We have witnesses. If you like I can officiate ... it'd be legal." He saw her confusion and looked at Skye, "Heavenly, legally that's right? Well isn't it, for God's sake?"
"It'd be legal." Skye's nervousness increased as a larger than usual wave slapped the side of the boat, Hoag also feeling squeamish.
Jamie took another deep breath.
"Angelique, this whole idea, the whole burial is bizarre to say the least, a little more won't harm Malcolm. I brought a Bible and Naval Regs, I had to fetch them, that's why I was late. What do you say?"
In answer she put her arms around him, the tears wetting her cheeks. "Let's begin.
Please, Jamie, quickly."
Jamie McFay held her and found the closeness pleasing.
Skye said, "What about the Bosun and stoker?"
Jamie snapped, "I already told you I'll deal with them." Gently he loosed himself and slid the door back. "Bosun," he called out, "cast off! Head for Kanagawa."
"Aye aye sorr." Glad that some decision had been made, Tinker took the craft to sea and turned northwards for the far shore. Waves made her bob and weave but not too badly, wind still well within limits, the sky promising no worse than before. Humming a sea chanty made him feel better.
Soon Jamie joined him. "You head for the Legation jetty. We're going to take a coffin aboard..." He saw the Bosun's bite harder on his pipe. "A coffin. Then we're going out to sea a league to deep water and we're going to bury him. We'll have a ceremony and you'll be part of it, you and our stoker." Jamie looked at him. "Any questions?"
"Me, sorr? No sorr."
Jamie nodded tautly and went below again. The others said nothing, watching the coastline and Kanagawa, dead ahead.
In the wheelhouse, the Bosun picked up the metal voice tube, beside the helm, unhooked it and bellowed to his stoker down in the engine room.
"Get the lead out, Percy!"
The warehouse shed was where Hoag had said, within easy distance of the jetty. The coffin was on a wooden bench. Skye, Hoag, the Bosun and stoker each took a corner and lifted it easily. After they left, Jamie closed the door, following them. He had thought it best for Angelique to stay in the cabin. A few fisher folk and villagers passed by, bowed and hurried away, not wanting to be anywhere near gai-jin.
To maneuver the coffin aboard was more difficult.
The rise and fall of the deck, slippery with salt water, was hazardous. "Wait a sec," the stoker gasped, "lemme get aboard."
He was a short man wearing a tattered woolen skullcap, with heavy shoulders and immense forearms. Once on the deck he spread his feet wide and grasped the coffin mid-center and heaved it aboard and part way into the cabin, almost by himself. The vein-stretching effort made him fart involuntarily and loudly. "Pardon all," he said gruffly, then hauled the box further to safety. One end was in the cabin the other projecting aft onto the poop.
"We'll lash it there," Jamie said.
"Aye aye sorr."
"Afternoon, Doctor Hoag." The voice was dour.
Startled they all looked around. Sergeant Towery and another soldier were watching them balefully.
"Oh! oh good aft--hello Sergeant,"
Hoag said, his voice strangled. With the others he stood stock still. Towery came closer and looked at the coffin. "Well now, what have we 'ere.
Taking the bugger, begging your pardon, Ma'am, taking the coffin to Yokohama, eh?"
"We, we, he asked to be buried at sea, Sergeant," Hoag said. "He, Mr. McFay kindly loaned his cutter so here we are."
"At sea, eh?" Sergeant Towery looked at them, one at a time, as though wanting to etch their faces on his memory. "Very commendable, I'll be bound." Another wait while they died a little more.
Then he said, "At sea, eh? Best not waste time or you'll be feeding fishes too. Ma'am."
Politely he saluted her and marched off, the soldier falling into step.
They did not move for a moment. "Christ,"
Hoag muttered.
"What do you make of that?" Jamie asked.
"Trouble, sorr." Shakily, the Bosun took a swig of rum from his hip flask, passed it to Jamie who took a swig, Hoag shook his head, so did Angelique. The stoker was last.
To Tinker's disgust, he swallowed most of it, belched. "Pardon."
Jamie's stomach was churning. "Bugger appeared from nowhere, as though he was waiting for us.
Did you see him walking up?" They all shook their heads. "We'd best be going."
While they secured the coffin, the Bosun conned the cutter out to sea. She rode the waves well with only spray coming aboard, just enough to be irritating to those on deck. Below, the cabin was noisy but snug, the air clean and well ventilated, keeping out the smell of smoke from the coal-fired engine. Ahead, eastwards, where the deep was, the sky appeared meaner--and nothing beyond between here and America.
"Best be fast, sorr," Tinker said quietly to Jamie in the wheelhouse. "We've no more than an hour or two of light."
"You sense something, Bosun?"
"Best be fast, sorr."
Jamie looked eastwards again. The sky seemed darker. "I agree. Hold your course." He turned to go.
"Sorr, that Sergeant, he's bound to snitch, right?"
"Yes."
"We've to make a funeral, right?"
"Yes."
"What's so important about this 'ere?" Tinker jerked his callused thumb at the coffin, "to risk all that there?" He pointed at the weather.
"We're burying the tai-pan, Malcolm Struan."
The old man laughed. "His coffin's aboard Prancing Cloud, sorr, we both knows that."
"Yes, we both know that. This is, well a symbolic, a token, a make-believe burial to conform with his wishes--and his widow's wishes--to be buried at sea. She doesn't think that will happen in Hong Kong." Jamie knew the risk he was taking but there was no other way. So far he had been able to tell the truth.
"Make-believe, sorr?"
"Yes. That's all. There's nothing to hide and nothing to be afraid of."
Tinker nodded, unconvinced, and thought, There's a body inside, must be with all that weight. But, 'nuff said, don't go asking nobs questions you might not like answered, less you know the better, and let's hope to Christ the weather stays friendly and not shitty as she smells. "Thank you, sorr."
Jamie looked back at the bay that now was far behind. "Just go out of sight of land, Bosun." A last look at all compass points, then he went back to the cabin. "Not long now."
Angelique leaned closer. "What will that soldier do?"
"Report us, bound to. It doesn't matter."
"They can't do anything to us, can they, Mr.Skye?"
"I really can't forecast what, what Sir William might or might not do," Skye said, his stomach sickly conscious of the rise and fall of the deck.
Jamie reached into one of the lockers and brought out the large British flag he had put there, and the Lion and Dragon. Helped by Hoag, he secured them both around the coffin. The cutter was rising and dipping more severely than before and they had to hold on to steady themselves. Angelique sat near the open door. The sea air was wet and cold. She felt the tears beginning so she let the dark veil fall and pretended to look back at the land. "Not long now," Jamie said.
By the time land was just a thread on the horizon, the light was still fair, the sea heavier, waves white-flecked, wind stronger, but everything within limits. No rain. Jamie called out, "Bosun, slow ahead, just enough to give us way."
"Idle it is, sorr!"
Cutting the high-powered thrust of the engines created a sudden pool of near silence, pleasant to their spirits, a welcome relief to the grinding noise and apprehension at being so far out--both Hoag and Skye increasingly queasy. Only the whine of the wind now, and lapping sea, the comforting ticking over of the engine, felt through the decks more than heard, just enough to keep her bow into wind. The wind was firm, easterly, from the ocean, stronger than before. Jamie took a deep breath.