“The fleet’s safe, by all that’s holy!” Struan said exultantly. “The ships are safe. They’re safe.” Abruptly his joy vanished and he slammed the shutters and windows and bolted them.
“Come on,” he said urgently, flinging the door open, and they followed, astonished. He ran the length of the corridor across the landing into the opposite wing of the building and opened the door of the northmost suite.
The shutters were partially broken and one window was smashed and glass was everywhere.
“Stay here,” he said.
“Wat’s the matter, Tai-Pan? The storm’s gone.”
“Do as I say.” He hurried out. May-may shrugged and sat on a broken chair.
“What’s the matter with Father?” Yin-hsi asked.
“I don’t know. I really don’t understand him sometimes. Thank heaven the noise is finished. Isn’t it quiet? It’s so quiet it almost hurts.”
Yin-hsi went over to a window and opened it. “Oh, look!” she said. “Isn’t it beautiful? I’m so glad the storm’s gone.”
May-may and Ah Sam crowded around her.
Brock was standing on deck, paralyzed. He saw waves coming at him from all directions, but here in the lee of the shore the waves were small. The sun was warm and dry. Water dripped loudly. The encircling thunderclouds were like the walls of a mighty cathedral, five miles wide. But the walls were moving. The eastern quadrant was closing on them.
“What be happening, luv?” Liza said, coming on deck with Lillibet. “Oh, how beautiful!”
“Oh, it’s so pretty,” Lillibet said.
“We be in’t eye of storm. In’t vortex!” Brock burst out. Seamen coming on deck turned and looked at him.
“Oh, look!” Lillibet said. She pointed to the island. “Isn’t that funny!”
The trees that dotted the island were white against the brown earth; their limbs had been stripped clean of leaves. New Queen’s Town had almost vanished and Tai Ping Shan was a shambles. Tiny figures were beginning to move over the foreshore.
“Get thee below,” Brock said, his voice grating.
Bewildered, they did as he ordered.
“Cap’n Pennyworth!”
“Yes, sir?”
“Best make peace with thy Maker,” Brock said. “Only He knowed wot be t’other side of them devil clouds. Get thee all below!”
He picked up his telescope and trained it on the residence of The Noble House. He could see Struan standing in the midst of a group outside the front door. There were a few heads peeking out of third-story windows.
He snapped the telescope closed. “Best get thee inside, Dirk,” he said quietly.
He jammed the remnants of the gangway hatch into place and battened it down as best he could and went below.
“I thinks we be sayin’ prayers,” he said breezily.
“Oh good,” Lillibet said. “Can I say mine first? Like at bedtime?”
Culum had his arm around Tess.
“If we get out alive, I’m damned if I’m staying here,” he said. “We’re off home, and to the devil with this place.”
“Yes,” Tess said, sickened by the destruction. She looked in terror at the gradually approaching cloud screen. It swallowed Kowloon Peninsula. “We’d better get inside,” she said.
Culum closed the door after her, and the pain from his burned hands was excruciating. But he bolted the door.
She picked her way over the debris, and knelt beside Glessing. His face was cadaverous but his heart was beating. “Poor George.”
Struan was gauging the distance from the wharf to
China Cloud and to the eastmost thunderclouds. He knew there was no time to get a cutter, so he ran down to the end of the wharf and cupped his hands.
“Orlov!” he roared. “Ahoy,
China Cloud!” His voice echoed eerily over the Happy Valley harbor, and he saw Orlov wave to him and heard him call back faintly, “Aye?”
“Point her south! The winds’ll come from the south now! Head her south!”
“Aye,” he heard Orlov answer, and in a moment he saw seamen scurrying forward, and a cutter was over the side and the men began to pull feverishly and shove the bow around.
Struan hurried back to the group of men at the front door.
“Get inside!”
Some of them moved, but the young lieutenant still stared at his lorcha and at the harbor with disbelief. “Great God on high, she’s still afloat! And look at the fleet—look at the ships! I thought they’d all be blown to hell by now, but only one frigate’s aground, and that clipper’s lost its masts. Incredible, by God! South, did you say? Why?”
“Come on,” Struan said, tugging his arm. “Get inside—and get your men inside.”
“What’s the matter?”
“For God’s sake, we’ll be out of the vortex in a few minutes. And then the gale’ll reverse—I think it’ll reverse and blow from the south. Get your men—”
He was almost bowled over as Horatio rushed past and bolted up Queen’s Road toward the dockyard.
“Come back, you fool, you’ll be killed!” Struan shouted, but Horatio paid no attention. Struan chased after him.
“Horatio! What the devil’s the matter with you?” he said, catching up with him and grabbing him by the shoulders.
“I’ve got to tell Glessing. Finish all this marriage filth,” Horatio screamed. “Get away from me—murderer! You and your filthy murdering whore! I’ll see you both hanged!” He tore himself loose and rushed away.
Struan charged after him again, but rain began spattering and he stopped. The thundercloud wall was already halfway across the harbor, the sea boiling at its feet. He saw the cutter’s crew scramble aboard
China Cloud and vanish below decks. Orlov waved a final time, then he too was gone.
Struan turned and raced for the shelter of the residence. A gust clawed at him and he redoubled his efforts. He gained the threshold in driving downpour and looked back.
Horatio was running out of Happy Valley along the shore. The cloud wall covered the dockyard and Horatio began to disappear into the mist. Struan saw him stop and look up, and then the tiny figure was wafted away like a leaf.
Struan hurled the door open and shoved it closed, but before he could bar it, darkness came and a Supreme Wind burst in and tossed him deep into the foyer. It blew out all the ground-floor windows and killed three seamen. And was gone.
Struan picked himself up, astonished that he was still alive. He rushed the door, and with all his huge strength closed and barred it. The maelstrom passed the windows, sucking debris and papers and lanterns out of the residence—everything that was not nailed down.
As Struan ran for the stairs, he came across the crushed body of the young lieutenant. He stopped, but another gust drove him back and snatched the body away, and then Struan was fighting out of the suction up the stairs to safety.
As the gale hit from the south, the
White Witch pitched drunkenly. She heeled on her beam ends and swung on the fore hawsers, by some miracle righted herself, and, trembling, pointed into the wind. Brock picked up Lillibet and Liza and put them back in the bunk. He shouted encouragement, but they could not hear, and all of them held on desperately for their lives.
Water sluiced down the gangway and began crashing against the barred cabin door, seeping under it. A Devil Wind slammed into the ship. There was a thundercrack and the ship shuddered, and Brock knew that an anchor hawser had parted.