Holmes rose to put his head out of the window, pulling it back with ‘Well, I think we’re near enough out of the Old Buddha’s control. Would you like to know what we agreed?’
‘My good friend,’ I answered, between gritted teeth, ‘how very clever of you to divine my curiosity! Are you sure you aren’t a Consulting Detective?’
Holmes replenished the tobacco in his briar.
‘Settle back in your seat. Comfortable, aren’t they! These carriages are made in Birmingham, you know.’
He pointed at the floor.
‘There’s a brass plate saying so...’
‘Holmes!’ I yelped, pencil at the ready. ‘Do get on with it!’
At which the last piece of the jigsaw was unfolded. Even now I consider it the gravest risk Europe’s most famous Consulting Detective took in his long and near-flawless career.
‘Above all,’ he began, ‘I had to obtain the Great Ancestress’s word of honour. You know how much weight she places on propitiating the Great Ancestors. I told the General in no uncertain terms the E-D must give her solemn word on the souls of those very ancestors. Not one hair of the Emperor’s head should be hurt for a period of at least two years.’
‘And you would take her at this word of hers?’ I exclaimed, aghast. ‘Her word alone?’
He chuckled.
‘Her word alone, no. I said I would require her signature on an Imperial Decree. It was to be written in the official manner, on special Imperial yellow paper, the text written in her own hand in Manchu, Chinese and Mongol, and signed in vermilion ink from cinnabar in the same manner as the Emperor.’
He retired the briar to a pocket in his Poshteen Long Coat and took out a cigarette.
‘I mention vermilion ink for a reason. You see, she places a great deal of importance on Imperial Decrees, except Wang told me she has a very cunning trick when she doesn’t want a particular Decree to retain its force. She signs with pencil which can fade within weeks.’
Dismayed by his complacency I demanded, ‘Why would so powerful a ruler bother to obey? She would consider your stipulation utter insolence.’
He leaned back and blew little wavering rings of smoke.
‘You ask what will make an Empress Dowager stick to her promise? In a word, mockery, Watson. An ounce of derision is worth a dozen broadsides from a Dreadnought’s guns. It’s true there’s no way the Empress Dowager and General Yuán can be overthrown while every man in China fears them but they would fall in a trice if four hundred million citizens mock them. Mockery is a weapon of such power not even the most intractable dictator can withstand it. Keeping Face, fear of shame, and dread of ridicule are more deeply ingrained in the Chinese character than in any other nation under the sun. The Old Buddha could visualise the reaction of every governor of every province of China if they watched your film. The soldiery of the New Army. Every weathercock Mandarin. Even the three thousand eunuchs in the Forbidden City. And what of the world’s ambassadors? The Empress Dowager and the General tip-toeing towards a sleeping Emperor to watch Li Lien Ying pour poison into an ear they’ve deliberately shattered a week or so before - only to discover they hadn’t poured it into the shattered ear after all! Yuán took my demands to Her Majesty. An hour later he returned with the response.’
‘Which was?’ I queried.
‘The Empress had agreed with one non-negotiable condition.’
‘Being?’
‘That in turn we must accept her terms.’
Holmes pointed up to the racks above our heads.
‘That she should be allowed to shower upon us every conceivable high honour available to her.’
My comrade paused to observe the incredulity writ large on my face.
‘Why, Watson,’ he continued, ‘do you think the Old Buddha plied us with all the honours and mementos she could heap upon us? When she conferred the Ancestral Rank of the First Class of the First Order for Three Generations on me she whispered in my ear, ‘Sir Sherlock, you and Dr, Watson came like strangers from the farthest star in the firmament. You interrupted the flow of our history. You gave life back to the Emperor. In doing so you have rekindled hope among the Modernists, thereby endangering my throne. You have imprisoned my soul in that Mu.to.scope. Yet I can’t have my people gaining the impression I was involved in a dastardly plot against the Son of Heaven. I must therefore be seen publicly to shower you with these gifts and honours, as your reward for saving the Emperor’s life’.’
Still chortling, Holmes repeated Yuán’s account of the meeting in detaiclass="underline"
‘‘I tell you, Sir Sherlock,’ the General told me, ‘it wasn’t easy. First she looked into the Mutoscope with fear and loathing. Then she stood back in complete silence. Then she shouted, ‘The flicker-book must be destroyed at once!’ I put forward the dangers to Her Imperial Majesty’s Empire - even to her Dynasty - if we did not accede to your demands, the demands, I pretended, of Sir Edward Grey. I said I feared Sir Edward too was ready with his battleships to come and destroy the Forbidden City. She said no-one imposes demands on the ruler of the Celestial Kingdom. ‘Destroy the flicker-book!’ she repeated. I told her we could do that but there were more copies of the film. ‘Destroy them too!’ she blazed. I explained they were at the British Embassy awaiting Sir Sherlock’s orders to distribute them to each of the Great Powers.
After a long silence she asked me your terms. I told her she would have to put in writing that she wouldn’t have the Emperor put to death for at least two years. I tell you, Sir Sherlock,’ Yuán went on, ‘it evoked the most spectacular display of the Divine Wrath I’ve ever seen. The Benevolent Countenance went black as thunder. Her eyes were like shooting daggers. Her lip fell. The veins in her forehead bulged. She showed her teeth as if suffering from lockjaw.’
Holmes continued, ‘Yuán ended with, ‘I may be a General in command of half a million men but the cold concentrated fury nearly scared the soul out of me’.’
‘But did she agree to the Emperor’s safety?’ I asked.
‘Yes, but not for la longue durée.’
I persisted, ‘Has she guaranteed two years, at least?’
‘She has.’
‘In writing?’I asked, openly delighted.
He pointed to a pocket in his Poshteen Long coat.
‘In writing,’ came the reply. ‘He’s safe for the while. However, as our friend Shakespeare said, ‘If you can look into the Seeds of Time, and say which Grain will Grow and which will Not, speak then unto me’.’
I fell into a deep reverie to the soothing motion of the train and awoke to see my companion staring out of the carriage window at the immense landscape. I asked, ‘And what of the Empress Dowager? When she dies, will China have a better future, do you suppose?’
Holmes shrugged.
‘We must give this remarkable woman credit. She may be the ruler of a degenerate Dynasty that has long outlived its usefulness, a law unto herself, but look how she comes out of every Palace intrigue with both feet on the ground. I wager when she leaves the scene she will do so with a steadfast and Imperial dignity.’
‘And General Yuán?’
‘A most remarkable man. By no means has the world heard the last of him. He regards the rest of us as ants and termites completely at his disposal. Duplicity is his stratagem. When it suits him, he will betray and usurp the Manchu dynasty with hardly a second thought.’
It was late afternoon. We wended our way along the corridor to the Dining car. Over the entrée I picked up our earlier topic.
‘And what now of England’s rôle in China?’ I asked Holmes.
His hand swept across the broad landscape.