Yes, but not so different. Culum stood up to you over the knoll. And stood by you against Brock. And shook hands with Gordon Chen in front of you. And eloped with the girl, damning the consequences. And saved Glessing’s life. The spark’s there.
Remember what you said when you regained consciousness? “I dinna ken who you are, but thanks for giving me back my face.”
You’d never lost it, Dirk, my friend.
“Aye. But give my son back his.”
Isn’t that what you’d say if you were here? Are you here? I miss you, laddie.
Aristotle Quance put away his own sadness and sat on the step beside Culum. “I know this isn’t the time to bring it up, Tai-Pan, but could you lend me four hundred and fifty guineas?”
“What? What did you say?”
“Could you lend me four hundred and fifty guineas, Tai-Pan? I know it’s a terrible moment, but that old witch Fortheringill’s alive—no typhoon’d dare touch her, by God! She’s threatening to put me in debtor’s prison. I’ve no one to turn to but you.”
“You said Tai-Pan. You called me
Tai-Pan.”
“Well, you are, aren’t you?”
Then Culum remembered what his father had said. About the joy and the hurt of being Tai-Pan; about being a man; about standing alone; about life and the battle thereof.
His loneliness vanished. He looked at the three men below. His anxiety returned. Simple enough for Aristotle to say “Tai-Pan,” he thought. But what about them? You’ve got to win them to your side. How? What was it Father said? “You rule men by your brain and by magic.”
He stood up shakily. “I—I’ll try. By the Lord God, I’ll really try. I’ll never forget you, Aristotle. Never.”
He walked down the hill, his stomach fluttering uneasily. The master-at-arms was approaching from the cutter and they met at the front door.
“His Excellency wants you aboard right smartly.”
“Please tell him I’ll see him as soon as possible,” Culum said with a calmness he did not feel.
“He wants you now.”
“I’m busy. Tell him I’m busy!”
The man reddened, saluted, then stamped away.
What’s in those papers, anyway? Culum asked himself. He gathered his will and faced Orlov, Vargas and Gordon Chen.
“Brock sent
orders aboard my ship,” Orlov said. He saw the bloodstains on Culum’s hands and sleeves and shuddered. “Orders to lower the flag, by Odin! I’d’ve done it anyway as soon as I heard. Do I take orders from him now? Eh?”
“Brock will destroy us, Mr. Culum. What are we going to do?” Vargas said, wringing his hands.
“Vargas, go and make arrangements for the funeral. My father and his lady will be buried together.”
“What?”
“Yes. Together. She’s a Christian and will be buried with him. Gordon, wait for me. I want to talk to you. Orlov, go aboard your ship and raise the flag. Fly it at the masthead. Then go aboard
White Witch and fetch my wife ashore.”
“
Fetch her, did you say?”
“Yes. And here.” He took out the twenty sovereigns. “Give these to Brock with my compliments. Tell him I said to buy himself a coffin.”
The three men looked at Culum strangely.
Then they said, “Yes, Tai-Pan,” and obeyed.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
I would like to express my thanks to the people of Hong Kong who gave me so much of their time and knowledge and allowed me into their present and past. Of course, this is not a history but a novel. It is peopled with men and women created out of the author’s imagination, and no reference to anyone, or to any company, that was—or is—part of Hong Kong is intended.