China Edward Rutherfurd (essential reading .txt) 📖

all of these, he was able to give accurate answers. The questions came to an end. At a nod from Elliot, one of the officers handed him the silver dollars. Whiteparish expressed their thanks. Nio rose and bowed.

And then he sat down again. “There is something else I could tell you,” he said calmly.

“What is that?”

“If it is useful information, will you give me another twenty dollars?”

“Bloody cheek,” exclaimed one of the officers. But Elliot motioned him to be silent and nodded to Whiteparish. “If the information is good,” said the missionary.

“I noticed something about the cannon. I asked the gunners about it, and they said it didn’t matter. But I am a smuggler, and I was imagining how I would get past the battery if it was firing at me. I think I could easily do so.”

“Why?”

“Because the guns are all fixed. They cannot be pointed up or down or from side to side. They can only fire directly in front of them, always at the same place.”

Elliot stared at him in disbelief. So did all the officers.

“Are you certain of this?” asked Whiteparish.

“I swear it.”

There was a short silence.

“We could test it,” somebody said.

“If you have lied,” said Whiteparish, “we shall find out and be very angry.”

“If you assault the fort,” said Nio calmly, “take me with you. If I lied, shoot me. If I told the truth, give me a third twenty dollars.”

Even the officer who had been angry laughed this time.

“We may do just that,” Whiteparish translated.

But they gave him the second twenty dollars.

◦

If Shi-Rong had respected his master when the commissioner was in favor, his admiration became even greater when Lin fell. While he was noble in office, nothing showed the man’s dignity more than his manner of leaving it. Having shifted his quarters into the handsome merchants’ guildhall, where Shi-Rong was honored to join him, Lin quietly occupied his time practicing his calligraphy, engaging in correspondence with local scholars, and writing to his friends in Beijing and other places.

Shi-Rong was glad to join his master in some of these pleasant literary exercises while they both awaited the arrival of the marquis.

“I’d send you home to visit your father,” Lin told him, “but it’s better for you to stay. I have already mentioned to friends in Beijing the good work you’ve done for me. I can promise you nothing, of course, but if any offers of employment should arise, you’ll need to be here on hand.”

So the rest of October passed and most of November.

“The marquis is taking his time to get here,” Shi-Rong once remarked.

“Perhaps we should be glad,” answered Lin.

When the marquis finally did arrive, late in November, he went straight to the governor’s house and installed himself there. Though numerous people were summoned for an interview, he didn’t ask for Lin at all, making no attempt to see him.

Lin understood at once. “He’s investigating me. Calling witnesses. Gathering evidence. When that’s done, he’ll interview me. Standard procedure. Then he’ll write his report and send it to the emperor.”

“What do we do after that?”

“The marquis will be very busy. He’s got to deal with the British. As for me, I wait here and give the marquis any help he wants, as the emperor commanded. In due course, the emperor will decide whether to recall me to Beijing or send me into exile. Or execute me.”

And what, Shi-Rong wondered, in that last event, would happen to him?

—

The marquis appeared one afternoon without warning. He and Lin were closeted together for over an hour. Then, to Shi-Rong’s surprise, they sent for him.

“This is young Mr. Jiang,” Lin said easily as Shi-Rong made his lowest bow. “He’s studied the locality, understands Cantonese, and he’s the most efficient secretary I’ve ever had.” He turned to Shi-Rong. “The marquis needs a secretary who knows the terrain here. You’re the obvious choice. You will serve him as you have served me, and do your duty to the emperor.”

The marquis was watching him carefully. He had high Mongol cheekbones, no doubt like those of Genghis Khan, and his eyes were cunning. But there, Shi-Rong guessed, any likeness to his all-conquering ancestor ended. His face was soft. He was running to fat. He looked like a man who lived well and whose principal plan was to keep doing so.

“I represent the emperor here now. You must serve me without question.” His voice was gentle, but Shi-Rong didn’t like to think what might happen to him if he disobeyed. “You will report to me this evening.”

Shi-Rong bowed, and the marquis departed.

As he went to prepare for his removal to the governor’s house, Lin told him: “Leave some of your things here. That will give you a good excuse for coming to see me.” And when, an hour later, Shi-Rong presented himself to bid a temporary farewell to his master, Lin gave him some final instructions.

“You must make yourself useful to the marquis—more than that, indispensable. You must do everything he wishes without question. Make sure he is informed about the local conditions before he takes any action. You may even give him your honest advice, if he asks for it. But be careful. If I am sent away, or worse, he will be the key to your survival and your future career. This is my gift to you.”

“I owe you my life, Excellency.”

“It would appear, my dear Jiang, that I have lost my game with the marquis. But the game may not be over yet. Therefore I ask you to do one more thing for me.”

“Anything, Excellency. Consider it done.”

“Report to me, daily if possible. Tell me everything the marquis does.”

—

The first thing the marquis had done, the very next morning, was to disband Shi-Rong’s patrols. He made Shi-Rong do it himself. It took two days for Shi-Rong to complete the task. The crews were not happy. Each man was losing six dollars a month. Shi-Rong himself was horrified.

But when he looked in on Lin to give him the news,