‘Thank you, sir,’ said Raju. ‘And goodbye.’
‘Goodbye. Be careful.’
As Raju ran off, Freddie seemed to lapse into a trance. Then, without a word to Paulette, he began to walk towards the door at the end of the gangway. Following on his heels, Paulette looked over his shoulder as he put a hand on the doorknob and pushed it open.
There was a heap of furniture inside, silhouetted against a pair of moonlit windows. One of the windows was open and its shutter was flapping gently in the breeze; beside it stood an empty chair.
Freddie walked over to the window at a slow, measured pace, almost as though he were afraid of what he would find. Paulette heard a deep sigh as he looked over the sill.
‘Come. See.’
Stepping up to the window she saw that a rope-ladder was hanging from the rim, flapping gently in the breeze.
‘Is it this ladder you saw that day?’ said Freddie. ‘Was is it hanging like this, eh?’
‘Maybe, I cannot say,’ said Paulette. ‘Anyway why is it hanging there now?’
Freddie made no reply. Leaning forward, he thrust his head out of the window and looked down into the water, at the shimmering reflection of the moon.
For a while he seemed to listen to the waves, with his eyes closed. Then she heard him say: ‘I can hear them, lah — calling me, the two of them, my mother and father.’
On an impulse she put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back. His angular cheekbones stood out in the silvery moonlight, lending a strange beauty to his gaunt, haunted face.
‘You cannot go,’ said Paulette. ‘I will not let you.’
‘Why?’
‘Didn’t you say yourself? That the bonds of the Ibis are very strong? We all need each other.’
Seventeen
Two days after the start of the English New Year, Compton came over to Whampoa unexpectedly, bearing freshly issued orders for the Cambridge to move to a new position. She was to be taken downriver to the island of North Wantung, which lay directly opposite Humen, at the centre of the Tiger’s Mouth.
The Cambridge weighed anchor that very day, with Compton on board: he was under instructions to accompany the crew. About the reasons for these changes he said nothing and Neel knew better than to ask.
This was the first time the Cambridge had undertaken a voyage of any length. Somewhat to Neel’s surprise the crew performed well together and the vessel made good time.
As they sailed downriver it became apparent to both Neel and Jodu that some kind of military action — offensive or defensive — was imminent. Extensive preparations were in progress along the river: earthworks and fortifications were being strengthened; new, camouflaged gun-emplacements had been built, and flotillas of war-junks were patrolling the channel. Twice, the Cambridge had to stop to pick up contingents of ‘water-braves’: they were travelling upriver to augment the naval force that was stationed at Humen, under the command of Admiral Guan Tiaifei (whom Neel and Compton had seen in action, in those very waters, fifteen months before).
On drawing abreast of Humen, they spotted a vessel with an American flag lying at anchor near the customs house. The flag was a decoy, Compton told Neel; the ship was actually carrying a cargo of tea for Lancelot Dent, the prominent British merchant. The transaction had been arranged by Dent’s old compradore, Peng Bao, who was now Governor-General Qishan’s translator.
That a man in as prominent a position as Peng Bao was openly colluding with an infamous opium trader like Lancelot Dent was shocking enough to Neel. But he soon learnt that this was by no means the worst of it: Compton told him that after Commissioner Lin’s removal from power many of Guangdong’s officials had gone back to their old ways and were busy feathering their own nests.
The Cambridge dropped anchor just off the tip of North Wantung Island, which was a steeply rising massif of rock, in the centre of the mile-wide channel. Here too there was a formidable fort, equipped with many heavy guns. Not far from the fort were the moorings of a new defensive barrier: a massive iron chain that ran all the way across the main shipping channel, to Humen.
Later that day Admiral Guan arrived in person to inspect the Cambridge.
Neel and the lascars watched from a respectful distance as the ship’s Chinese officers showed the admiral around: he was a distinguished-looking man in his early sixties: plainly dressed, in a dark, winter cape; on his hat was a red button. Compton explained later that this was an emblem of very high rank.
Before returning to his own junk the admiral offered a few words of encouragement to the lascars, telling them the British might attack any day and that they would earn rich rewards if they succeeded in bringing down a warship: the prize money for a seventy-four-gun frigate had now been raised to fifty thousand Spanish dollars.
Neel’s impression was of a genial, capable and highly intelligent man; this assessment was shared by Jodu who said that the admiral seemed much more knowledgeable and businesslike than the other dignitaries who had visited the Cambridge.
The next morning Neel, Jodu, Compton and a few others took a tour of the Tiger’s Mouth in a sailboat. Cruising around that wide expanse of water Neel understood how this section of the channel came by its name: narrow at both ends, the basin seemed to be bounded by powerful jaws on all sides. At one end the river flowed in as if through a gullet: here lay the area’s mightiest defences — the battlements and gun-emplacements of Humen and North Wantung. At the other end, where the river debouched into the estuary, lay two more sets of fortifications: the island of Shaitok — or Chuenpee as it was known to foreigners — was on the eastern side. Facing it across the channel was another citadel, on the headland known as Tytock.
At the end of the tour their party went ashore and walked around Chuenpee. Neel saw that there had been many changes in the fifteen months since he and Compton had last visited the island. The hamlet they had stayed in was now empty, abandoned by its inhabitants. At that time the island had been defended by two fortresses: one was on a hilltop while the other was a fortified gun-emplacement on the shore. The two had now been joined together to form a single rambling fort, enclosed by ramparts that ran all the way up the hill. These in turn were flanked by a dry moat and breastworks.
Seen from the ramparts of Chuenpee the whole of the Tiger’s Mouth looked like a vast fortified stronghold with a lake at its centre: on every eminence and promontory there were battlements and batteries. On all sides of the channel were gun-ports, hundreds of them, each marked with a colourful device: the head of a tiger.
The fortifications were impressive enough to reassure even Jodu, who had earlier voiced some doubts about the effectiveness of the defences. The British would not be able to break through, he declared confidently; not unless they destroyed every single fort.
They returned to the Cambridge in high good humour; it seemed to them that the Tiger’s Mouth was like a trap primed to close upon the British fleet.
*
Soon after the start of the English New Year the weather turned very cold and the Pearl River estuary was whipped by icy winds. On Saw Chow Island, where there was little cover, the effects were especially severe: the sepoys and camp-followers were forced into a kind of semi-hibernation; only when it was absolutely necessary did they leave their tents. Few were those who thought of anything but stuffing their stomachs and huddling under their coverings.