James Clavell - Gai-Jin

What would you like to drink? We were truly lucky last night--apart from Andr`e, poor chap."

"Yes. Pity. The will of God." Seratard frowned, still looking at labels. "Ah!

Montrachet, '51. Two bottles?"' "At least two. George is joining us.

Might as well taste a Margaux--I recommend the '48, Ch`ateau Pichon-Longuville--and a Ch`ateau d'allyquem with the pudding."

"Perfect, shame we have no cheese. No chance Yoshi will appear now?"' "If he does we won't see him."

"At the Club meeting you said dinner tonight. You want to discuss something special with the others?"' "Yes." The cellar was cool and pleasant.

A few glasses stood on a sideboard beside the racks. Sir William selected a half bottle of champagne and began to open it. "I think we must pretend the fire is not the disaster it really is and press ahead against Sanjiro, and his capital Kagoshima."

"Now?"' Seratard was very surprised. "But surely sending the fleet when we're so exposed is highly dangerous, isn't it? Tempting them?"' "Very, but that's my point. My proposal is that we send British warships only, keeping your flagship and the Russian here, with the armed merchantmen. We cancel sending army units for the proposed landing and send only marines. Simply make it a sea bombardment." He popped the cork and poured. "That'll make Ketterer's mission much easier, he never liked the idea of commanding a seaborne landing. Now he can stand off in the bay and pound the devil out of them. Health."

The two men touched glasses, Seratard churning the proposal around to find the pitfalls, any places where his adversary had planted mines to disrupt French interests. There were none. On the contrary, this helped his long-term plan to ingratiate himself into Yoshi's confidence, making him realize the British were the barbarians, not the French, and that France, which he equated with himself, could be trusted to be more patient and far seeing. "Marvelous vintage, William.

En principe, yes but I'd like to consult my Admiral."

"Why not? Then that's what we'll do..."

Lunch had been pleasant. In good time they were aboard and now Sir William swung nimbly on deck as the cutter tied up alongside the Brock wharf, an unheard-of happening. He saw Gornt with a clerk beside some trunks near the jetty steps. "Hope you didn't mind, Mr.Gornt," he said. "I commandeered the cutter, it's under my flag not Struan's."

"My pleasure, Sir William. How was the meeting?"

"Damn fellow didn't turn up, didn't expect us I suppose."

"He's lost face from here to Timbuktu."

"Q." Which was the whole idea, Sir William thought with a secret smile and pointed to the trunks. "You're not leaving surely?"

"No suh, but I am going to Hong Kong by tonight's packet to arrange building supplies for ourselves and others."

"Good idea. Have a safe journey and safe return." He raised his hat and walked off with Seratard. Tyrer, sick with tiredness, reeled after them, hardly acknowledging Gornt.

"Put these aboard, Periera," Gornt said.

"Tell the Captain I'll be aboard in good time. Oh hello, Doc." Hoag hurried up with some coolies bowed under a sea trunk and bags.

"I say, Edward, heard you're on the Atlanta Belle too." Hoag was out of breath and harassed, his clothes and hands bloodstained and filthy, eyes red-rimmed. "Could I prevail on your people to put these aboard for me, I've still a dozen or so arms and legs to set and burns... thanks awfully." He rushed off, not waiting for an answer.

"Put 'em aboard, Periera." Gornt frowned. Why is Hoag in such a hurry to leave? he asked himself.

Everything packed that should be, everything done to ensure Brock's would operate correctly while he was away: which traders to give credit to, which to deny; tomorrow or the next day Choshu representatives were due to discuss arms shipments--a nice business to acquire for himself when the Brocks went under and, as also planned, he acquired the premises and staff here at... well, fire sale prices. He laughed to himself at the joke. Next, the Yoshi coal concession that he had heard might be transferred from Struan's to Seratard through the late Andr`e Poncin's trading company, might still be available to offers. He had instructed his shroff to make such an offer secretly.

Periera was left in charge. Last night, hearing from Maureen that Jamie's new offices were gone, he had planned to appoint Jamie, but to his surprise this afternoon Jamie had thanked him and refused, saying he thought he would be able to re-start his own business.

Jamie would be more icing on the icing, he thought.

Doesn't matter, Jamie'll take over for me when this is all Rothwell-Gornt's. He felt in his pocket.

Norbert's chop was there and the two backdated letters for Tess. His money belt was heavy with more than enough Brock silver Mex and gold for expenses. Good. All done.

Now for Angelique.

"Hello Edward," she said, her smile warm.

This was the first time she had received him in her upstairs boudoir. Ah Soh stood by a wine cooler and he noticed the door to the bedroom was closed, curtains were drawn though the light had not yet completely gone, oil lamps lit, the room feminine, inviting, her manner demure, odd. His tension increased.

"White wine for a change," she said pleasantly. "La Doucette. Bourbon if you wish."

"Wine, please, Ma'am. I've never seen you look better."

"Nor you, my friend. Please sit here, by the fire." Her afternoon, blue-black mourning dress was new, the cut enhancing, the neckline square-cut and modest. But for his pleasure, and hers, she had draped a multicolored silk shawl around her shoulders, the effect startling, a breath of spring on this January day.

"Ah Soh, wine," she said, and when they had the glasses, "Wait outside! I want, I call!" The maid shuffled out and carelessly banged the door closed.

Gornt said softly, "She'll have her ear hard against it."

Angelique laughed. "To hear secrets?

What secrets could there be between us? To a safe journey, Edward!" She sipped and put her glass down. "You're all packed?"

"Yes, yes I am. You look wonderful and I love you and would like an answer to my question."

Her fan slid open and she began using it as it should be used by a young lady of quality with an eligible man of quality--and ones of dubious reputation--to tantalize, flirt, to promise but not promise, to give answers, or avoid them, to questions that were dangerous to acknowledge openly.

The fan fluttered. "I admire you greatly, Edward."

"No more than I admire you. But a yes or a no?"

The fan snapped shut. Then she smiled and opened a box on the bureau, handed him an envelope. It was addressed: Mrs. Tess Struan. "Please read the letter. I am sending it by Hoag to Hong Kong in answer to hers."

Her handwriting was neat: Dear Mrs. Struan, Thank you for your letter, and generosity.

I agree to everything you requested: I solemnly swear and agree freely to relinquish all and any claims to your son's estate, I agree never again to use the title Mrs.Struan, I agree I am Catholic and was never married according to my Church, I agree never to set foot in Hong Kong except for transshipping, or will ever try to contact you and any of your family, I agree to remove myself from these premises within the week, and accept, with sincere thanks, the offer of a trust of Two Thousand Guineas a year until I am dead.

The space for her signature was blank and then below it: Verified as a true signature by Sir William Aylesbury, Minister Japan, and another space for his signature and date.

Gornt looked up. "You can't mean this. This gives her everything."

"Didn't you advise me to accept her conditions?"

"Yes, but to compromise--to renegotiate."

"Ah, yes, I remembered that. If you agree I'll ask Sir William to witness it now, before you leave. Dr. Hoag has promised to take it tonight on your ship, so it will be there when you arrive."