A groundswell of protest had been gathering in the hall and it now grew loud enough to silence the translator.
‘… surrender our entire cargoes…?’
‘… so they can be burned and destroyed…?’
‘… why sir, these are the ravings of a madman, a tyrant…!’
Mr Wetmore raised both his arms. ‘Please, please, gentlemen; this is not all. There is more.’
‘Yet more?’
‘Yes, the Commissioner has another demand,’ said Mr Wetmore. ‘He has asked for a bond.’ He turned to the translator. ‘Please, Mr Fearon, let us hear that part of the edict.’
‘Yes, Mr Wetmore.’ Mr Fearon turned to his notes again.
‘ “I have heard it said that in the ordinary transactions of life you foreigners attach a great deal of importance to the words ‘good faith’. So let a bond be duly prepared, written in the Chinese and Foreign character, stating clearly that the ships afterwards to arrive here shall never, to all eternity, dare to bring any opium. Should any ship after this bring it, then her whole cargo shall be confiscated and her people put to death…” ’
‘Shame!’
‘… this is intolerable, sir…’
The hall was now filled with such an outcry that the Co-Hong merchants took alarm; leaving their seats they sought shelter behind their respective entourages.
Mr Wetmore could no longer make himself heard and his gavel too was ineffective against the uproar. Approaching the first row, he held a hurried consultation with the members of the Committee. ‘There’s no point going on with this,’ he said. ‘Nothing can be decided here anyway. The Committee must convene at once. The Co-Hong needs an immediate answer.’
‘Will their delegation wait?’ said Dent.
‘Yes, they insist on it; they say they cannot return without an answer.’
‘Well, let’s get to it then.’
Under cover of the noise, the Committee and the Co-Hong delegation slipped out of the hall, through a back door, and made their way up to the third floor. While the Committee filed into the boardroom the Co-Hong merchants were left to wait in the commodious withdrawing-room that adjoined the President’s office.
As they went to take their seats, many members of the Committee were surprised, and some not a little put out, to see that the young translator, Mr Fearon, had accompanied the President into the room. ‘Why, sir,’ said Mr Slade to Mr Wetmore, ‘have you become so attached to your young friend that you’ve put him on the Committee?’
Mr Wetmore glared at him coldly. ‘Mr Fearon is here to read us the rest of the edict.’
‘Is there more?’ Dent asked.
‘So there is.’ Mr Wetmore nodded to the translator, who began to read.
‘ “In reference to those vagabond foreigners who reside in the foreign hongs and are in the habit of selling opium, I already know their names full well. Those good foreigners who do not deal in opium, I am no less acquainted with them also.” ’
At the mention of ‘good foreigners’ several pairs of eyes turned to glare angrily at Charles King. He pretended not to notice and looked stonily ahead.
‘ “Those who can point out the vagabond foreigners and compel them to deliver up their opium, those who first step forward and give the bond, these are the good foreigners, and I, the Imperial envoy, will speedily bestow upon them some distinguishing mark of my approbation.” ’
Now, unable to contain himself, Mr Slade burst out: ‘Why, the utter loathesomeness of it – he is promising to reward the traitors amongst our midst.’
Since he was looking directly at Charles King, there could be no doubt of who he was referring to. Mr King’s face turned colour and he was about to respond when Mr Wetmore broke in, once again.
‘Please, gentlemen,’ said Mr Wetmore, ‘Mr Fearon is not yet finished – and may I remind you that he is not a member of the Committee and ought not to be privy to any part of our deliberations?’
The rebuke silenced Mr Slade. Mr Fearon, thoroughly rattled, continued to read:
‘ “Woe and happiness, disgrace and honour are in your hands! It is you who must choose for yourselves. I have ordered the Hong merchants to go to your factories and explain the matter to you. I have set, as the limit, three days within which they must let me have a reply. And at the same time the bond, mentioned before, must also be produced. Do not indulge in delay and expectation!” ’
By the time the last words were read, the room was stirring with indignation. Nothing was said, however, until the young translator had been thanked and shown to the door. Then Mr Wetmore took his chair again, and gave Mr Burnham the nod.
Mr Burnham sank back into his chair and stroked his silky beard. ‘Let us be clear about what we have just heard,’ he said calmly. ‘An open threat has been issued against us; our lives, our property, our liberty are in jeopardy. Yet the only offence cited against us is that we have obeyed the laws of Free Trade – and it is no more possible for us to be heedless of these laws than to disregard the forces of nature, or disobey God’s commandments.’
‘Oh come now, Mr Burnham,’ said Charles King. ‘God has scarcely asked you to send vast shipments of opium into this country, against the declared wishes of its government and in contravention of its laws?’
‘Oh please, Mr King,’ snapped Mr Slade, ‘need I remind you that the force of law obtains only between civilized nations? And the Commissioner’s actions of today prove, if proof were needed, that this country cannot be included in that number?’
‘Are you of the opinion then,’ said King, ‘that no civilized nation would seek to ban opium? That is contrary to fact, sir, as we know from the practices of our own governments.’
‘I fear, Miss King,’ said Slade in a voice that was dripping with innuendo, ‘that your Celestial sympathies may have robbed you of your ability to comprehend plain English. You have misinterpreted my meaning. It is the nature of the Commissioner’s threats that show him to be a creature beyond the pale of civilization. Does he not, in his letter, threaten to incite the population against us? Does he not imply that he holds our property and lives at his mercy? I assure you, sir, that such proud, ostentatious and unheard-of assumptions would not be made against us by the representatives of any civilized government.’
‘Gentlemen, gentlemen,’ Mr Wetmore broke in. ‘This is neither the time nor the place to conduct a debate on the nature of civilized government. Let me remind you that we have been issued an ultimatum and our friends from the Co-Hong are awaiting our answer.’
‘ “Ultimatum”?’ said Mr Slade. ‘Why, that very word is repugnant to British ears. To respond to it in any form would be to countenance an insult to the Queen herself.’
At this point Dent tapped the table with his forefinger. ‘I am not of a mind with you on this, Slade. To me, this ultimatum seems a most welcome development.’
‘Indeed? Pray why?’
‘The enemy has hoisted his colours and fired his first broadside. It falls to us now to respond.’
‘And what do you propose we do?’ said Mr Burnham.
Dent looked around the table with a smile. ‘Nothing. I propose we do nothing.’
‘Nothing?’
‘Yes. Let us inform our friends in the Co-Hong that this is a matter of the gravest import and cannot be proceeded upon without due consideration and consultation. Let us tell them this process will take several days – that will give us time to see what this man Lin is made of. An ultimatum is easy to issue but difficult to act upon.’
Having had his say, Dent leant back in his chair and began to doodle upon a piece of paper. It was Mr Burnham who broke the silence. ‘Why Dent, you’re right! It is a stroke of genius. That is what we must do – nothing. Let us see if this Commissioner’s bite is as bad as his bark.’