Jane Orcutt - All the Tea in China

“And now you have your opportunity.”

He smiled. “Yes. But the question is, what am I to do with you now that you know the truth?”

For one moment, fancy filled my imagination, and I pictured him throwing me overboard. Then I remembered that he had ample chance to disavow me but had done nothing save protect me at every turn, including my reputation. He had also lied to me at every turn, however…

“Isabella?”

“You must take me with you,” I said firmly. “That is the price of my silence.”

“No! Do you not see that I have further reason to keep you from China? It is dangerous, Isabella. I will not have you there.”

“But it is my decision. Just as you have decided to avenge your countrymen.”

“No.”

“I am not above telling Captain Malfort still,” I said. “Perhaps it would be you who is left in Cape Town, not I.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You would not do that.”

“I would.” I lifted my chin. “You have been kind to me, but you have also used me abominably. I cannot help but feel that my posing as your sister is somehow a ruse for your revenge. It gives you more respectability and brings less suspicion on yourself, am I correct?”

His expression told me that my guess was indeed accurate, and I glowed inwardly. I had won. “It is yet again blackmail,” he said.

“Then so be it,” I said. “Your words make me more determined than ever to share the gospel in China.”

He sighed. “I admire your courage and your enthusiasm, not to mention your faith, but I do not think your time in China would be well served trying to be a missionary.”

“I would not be aboard this ship if I were not convinced of my destiny. I find it odd that you accept Julia Whipple’s self-proclaimed destiny in China and yet you repeatedly chastise me for my biblical mission.”

“Ah, Miss Whipple,” he said, smiling. “Though she is oddly fond of you, and even more oddly, you profess to be so of her, I wondered what your true feelings might be.”

I felt a small wave of regret for my hasty words. “I did not mean to criticize her, only to point out the inconsistency of your words and actions toward her and me. I find her quite intelligent, and I wish a better life for her.”

“You cannot change the world, my dear Isabella.”

“Oh? Isn’t that what you are trying to do? Have you ever thought about letting God have his way with China instead of settling upon your own revenge?” I studied him closely. “What are your beliefs toward God?”

“I was baptized in the church, much to my mother’s disapproval. She believed me coerced, but it was my choice. For that, I shall always be grateful to my father and his family.”

“Then you must understand how I feel. I want to share my gratefulness with others. Perhaps if they know that God so loved the world-”

“And gave his only begotten son… yes, I know, Isabella. But imagine that a Buddhist in China desires to travel to Britain and convert everyone to Buddhism. Would you call him wise?”

“Of course not,” I said. “But this is different.”

He folded his arms.

“But it is. It is truth!”

“I agree, Isabella, but you cannot march into a country and simply announce that you have the answers to all their problems.”

“But I do,” I said stubbornly.

“They will not listen. They will not believe you.”

“St. Paul was a great evangelist,” I said. “He went to different countries.”

“Yes, and he said that he was made all things to all men that he might by all means save some.”

“Then that is what I shall do. Have I not endeavored to learn the language? Do I not have the tracts in Chinese? Phineas, I want to serve.”

He shook his head, sighing. “That may be difficult. China is very different from your way of life. I hope that you are not disappointed by what you find there.”

“And I hope that you are, for though your intentions may be noble, I cannot believe that your method of revenge is pleasing to God.”

“Well, then.” He smiled. “It will be interesting to see whose expectations are met.”

“‘All things are possible to him that believeth.’” I smiled in return. Phineas Snowe was not the only one who could quote Scripture!

As though nothing had changed between us, that night Phineas picked up the story of Wo-Ping and Mei. The two had become romantically involved, but they still kept their weapons a secret from each other. When the villain convinced each of them that the other was plotting the village’s destruction, Wo-Ping retrieved his sword and Mei hers.

At last I would see them fight! I could see the intricate scrollwork on Wo-Ping’s sword and feel the delicate balance yet razor sharpness of Mei’s. When sword met sword, I saw sparks fly.

I forgot all about the Dignity and my own plans for China. I had fully entered the believable world Snowe spun, and it was as though I were an eyewitness to the battle. So it was with no small amount of bewilderment on my part when Wo-Ping suddenly ran, weightless, up the wall, and Mei followed him.

“What?” I cried aloud. “How can that be?”

“It is the story, Isabella. Accept it as it is. May I continue?”

I gave my consent somewhat unhappily. I had thought the story real. Yet more magical feats occurred than running up walls. Wo-Ping and Mei could all but fly, Wo-Ping made himself invisible, and Mei hurled balls of fire from her palms. Sadly, I stopped Snowe in midsentence. “I do not wish to hear any more.”

“For just tonight or any nights hence?” he said.

“I am not certain.” I felt shaken.

He was silent on his side of the canvas curtain. “It is but a story, Isabella. Do you believe that King Arthur truly tossed Excalibur into water, only to have it caught by the lady of the lake? Is Britain allowed her myths, but not China?”

I had no response.

“We are but a few days from Cape Town, where we will pass several nights. Perhaps we can resume the tale once we are aboard ship again.”

I rolled over, turning my back to the canvas. I could not explain my disappointment, but it was there nonetheless. “Perhaps,” I mumbled.

Other than the sound of water bumping the ship and the perpetual creak of timbers, our cabin was silent. At length I said, “You have yet to procure my sword, Phineas Snowe.”

He groaned. “Go to sleep, Isabella.”

The next morning I saw Miss Whipple strolling alone about the deck. The weather had indeed grown warmer as we sailed farther south, and she had abandoned her shawl. I thought that she looked quite respectable in a lovely blue muslin dress with a deeper blue ribbon in her hair. Mr. Gilpin did not seem to share my sentiments, however, as he passed her, barely acknowledged her presence, and moved on.

Flora would have boxed my ears for such behavior, but I could not stand to see Miss Whipple slighted. I fell in step beside her.

She glanced at me with surprise. “I was not certain if you would speak to me today.”

“Why ever not?” I said, smiling. “Perhaps it is Phineas who will not speak to you.”

“It would be of no consequence.” She shrugged. “I could not stand another moment whereby I knew he lied to you. You two have spoken?”

“Indeed we have.”

“The expression on your face indicates that the conversation was to your advantage.”

“I believe it was to both our advantages. Phineas knows that I will keep his secret, and now I do not have to worry about being left behind in Cape Town.”

“You should be careful, Miss Goodrich. He might yet find a way to change your plans.”

“Thank you for the counsel, but I believe not.”

We walked together in silence. Men overhead climbed the rigging, tending to some matter of a sail. Mr. Gilpin frowned at us, and I took Miss Whipple’s arm in my own and turned us aft. “Let us go astern.”