The strangeness of the surroundings created a kind of stupor on the storm-shocked Hind: only when a cry rang out to announce the sighting of the mainland — kinara agil hai! — was the spell broken. The lookout’s shout set off a race to the maindeck; even some of the wounded, barely able to stand on their own feet, went hobbling forward to catch their first glimpse of the land of Maha-chin.
At first the coast was only a distant smudge on the horizon, but when its contours began to take shape, maps and telescopes were fetched so that the salient features could be identified. Standing by the binnacle Mr Doughty raised a fingertip and turned it in a northeasterly direction. ‘That over there, is the island of Hong Kong!’
On the starboard side of the quarter-deck, Shireen’s knuckles whitened on the gunwale as she leant forward, straining to look ahead.
‘Here.’Jogging Shireen’s elbow, Freddie held out a spyglass: ‘Here, with this you will see better, lah. Hong Kong is that one — tallest and biggest of those islands, over there.’
The distant peaks were wreathed in cloud but the slopes below were treeless, strangely barren. The island seemed to be sparsely inhabited; the only dwellings to be seen were a few clusters of houses on the shore.
A lump rose to Shireen’s throat as she stared at the windswept massif: so this was where Bahram had found his resting-place? This was where his journey had ended — this forbidding eyrie of an island, so far from his native Gujarat? The weather-battered desolation of the place created an aching melancholy in her: she tried and failed to envision Bahram’s grave, lying amidst those slopes.
She turned to Zadig Bey, who was standing beside her. ‘Do you think we’ll be able to visit my husband’s grave today?’
Zadig scratched his chin. ‘I don’t know if it’ll be possible today, Bibiji,’ he said. ‘I must first find my friend Robin Chinnery, to make sure that arrangements have been made for your accommodation in Macau. But we will go to Hong Kong as soon as possible, I promise.’
*
‘And you see that promontory, abeam of the larboard bow?’ boomed Mr Doughty, pointing in a north-westerly direction. ‘Somewhere there lies Macau!’
Down on the maindeck, Raju raised a hand to shade his eyes as he peered ahead: Macau was where his journey would end; this was where he would be reunited with his father!
Excitement and anticipation bubbled up in him until they could no longer be contained. ‘Look!’ he said to Dicky. ‘That’s where I am going — Macau! That’s where my uncle is!’
Dicky pulled a face. ‘Lucky bastard!’ he said enviously. ‘How is it that you civvy buggers have all these bloody uncles, and aunts, and fathers, and mothers?’
The fifer spat overboard, into the foam-flecked sea. ‘We Lower Orphanage fellows, we don’t have even one bloody relative.’
Although Dicky’s tone was jocular there was an edge to it that made Raju wilt: the pleasure with which he had been looking forward to leaving the ship now gave way to a guilty unease for having so joyfully welcomed the prospect of abandoning his friend. Turning away in confusion, Raju went down to the cubicle and began to gather his meagre belongings together. He was stuffing them into his ditty-bag when Zachary came in.
‘So this is it I guess, eh kid-mutt? You and I will soon be going our own ways?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Raju shyly held out his hand. ‘Thank you for bringing me with you, sir. If not for you I wouldn’t be here.’
Zachary smiled as he shook the boy’s hand. ‘You’re a good lad, kid-mutt,’ he said. ‘I hope things work out well for you.’
A minute later, the ship’s bell began to ring, announcing the sighting of the fleet.
They went racing back to the deck to find that a mass of Union Jacks had appeared on the waters ahead, at the western edge of the Pearl River estuary.
The grandeur of the landscape made the fleet look even more impressive than at Singapore: its masts, flags and pennants were so thickly bunched together that it was as if a great fortress had arisen out of the water.
Twenty warships were at anchor there, including three seventy-four-gun men-o’-war, Wellesley, Melville and Blenheim; two forty-four-gun frigates, Druid and Blonde and no fewer than four steamers. Clustered around them were twenty-six transport and supply vessels with names like Futty Salaam, Hooghly, Rahmany, Sulimany, Rustomjee Cowasjee and Nazareth Shah. And everywhere in the channel, circling ravenously around the ships of the fleet, were bumboats — hundreds of them, bedecked with a vast array of wares: vegetables, meat, fruit, souvenirs.
Guarding the fleet’s southern flank was a twenty-eight-gun frigate, Alligator. No sooner had the Hind drawn level with the frigate than her towropes were tossed off: in her present state she was in no condition to wend her way through those crowded waters to join her sister vessel, the Ibis, which was a good distance away.
Even before the Hind had dropped anchor, cutters, lighters and bumboats were converging on her from every direction.
*
The Hind’s cargo of opium was large enough that it took a good few hours to offload it into a longboat. By the time Zachary stepped into the boat, to escort the cargo to the Ibis, it was well past noon.
The air was as heavy as a hot compress: the torpid stillness of the afternoon had created a steamy haze so that the towering masts of the anchored frigates shimmered like trees in a fog.
Zachary was sitting in the stern of the longboat, facing forward: rounding the prow of a sloop-o’-war he caught sight of a large daub of orange, sitting perched in the bows of a fast-moving gig.
In a few minutes the splash of colour resolved itself into a familiar shape and form.
‘Baboo Nob Kissin?’
‘Master Zikri!’ cried the gomusta. ‘Is it you?’
The gomusta, overjoyed, made an attempt to rise to his feet, almost overturning the gig. Sinking quickly back to the bench, he cried: ‘Master Zikri, you will live a hundred years! For you only I was going to look — it is a very urgent matter!’
‘What is it, Baboo?’
‘Captain Chillingworth is laid down with severe indispositions: one day stool is like porridge next day like curds. Tongue has also become black and furry, like bandicoot’s tail. He has been evacuated to Manila. In his absence I am glad to intimate an auspicious news: in lieu of himself Mr Chillingworth has appointed you captain of Ibis!’
‘Me? Captain?’ Zachary narrowed his eyes. ‘Are you ironizing me, Baboo?’
‘Hai, hai!’ Shaking his head solemnly, Baboo Nob Kissin bit his tongue. ‘I would never treat such a matter, with levitation. Look — I can prove to you that I am not laughing in my sleeve.’ Baboo Nob Kissin drew out a sealed letter and handed it over: ‘Here is authorization-chitty, issued by Mr Chillingworth. It is most fortunate that you have arrived today. You must join duty now only. Departure has been preponed — we must set sail tomorrow.’
As Zachary was examining the letter, Baboo Nob Kissin lowered his voice and leant a little closer. ‘One secret I will impart: all this was my idea — I only told Captain Chillingworth that you are suitable for captain’s job. Now see how nicely everything has worked out? You will be able to sell your own opium and Mr Burnham’s also. Soon you will be making money, fist over wrist!’