On one of the horns of this immense harbour-wall stood a fort: ancient, perhaps Portuguese, obviously deserted. Jack fixed it with his telescope, saw grass growing in the empty embrasures, and shifted his glass to the farther side, where something not unlike a castle stood apart from the houses, commanding the approach to the shore, a shore lined
deep with craft of various kinds and one that reminded him of Shelmerston, though the strand was black, the vessels often
masted with tripods of bamboo, their sails made of matting; perhaps the common quality was a certain piratical air.
‘By the mark ten.’
The water was shoaling gradually, and from the slight surf on the outer wall it was clear that the tide was making. Jack considered the rest of the harbour – a certain amount of activity among the fishing-boats and one of the big proas being careened
– and the town – a mosque; another mosque; some houses built on piles along the river; a massive formless affair that must be the Sultan’s palace.
‘By the deep, nine. And a half, nine. By the deep, nine.’
Houses in large gardens or compounds round the town. Green fields beyond, some bright green: rice paddies, no doubt: all the flat ground cultivated: rising forest beyond.
He focussed his glass on the entrance to the harbour, a hundred yards wide, nodded, glanced at the boats, ready to be hoisted out, at the best bower a-cockbill, at Mr White with his guns; and turning to the master he said, ‘The middle of the channel, Mr Warren, and round-to at eight fathom or a cable’s length inside, whichever comes first.’
They came almost together. The Diane rounded to, dropped her anchor, broke out her colours, and began her salute. Ordinarily in the unknown port of an unknown island Jack would have sent ashore to make certain that the salute would be returned gun for gun, the Royal Navy being very particular about its compliments; but Fox had assured him that the Sultan and his people laid great store by good manners and would never be found wanting in a matter of formal politeness. Even so, the prompt reply, well-spaced and correct in number, was a relief to him; so was the fact that the answering guns were little more than swivels. In case of disagreement it would not be pleasant to lie within range of a battery of eighteen-pounders.
With the last gun a canoe put off from the shore, a highprowed tiger-headed canoe with an outrigger and a deck-house in the middle; it was paddled by twenty men and it obviously carried an important person.
‘Mr Fielding,’ said Jack,
‘sideboys and manropes. But no
piping the side, no Marines, I think.’ He looked across at Fox, who nodded.
The canoe ranged neatly along; the important person, a slim brown man with a speckled orange-tawny turban and a kris tucked into his sarong, came aboard in a seamanlike manner and bowed gravely to those on the quarterdeck, putting his hand quickly to his forehead and his heart. At the same time the canoe-men raised some baskets of fruit on hooked poles to the hands on the gangway. Fox stepped forward, welcomed him in Malay, thanked him for the presents, and presented him to Jack, saying,
‘This is Wan Da, sent by the Vizier. We should drink coffee with him in the cabin.’
The coffee-drinking went on and on. From time to time word came out, borne by Killick or Ali, once to lower down the launch, once to warn the gentlemen of the suite to stand by to go ashore, once to the mate of the hold to rouse their baggage up on deck;
and during this time Ahmed, Yusuf and those Dianes who had any word of Malay conversed with the canoe-men through the gun-ports in the waist. At one point Killick darted up, seized the baskets with an angry suspicious glance all round, and disappeared again. Hope faded; the eager talk along the rail died away. But at six bells the word was passed for Mr Welby, and the large cutter was ordered over the larboard side, where it was filled with baggage, servants, five Marines and a corporal And after another fifteen minutes Wan Da, Mr Fox and the Captain came out: Wan Da went down into the canoe and pulled off a little, while the launch advanced for the envoy and his suite. As the three boats pulled away for the shore the envoy’s thirteen guns boomed out again; and when the triple echo of the last had died away Jack turned to Stephen and said, ‘Well, and so we have delivered him at last. There were times when I thought we should never do it.’
Stephen, who could perfectly well see that Fox had been, or was just about to be set down on Pulo Prabang, frowned and replied, ‘Would there be any of that coffee left, at all? I have been smelling it this last age, and never a sip sent out.’
‘It appears,’ said Jack as he led the way to the cabin, ‘that
we were expected, and the Vizier has set apart a fair-sized house in its own compound for the mission east of the river. The French have one on the other side. The Sultan will be back at the change of the moon, and then we shall both have our audience together.’
‘When does the moon change?’ asked Stephen.
Jack looked at him: even after so many proofs to the contrary it was hard to believe that a man could remain ignorant of these fundamental things; but such was the case, and he said, not unkindly, ‘In five days’ time, brother.’
As Shao Yen had told him, Lin Liang’s house was comparatively small and inconspicuous.
It faced on to a dusty lane that led from the street running along the east bank of the river and with its shabby warehouses it backed on to the outer edge of the town, not far from Fox’s compound. The shop in front was crowded with goods, blue and white china, huge rice-jars, bales of blue cotton cloth, barrels, strings of dried squid and dark unidentifiable creatures hanging from the beams, but even so it looked run-down and poor. A Malay woman was buying a pennyweight of betel, lime and turmeric, and towards the back of the shop, idly fingering ginseng and shark’s fins, stood Edwards and Macmillan, attended by Fox’s younger servant Yusuf. When the woman was gone they pressed Dr Maturin to take their turn – they were in no sort of a hurry – but although Stephen saw that they were moved by something more than good manners he would have none of it. He stood in the doorway watching the sparse traffic while they changed some money with Yusuf’s help and then murmured their enquiries; Yusuf was less discreet and his translation came shrill and clear: ‘Two of these pieces for a short time; five for all night.’
When they had gone Stephen also changed a guinea and then said he would like to see Lin Liang. Calling another youth to keep the shop, the young man led him behind the two counters, through a store-room, out into a court between the warehouses and so to an enclosed garden with a stone lantern
and a single willow-tree: in the far corner there was a gardenhouse with a round door, as round as a full moon, and in it stood Lin Liang, bowing repeatedly. He advanced to meet Stephen half way, conducted him to the little house and sat him on a broad, outstandingly beautiful great chair made of Soochow lacquer, obviously brought for the purpose. He
called for tea and port wine and cakes, which were carried in by a shabby one-eyed eunuch; and after perhaps a quarter of a pint of tea – Dr Maturin’s liver, alas, would not allow port wine, though he was most sensible of the attention – Lin Liang said apologetically that he had not yet been able to bring together all the money named in the esteemed Shao Yen’s note, even with the help of his colleague on the other side of the river, the respectable Wu Han. But Wu Han was calling in an important debt, and within a week the sum would be made up. Meanwhile Lin Liang had so arranged the available funds that he had an eighth part in pagodas, and three quarters in rix-dollars and taels, silver being much more current than gold in these regions, at Dr Maturin’s disposal; and this, he said, shooting the balls of an abacus to and fro with extraordinary speed, represented certain proportions of the sequins, ducats, guineas, louis d’or and johannes deposited with Shao Yen. The numbers flowed past Stephen’s ears, but he looked attentive, and when the calculation was done he said, ‘Very good. I may make some considerable transfers quite soon, transfers that must remain confidential. Does Wu Han understand the importance of that? For I collect that he is associated with you in this undertaking.’