spent a lot of money. Even Mother can’t control him. I have to do something.”

“You should be head of the family.”

“I’m not.”

“I wish he would die,” she cried wretchedly.

“Don’t say such a thing.” He paused. “It’ll be all right. You and Mother can keep things going.”

Mei-Ling started to cry. “I shall be so lonely.”

“I, too.”

“The moon’s nearly full,” she said dully.

“Two more nights,” he said.

She looked down at the moon’s reflection in the pond. The water was smooth as glass, but the moon’s outline was blurred by her tears.

“We should go back in,” her husband said. “Everyone’s asleep.”

She took his hand in the dark. “Come,” she said.

—

Cecil Whiteparish was in quite a good mood the next day. The evening before he’d been able to have a long talk with the headman of the second hamlet, a kindly old man. He knew about the Taiping’s god, but he thought the rebels were more bent on destroying the Manchu than performing acts of kindness. Cecil had been able to explain many things about the true God to him, and the old man had seemed to be quite impressed. It was a small beginning, but it gave the missionary hope.

The Reads had also picked up five volunteers, who accompanied them now as they returned to the first hamlet.

Five more