"Christ Almighty, Roper, get below," he shouted to the engineer. "Rest of you buggers get oars on deck in case we're stuffed... Jesus Christ, and McFay's got smoke out of his arse that we're up to scratch... Roper," he roared, "wot's the problem for God's sake, Roper. Get the lead out!" Again he trained his binoculars on the window. No sign of anyone.
But Struan was there, his binoculars on the cutter, and he had been watching since it arrived at the frigate. He cursed for he could see the Bosun clearly now and the man should have known he would be watching and could easily give him a signal, yes or no. "Not his fault for God's sake," he said, "you forgot to set the signal. Idiot!"
Never mind, the weather's good enough, no harbinger of any storm at all points, not that a small one would hurt Pearl. He refocused on the flagship. Her cutter was returning from visiting Pearl. She must've been delivering orders.
The door behind him swung open. Chen came in breezily with a steaming cup of tea. "'morn, Tai-pan. You-ah no slip heya, gud cha chop chop?"
"Ayeeyah! How many times do I have to tell you to talk the civilized tongue and not pidgin. Are your ears filled with the dung of your ancestors and your brains curdled?"
Chen kept the smile on his face but groaned inside. He had expected the sally to make Struan laugh. "Ayeeyah, so sorry," and added the traditional Chinese greeting, the equivalent of "Good morning,"
"Have you eaten rice today?"
"Thank you." Through the glasses Malcolm saw an officer get out of the flagship cutter and go up the gangway. Nothing to indicate one way or another. Damn!
He accepted the cup. "Thanks." At the moment he had no special pain, just the normal bearable ache, he had already taken his morning dose. For the last week he had managed to cut back on the amount. Now he had one in the morning, one in the evening, and had sworn, in future, it would be one a day if this day went well.
The tea was good. It was mixed with real milk, thick with sugar and as it was the first of the day, it was laced with a small tot of rum, a tradition started by Dirk Struan, his father had told him.
"Chen, put out my heavy breeches and jersey and I'll wear a topcoat."
Chen was startled. "I heard the voyage was off, Tai-pan."
"In the name of all gods when did you hear that?"
"Last night, Tai-pan. Fifth Cousin in the House of Chief Foreign Devil heard him talking with Big Ship Squashed Toadstool Nose who said No voyage."
Malcolm's stomach sank and he groped to the window. To his shock he saw the cutter was wallowing two hundred metres offshore. No bow wave. He began to curse violently and then he saw funnel smoke begin and the bow wave appear as the cutter picked up speed. His binoculars raked the deck but all he could see was the Bosun shouting, with oars on deck in case of a further breakdown. At that speed the cutter would be at their dock in under ten minutes.
With Chen's help he dressed. A quick check showed that the cutter was almost ashore. He opened the window and craned out as the Bosun climbed on to the jetty and began running as fast as his big belly would allow.
"Ho there, Bosun!"
The grizzled man was panting by the time he was near enough to the window. "Cap'n Marlowe's compliments," he gasped, "will you and the, and the Lady please step aboard."
Struan let out a whoop of joy.
He sent for Ah Soh, told her to wake and dress Angelique quickly. Then, quietly, he said, "Listen, Chen, and don't interrupt or I shall be like a firecracker..." and gave him instructions what to pack, and what to order Ah Soh to pack and to bring the trunks aboard Prancing Cloud at sunset. "Missy and I will dine aboard and sleep aboard and you two will stay aboard also, and return to Hong Kong with us ..."
Chen was overjoyed. "Hong Kong! Ayeeyah Tai-pa--"
"... And both of you will keep your mouths shut tighter than a fly's anus or I will ask Noble House Chen to remove your names from the family book." He saw Chen go grey. He had never used the threat before. The family book was every Chinese male's connection to immortality, to their ancestors in the mystic past and to far-off descendants, when he himself would be considered a distant ancestor, and beyond. Wherever a Chinese was born in the world, he was written into his ancestral village records. Without that he did not exist.
"Yes, Master. But Ah Tok?"
"I'll deal with her. Fetch her."
Chen went for the door. She was outside it. He fled. She strode in. Struan said that he had decided she would follow in the next boat and that was that.
"Oh ko, my son," she said, her voice honeyed. "What you decide for your old Mother is not what your old Mother decides is best for herself and her son. We will go home. We will be silent.
No stinky foreign devils will know. Of course all civilized persons will be interested in the plot. We will go home together. Do you take your whore with you?" She stood under his tongue-lashing, ordering her never ever to use that word again--or else.
"Ayeeyah," she muttered as she left, her words dying away gradually, "your old Mother won't call that whore your whore again but all gods bear witness, if not whore what do I call her, whore is the correct name? Is my son daft..."
When he saw Angelique his anger evaporated. "My word!"
She was wearing riding clothes, boots, long skirt, tight at the waist, waistcoat and cravat and coat and hat with a green feather, gloves but no riding crop. "I thought this best, darling, for boating," she said, smiling gloriously.
"Welcome aboard." Marlowe was at the head of the gangway, looking splendid in uniform.
Before stepping onto the deck, Malcolm awkwardly hung on with his left hand, Angelique holding his sticks, raised his top hat formally, "Permission to come aboard?"
Marlowe saluted and grinned. "Welcome, you are both most welcome aboard. May I?" he took Angelique's arm, weak from the intensity of her smile and the cut of her jacket that dramatized her figure, and led the way to the bridge, forward of the funnel. He waited until Malcolm was settled in a sea chair.
"Cast off, Mister Lloyd," he said to his Number One, Davyd Lloyd. "Quarter ahead and steady as she goes."
Pearl eased off her moorings under power.
"Soon as we're clear we'll up speed," he said. "Admiral's ordered us to conduct steam trials in sight of the flagship."
Struan's happiness vanished. "In sight of him? We're not going out to sea, out of sight of land?"
Marlowe laughed. "I suppose he likes his "children" on a short leash. It'll be fun, I promise."
Then we're aboard, but not aboard for the right reason, Struan was thinking, the bastard's a sadist! And if the Admiral had been aboard he felt sure he would have killed him quite happily. Well, not really, but I'd like the bugger dealt with. He'll wish he had helped me. When I get back I'll reverse everything and be a thorn in his nose he won't forget.
Meanwhile what do I do now?
There was so much going on that Marlowe and Angelique did not notice the despair he strove to conceal. The frigate was making way through the fleet, not a few sailors and officers from the other ships noticing Angelique, and, some of them, the fine way Pearl was being conned.
Aboard the French flagship, the twenty-gun paddle steamer they passed close to, sailors whistled and waved, appalling the British officers.
Good God, Marlowe thought, what bloody bad manners and awful discipline! All the same he watched benignly as Angelique waved back, to a chorus of whistles and catcalls.
To distract her, Marlowe said, "We're going to make speed trials, Angelique, under steam first and then sail. Have to strain the new mast, test her, you won't remember but we lost our mainmast in the storm. You see..." He chatted away, explaining this and that, answering every question she felt obliged to ask.