If reasonable food were forthcoming, I am by no means sure that I should wish it ever to come to an end. There is a great deal to be said for suspended animation.’ He paused, staring at the bulkhead, and then he said, ‘I wonder if you know the author of the lines I have ventured to translate
When the bells justle in the tower
The hollow night amid
Then on my tongue the taste is sour
Of all I ever did.’
From Fox’s tone it was evident to Stephen that this was the preliminary to a confidence, a confidence prompted not by any high degree of friendship or esteem but by loneliness and a desire to talk. From the nature of the verse it was reasonably certain that the confidence would be of a somewhat scabrous nature, and Stephen did not wish to hear it. Restored to society, cares, activity and his usual environment, Fox would undoubtedly regret having made it; he would resent Stephen’s knowledge of his intimate life, and that would make working together in Pulo Prabang far more difficult. Collaboration and indifference might agree; collaboration and resentment could scarcely do so. He said, ‘I do not know the author. Can you remember the original?’
‘I am afraid not.’
‘It cannot be an ancient: the pagans, as far as my reading goes, were never much given to self-hatred or guilt about their sexual activities. That was reserved for Christians, with their particular sense of sin; and as “all I ever did” clearly refers to ill-doing, I must suppose it to be of a sexual nature, since a thief is not always stealing nor a murderer always murdering, whereas a man’s sexual instincts are with him all the time, day and night. Yet it is curious to see how the self-hater often succeeds in retaining his self-esteem in relation to others, usually by means of a general denigration: he sees himself as a worthless creature, but his fellows as more worthless still.’
As a check to unwanted confidences this was effective, but Stephen had added the last words in another spirit, following his own reflection, and the effect was too harsh by far. He saw with regret that he had wounded Fox, who, with an artificial smile, said, ‘Oh, I quite agree,’ and went on to a very proper speech of thanks for Dr Maturin’s great kindness in looking after him and for his great skill in curing a most disagreeable complaint. He was sorry to have been such an importunate nuisance.
‘Where is the moral advantage now?’ Stephen asked himself, walking along the half-deck to the companion-ladder. ‘Heavy stupidity, incomprehension would have been much better.’ He was just about to climb up it when a boy came hurtling down, took a great leap to avoid him, missed his footing and fell flat.
‘Are you quite well, Mr Reade?’ he asked, picking him up.
‘Quite well, sir, thank you. I beg pardon for tumbling about, but the Captain sent me to tell you we have sighted Java Head. Java Head, sir! Ain’t it prime?’
Chapter 6
It was quite true: within two days of being immersed in eastern ways, climate, food, languages, faces, expressions, and forms of civility Fox was a different man, a more agreeable one.
While the Diane was refilling all her water-casks except for half a dozen in the ground-tier at Anjer, and taking in wood, stores, livestock, arrack and tobacco, together with river-water to wash the salt out of their harsh and rasping clothes at last, he took Jack
and Stephen to Buitenzorg, the country residence, and presented them to the Governor, Stamford Raffles.
Fox was proud of Raffles, and understandably so; he was a singularly accomplished and amiable man, and they both found their opinion of Fox change when they saw how the Governor valued him. Raffles at once invited them to stay, lamented the numerous dinner-party to which they were necessarily condemned that afternoon, but promised that they should sup in private and perhaps between the two meals Dr Maturin might like to see a little of his garden and his collections. ‘For if I do not mistake, sir, you are the gentleman to whom we owe Testudo aubreii And, good Heavens now I come to reflect perhaps the Captain is that glorious reptile s godfather? What a delight to have two such famous names under our roof at the same times Olivia, my dear But before Mrs Raffles could be made aware of her happiness urgent official messages came in, requiring the Governor s attention before dinner, and the visitors were taken to their rooms The dinner was indeed a very grand affair, the guests seated with exact regard to precedence, for the Javanese and Malays, of whom there were several present, were even more particular about rank than the Europeans The Sultan of Suakarta was on the Governor’s right, then came two major-generals, then Jack, the senior naval officer present, and a long way farther down Stephen sat between the captain of a recently-arrived East Indiaman and a civil servant. Fox was at the other end, on Mrs Raffles’ right. Stephen’s neighbours had been talking eagerly as they came in, and now, as they sat down, the civil servant on Stephen’s right said to him, ‘I was just telling my cousin here that he must not worry about the news from London. These things are always exaggerated by distance, do you not agree, sir?’
‘Certainly truth is hard to come by, near or far,’ said Stephen. ‘But what is the gentleman not to worry about? Is it said that London is burnt again, or the plague broken out? And surely he would have noticed these things before leaving – he would have brought the news himself.’
‘Why, sir,’ said the sailor, ‘the people here are all talking about the great losses on the Stock Exchange, the Funds falling to pieces and banks breaking right, left and centre, particularly country banks. It is all since I left Blackwall.’
‘It may seem curious to you, Doctor,’ said the civil servant, ‘that we should have had the news before the Indiaman’s arrival; but such is the case, for the Company sometimes has overland messengers travelling down at a great pace across the Arabian desert and Persia. The latest word is not three months old. But as it always happens, the latest word is much deformed by rumour. Rumour loves to make its hearers’ flesh creep, and as soon as the Stock Exchange sinks a little rumour swears the bottom of the market has fallen out; yet it takes an even greater delight in breaking banks. In my time I have seen all the great houses brought down, Coutts, Drummonds, Hoares, the whole shooting match.
Believe me, Humphrey, there is nothing in it; and I speak as the Governor’s financial adviser.’
When they were drinking coffee in the long, cool, shadowy drawing-room, Jack came over and said in an undertone, ‘By God, Stephen, how I hope you did not take my advice about money. I have just heard two damned unpleasant things: the first is about the City, and about a run on the banks. It seems
that many have stopped payment, and that many country houses are broke: Smith’s was particularly named. The second is that the French have already reached Pulo Prabang; they are there first, in spite of all our efforts.’
Before Stephen could reply his left-hand neighbour at dinner came to say goodbye, and on seeing Jack he claimed acquaintance; he had been aboard one of the Indiamen in whose company Captain Aubrey, commanding the Surprise even then, had engaged a French line-of-battle ship and a corvette and had obliged them to withdraw. By the time he had finished fighting the battle over again the room was almost empty, and the Governor claimed Dr Maturin. ‘It is rare,’ he said, ‘to have anyone who will look at my collections as anything but a raree-show.’
‘Banks would enjoy this beyond anything,’ said Stephen, stopping before an astonishing group of orchids growing from trees, crevices, baskets or the ground itself. ‘He is very much more of a botanist than I. He showed me some of your drawings of the vanilla . .
‘There is the very plant. A friend sent me a root from Mexico, and I hope to naturalize it. The insignificant green thing in a hanging raft.’ Raffles broke off a piece of seed-pod and gave it to Stephen, who bowed, smelt to it, and continued ‘. . . with the utmost appreciation, and yet with a certain regret. He saw so little when he was here in the Endeavour.’
‘I am afraid he must have been in a sad way; but even if he had been able to get about, he would have had to go very far to acquire anything like a true notion of the flora.
There was nothing worth calling a botanical garden in those days. The Dutch looked upon the island with a commercial rather than a philosophical eye.’