Jane Orcutt - All the Tea in China

He cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back in his earnest manner. “Miss Goodrich, I took the liberty of sending those books to your cabin.”

Julia Whipple tilted her head back and laughed at something Snowe said. I gritted my teeth. “Thank you, Mr. Gilpin. I look forward to reading them.”

Gilpin turned and spied Miss Whipple and Snowe. The first mate shook his head. “I am sorry about your brother,” he said softly.

“Phineas? Whatever for?”

Gilpin clucked. “He is shaming you by spending time with her. Their association might ruin your reputation. He should be thinking about that instead of himself.”

His solicitousness was irritating and altogether misplaced. “I have no concept of what society will be like in China, Mr. Gilpin. Perhaps such associations will not matter. Particularly if I live among the non-Christians.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You mean the Chinese? Why, you will never be able to do that, Miss Goodrich.”

“Why?”

“Because… because it simply is not done!”

“And why not?”

“Because you are an Englishwoman. Even though we are no longer on English soil, we are bound by her societal norms. You must not associate with Miss Whipple, and you will not live among the Chinese. No foreign women are allowed in Canton. You will, at best, live in Macao.”

“I cannot very well be a missionary to my own people,” I said. “What purpose would that serve?”

“Why, even we English need spiritual guidance. I am certain there is some useful work you can perform with the clergy who are already there.”

His bossiness grated. “But I could have stayed in Oxford were that all I hoped to accomplish.”

Mr. Gilpin shook his head. “Forgive me, Miss Goodrich. I know that your heart desires to reach the Chinese, but it is quite impossible.” He glanced over at Snowe and Miss Whipple again. “I blame your brother for not advising you on this before you went to so much trouble to follow him aboard this ship. If you will forgive me, it is clear he has little regard for anyone save himself. Rest assured that he has some ulterior motive.”

Why I desired to defend Phineas was beyond my understanding, especially since I was somewhat angry at him. “He did begin to teach me Chinese,” I said, then could not resist adding, “for my benefit. I do not appreciate your words about my brother, nor your inference regarding Miss Whipple. She has been naught but kind to me. I will not slight her.”

Gilpin glanced at Snowe and Miss Whipple, then touched his knuckles to his forehead in salute. “Forgive me, Miss Goodrich. Good day.”

“Good day,” I said, relieved to be rid of his company.

At the moment, I felt that I had not a friend aboard ship. Everyone seemed bent on telling me what I could and could not do. I confess that Gilpin’s words about Phineas took root, and I could not forget them. Captain Malfort approached me, a genuine smile on his face. After we exchanged pleasantries, I said, “Have you known my brother long?”

“Several years now,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

“I have not seen him in a long while, and you know that we were not raised together. What sort of man would you say that he is?”

“He has always been a man of stellar reputation regarding the East India Company, Miss Goodrich. I am afraid that is all that I know. But to me it speaks well for a man’s character.”

If Mr. Gilpin knew something about Phineas Snowe, then it was not common knowledge. “Thank you, Captain. That puts my mind at rest.”

He scrutinized my expression. “You do not have cause for concern regarding your brother, do you?”

I shook my head, affecting a smile. “No, Captain. It was only idle curiosity, nothing more.”

He tipped his cap and went on his way. Miss Whipple and Snowe had drifted out of sight somewhere, and with a sigh, I determined to look for Gilpin’s books by returning to my cabin. Provided those two had not already taken up residence in there!

Once again that night I retired before Phineas. I managed to hang the canvas curtain by myself, but I heard him enter, undress for bed, and lie down in his hammock. After a while I expected to hear snoring but was surprised to hear his voice instead. “Are you still awake, Isabella?”

What could he want? “Yes.”

“You seemed distant this afternoon and evening. Are you well?”

“Since you have asked, I am experiencing some pain.”

“Truly?” I heard him sit up. “What can I do to help?”

“You can tell me why you ignored me in favor of Julia Whipple.”

He lay back down, a long sigh emanating. “She is alone on this voyage and has no friends. I feel sorry for her plight and merely try to bolster her spirits with my company from time to time.” He paused. “She thinks highly of you, Isabella, did you know?”

If he sought to flatter me… it worked. “Really? What did she-” I broke off. “You two discussed me,” I said, annoyance creeping into my voice.

“We discussed a great many things. It is not so large a ship that the primary travelers escape notice,” he said. “And now, would you like to hear more about Wo-Ping and Mei?”

I must confess that I did and was willing to, if not outright forgive, overlook the slights I had felt were dealt me. “I would indeed like to hear more,” I said, hating myself for giving in so easily. “But when will you reach the part about the swords? I am anxious to hear about Mei and Wo-Ping fighting. Who is the better swordsman?”

“That is yet to be determined,” he said. “Remember, too, that there are many weapons in China, not just swords. Different areas of the country have different weapons, as well as fighting skills.”

“What are some of the weapons?” I asked, temporarily forgetting the town of Hu-King.

“There are swords, which have two blades and can be broadswords, more like sabers, or heavier like cutlasses. Those with single blades are called knives. There are shorter butterfly swords, which are used in pairs. There are also emei, which have arrowlike points at each end. Then there are staffs, whips, and spears, not to mention axes, hammers, and cudgels. There are also throwing weapons-darts, arrows, sharpened stars, and blades.”

I could scarcely breathe for excitement. So many weapons, and I had spent a lifetime learning only one! “Perhaps Wo-Ping or Mei have skills in some of these weapons as well,” I said. The story would certainly be improved if this were true.

“Perhaps,” Phineas said vaguely. “Are you ready for me to begin?”

I wrapped the blankets securely around my neck, resisting the urge to kick my feet together like a child. “Yes, please.”

He cleared his throat. “Mei knew that Wo-Ping had the sympathy of the farmer as well as the villagers, but she also knew that he could not be trusted. She would bide her time, for she was not only a skilled warrior, but she was patient and clever…”

We fell into a sort of routine, one day much like another aboard the Dignity. Phineas seemed persuaded of my earnestness in learning Chinese, and we passed much of each day in study. He taught me much of the written language, which, though complicated, seemed to make a great deal of sense. Two or more pictures could create one new word. I learned over a thousand characters, which, he said, would probably make me a functional reader in China. Not, he said, that I was actually going there, of course!

At my request, Mr. Calow secured some precious paper for me, which I used to laboriously copy the Gospel According to St. Luke in Chinese. My characters did not look the same as Robert Morrison’s original, but I worked diligently and made several copies of the second chapter, the story of Jesus’ birth.