He stared down at the half-opened sack. “Pick it up, Fong.” And he called to his men in the surrounding darkness: “Fall back on the lorcha, lads!”
He covered Fong and they withdrew. When he was well out to sea, he put a chain around the sack and read a service over it and cast it into the deep. He watched it disappear in a tiny circle of sea froth.
Struan would have liked to tell Scragger about the farewell he had had with his sons.
He had put them into the hands of the captain at Whampoa, with letters to The Noble House’s agents in London whom he had made responsible for the boys and their schooling.
“Well, good luck, lads. When I get home I’ll come to see you.”
“Can I be seeing you, Yor Worship, privy?” little Fred had asked, trying not to cry.
“Aye, laddie. Come along.” Struan had taken him into a cabin and Bert, the Eurasian, had been uneasy to be left alone and Wu Pak had held on to Bert’s hand.
“Aye, Fred?” he had asked when they were alone.
“Me dad sayed we was t’ have a proper name afore we be leaving home waters, Yor Worship.”
“Aye, lad. It’s on your papers. I told you last night. Do you na remember?”
“Beggin’ yor pardon, no, Yor Worship. I forgets. Can we be knowing it again, please?”
“You’re Frederick MacStruan,” he had said, for he had taken a liking to the boy and the clan name was a good one. “And Bert’s Bert Chen.”
“Oh,” the little boy had said. “Yus, now I remembers. But why’s we different? Me and my bruvver?”
“Well,” Struan had said as he tousled the boy’s head, remembering with frantic pain the loss of his own sons, “you’ve different mothers, have you na? That’s the reason.”
“Yus. But we be bruwers, Yor Honor,” Fred had said, his tears brimming. “Beggin’ yor pardon, can we be having the same name? Chen’s a proper nice name. Frederick Chen’s nice, Tai-Pan.”
So Struan had changed the papers and the captain had witnessed his signature. “There, lads, now you’re both MacStruan. Albert and Frederick MacStruan.”
Then they had both wept happily and had put their arms around him.
Struan went below and tried to sleep. But sleep would not come. Scragger’s end had sickened him. He knew it was a favorite torture of Wu Fang Choi, Wu Kwok’s father and little Wu Pak’s grandfather. The victim who was to be dismembered was given three days’ time to choose which limb was to come off first. And on the third night a friend of the man would be sent to him secretly to whisper that help was on the way. So the man chose the limb he felt he could most do without until help came. After the tar had healed the stump, the man was forced to choose yet another limb, and again there was the promise of imminent help which would never come. Only the very strong could survive two amputations.
Struan got off the bunk and went on deck. There was a slight swell and the cloud cover had thickened: no moon glow now. The sea was high but safe enough.
“Rain tomorrow, Mr. Struan,” Cudahy said.
“Aye,” he replied. He peered east, into the wind. He could feel the sea watching him.
“Supreme Lady,” Ah Sam said, touching May-may awake. “Father’s cutter’s approaching.”
“Has Lim Din drawn his bath?”
“Yes, Mother. He’s gone upstairs to welcome Father.”
“You can go back to bed, Ah Sam.”
“Shall I wake Second Mother?” Yin-hsi was curled up in a bed at one side of the cabin.
“No. Go back to bed. But first give me my brush and comb, and make sure Lim Din has breakfast ready if Father wants it.”
May-may lay back for a moment, remembering what Gordon Chen had told her. That dirty turtledung assassin! Fancy his accusing my son of being connected with a secret society! He was paid more than enough to keep his mouth shut and die quietly. How foolish!
She eased out of bed cautiously. For the first few seconds her legs felt weak and wobbly. Then she stopped reeling and stood erect.
“Oh,” she said aloud, “that feels better.” She walked to the mirror and studied herself critically. “You look old,” she said to her reflection.
“You don’t at all. And you shouldn’t be out of bed,” Yin-hsi said, sitting up in her bed. “Let me brush your hair. Is Father back? I’m so pleased you’re better. You look really very good.”
“Thank you, Sister. His boat’s just approaching.” May-may allowed Yin-hsi to brush her hair and braid it. “Thank you, dear.”
She perfumed herself and got back into bed feeling refreshed.
The door opened and Struan tiptoed in. “What’re you doing awake?” he asked.
“I wanted to see you back safe. Your bath’s ready. And breakfast. I’m very glad you’re back safe and sound!”
“I think I’ll turn in for a few hours. You go back to sleep, lassie, and we’ll have breakfast when I wake up. I’ve told Lim Din to let me sleep unless there’s something urgent.”
He kissed her briefly, a trifle embarrassed by Yin-hsi’s presence. May-may noticed this and smiled to herself. How curious barbarians were!
Struan nodded vaguely to Yin-hsi and left the room.
“Listen, dear Sister,” May-may said, when she was certain Struan was out of earshot. “Bathe with perfumed water, and when Father is heavily asleep go into his bed and sleep with him.”
“But, Supreme Lady, I’m sure that Father did not indicate in any way that he wanted me to go to him. I was watching very carefully. If I went uninvited, I—he might be very angry and send me away, and then I’d lose much face before you and before him.”
“You just have to understand barbarians are very different from us, Yin-hsi. They’ve no idea of face as we have. Now, do as I say. He’ll have a bath and go to bed. Wait an hour. Then join him. If he wakes up and orders you out, just be patient and say”—she changed to English —“ ‘Supreme Lady sent me.’ ”
Yin-hsi repeated the English words and memorized them.
“If that’s no use, come back here,” May-may continued. “No face is lost, I promise you. Don’t be afraid. I know a lot about Father and how he views face. We certainly can’t have him visiting those dirty whorehouses. The naughty man went straight to one of them last night.”
“No!” Yin-hsi said. “We have terribly lost face. Oh dear. I must disgust Father. Perhaps you’d better sell me to a gravedigger.”
“Huh!” May-may said. “I’d give him what-for if I was well. Don’t worry, Yin-hsi. He hasn’t even seen you yet. I keep telling you. He’s a barbarian. Disgusting to go to a whorehouse when you’re here, and even Ah Sam.”
“I quite agree. Oh, the bad man!”
“They’re all bad, dear,” May-may said. “I’m hoping that he’s so tired he won’t send you away as I expect him to. Just sleep in his bed. With Father, we have to work up to things. Even at his age he’s still very shy about love.”
“Does he know that I’m not a virgin?” Yin-hsi was caressing May-may’s head.
“He’s much too young yet to need virgins to excite him, dear Sister. And much too old to have the patience yet to teach a virgin in the ways of love again. Just say to him, ‘Supreme Lady sent me.’ ”
Yin-hsi repeated the English words again.
“You’re very pretty, Sister. Run along, now. Wait an hour, then go to him.” May-may closed her eyes and settled contentedly in the bed.