The Palace of Heavenly Pleasure (68 page)

Fielding was first to the window, peering through the firing-hole they had bored through the shutters, followed as quickly as his crutches could take him by Tom. Fielding silently relinquished his place to Tom.

‘What is it, Fielding? What did you see?' asked Airton urgently.

‘It's all black out there, Doctor. Maybe some movement. I don't know.'

‘Quickly, Doctor, the door,' shouted Tom. ‘It's your nun, Caterina. She's running to the house.'

Nellie, Airton and Bowers ran into the hall, and for long moments struggled with the bars and bolts. Outside they could hear the thumping of fists on the wood and Caterina's frightened calls. When the door was open the white-cowled figure fell weeping into Nellie's arms. Hurriedly Bowers and Airton locked the door again. In the few moments that it had been open the doctor had seen running figures on the lawn, and his blood chilled. ‘Did you see, Bowers?' he whispered. ‘The costumes. The turbans.'

‘Aye,' said Bowers.

‘Good Lord, Tom was right. They're here.'

‘Aye,' said Bowers. ‘Did you also notice the flames, sir? I imagine they've fired the hospital.'

‘Oh, my God. Oh, my God.' Airton leaned against the wall. He saw two small figures at the end of the corridor, peering at him anxiously. ‘Get back to your bedroom. At once,' he shouted angrily—more angrily than he had intended—and Jenny and George disappeared like scuttling rabbits.

‘Oh, my God, my God,' he said.

‘Aye,' said Bowers. ‘Excuse me while I take my rifle, sir. I'll be covering the main bedroom,' he added.

In the living room Tom already had his rifle ready and was peering through the firing-hole. Fielding was nowhere to be seen. He had presumably taken his post in the dining room next door. Herr Fischer was administering a glass of brandy to Caterina, who was shaking in one of the armchairs. The drums thumped insistently outside.

‘Edward, I'm taking the children to the playroom with the Millwards,' said Nellie. ‘Perhaps you can bring Caterina along when she's had time to recover.' As she passed him she whispered, ‘Don't question her now. She's in a terrible state of shock. They burst in on her at the hospital and, Edward, they're killing the patients. There was nothing she could do.' She slipped away.

Airton clenched his fists. This could surely not be happening—but there was Caterina, her peasant face contorted into an ugly mask of fear, and Tom was pushing his rifle through the firing-hole, cocking the bolt. ‘Tom, what are you doing?' he cried.

‘They're massing on the lawn, Doctor. It's difficult to see, but some are holding torches. There must be a hundred at least. Can't see any guns. Most are carrying swords and spears. I'm going to fire a warning shot.'

‘My God, Tom, do you think that's wise?'

Tom ignored him. ‘Fielding,' he shouted. ‘I'm going to fire once. Into the air. Can you do the same?'

‘Sure thing,' came the answering call.

‘Bowers,' Tom yelled, ‘hold your fire.'

‘Aye,' came the distant answer.

The drum noise was suddenly extinguished by the two explosions and suddenly there was a smell of smoke in the air. The echoes died away and the pulsing sound of the drums resumed.

‘What do you see, Fielding?' Tom called.

‘They're staying, Tom. No, hold on … My God, some of them are beginning to dance.'

Airton felt an unreal sense of calm. This really was happening. Everything he had read about was true. ‘It's martial arts, Tom,' he said. ‘They're drawing down the powers of the gods into their own bodies. They think it makes them invulnerable to bullets.'

‘Do they now?' said Tom. ‘Fielding,' he shouted, ‘Bowers, we're going to let them dance a bit more, then we'll show them what being invulnerable to bullets means.'

‘You mean to fire on them, Tom? To kill them?'

‘Yes, Doctor.' Tom turned to face him. ‘They've set fire to the hospital and killed the patients. They'll do the same to us. What do you want to do? Negotiate with them?'

‘No, Tom,' said Airton, making his decision. ‘I believe that we have another rifle somewhere. Perhaps you can tell me where I would be most useful.'

‘Thank you, sir,' said Tom. ‘I was wrong to doubt you.' He clapped him on the back ‘You'd better defend the kitchen door. See how the servants are getting on, while you're about it. Don't want the cook panicking and letting the enemy in. When you hear me firing you fire too. Aim low.'

Airton was ashamed that he had forgotten the servants till now. Quickly he ran the length of the corridor. He found Ah Sun crouching under the big kitchen table and Ah Lee standing by the boarded-up door his chopper at the ready. A delighted expression filled the cook's face when he saw that the doctor was holding a rifle. ‘Oh, Master,' he said, ‘so you have joined the army of Jesus too! We will die together and go straight to Paradise.'

‘I hope we won't be doing that just yet,' said Airton, fitting a magazine to his rifle, and taking his position by the door.

It was the longest five minutes he had ever waited. Through the narrow firing-hole he saw the Boxers anticking on his lawn. He was surprised to find that he felt no hatred for them. If anything, they reminded him of the puppet displays of mythological heroes in the market, and the image of the fairground remained. He remembered the country shows of his youth. A part of him told him that when the time came it would be as easy to shoot at these mannikins as it had been to shoot coconuts off a stall. Another part of him saw the irony: here was a so-called man of God ready to inflict death on his fellow man—but then, almost to his own shame, another more pleasurable fantasy engaged him. How appropriate this was for a lover of western penny dreadfuls. He, Airton, the great romantic, had finally found his place behind the covered wagons of his imagination ready to defend his family against the redskins. The persistent thumping of the drums might have been Indian tom-toms.

Over the noise he heard a faint shout. It must be Tom giving the order to get ready. He squeezed his eyes to the sights, concentrating on a large figure in a tiger-skin costume brandishing an axe. His finger started its gentle pressure on the trigger. ‘Dear Lord, forgive me,' the silent words formed.

He heard running feet, and Caterina's screaming voice. ‘Hold fire, Doctor,' she cried. ‘Mr Cabot has told me to tell you to hold fire.'

He pulled back, startled. ‘But why, Caterina?'

‘It's Major Lin. He has come with his troopers.'

Merciful God, he thought, the US cavalry after all, and the next thing he heard was the welcome sound of horses on the lawn.

*   *   *

‘The Mandarin has promised you protection, and that will be given to you,' said Major Lin coldly. He was sitting astride his horse by the front door of the house. Behind him his troopers were fanned out keeping an eye on the Boxer braves who were now assembled in loose formations, watching in sinister silence. Airton, Fielding and Tom were standing on the porch holding tightly to their rifles. Out of the corner of his eye, Airton could make out Bowers's weapon protruding from his firing-hole. The whole scene was lit up garishly by the blaze of the hospital at the bottom of the hill. ‘On what surety do we have that?' he asked.

‘My surety,' said Lin. ‘There is no other.'

‘How can we believe you when your men allow these Boxers to remain armed after they have burned my hospital and killed my patients?'

‘How we deal with the Boxers is a Chinese matter. It is unfortunate about your hospital. No doubt one day you will be compensated for the loss of your property. Is compensation not what you foreigners usually demand?' Lin's tone was mocking. ‘As for the patients inside, I understand that they were Chinese. So that is also a Chinese matter and none of your concern.'

‘I had a responsibility for them,' expostulated Airton. ‘Those men butchered them.'

‘You are wasting my time, Doctor. I am offering protection only to foreigners—under the terms of the extraterritoriality treaty.' Again there was sarcasm in his tone. ‘Do you wish to hear my terms?'

‘Terms?' said Airton. ‘Go on.'

‘First, you will hand to me all the weapons you are holding in this house. My men will search the house to make sure that none are concealed. We do not want any accidents to occur to yourselves or others. You will not need weapons because my men will be protecting you.'

‘Go on.'

‘Second, the protection I offer applies only to the foreigners in the house. Any Chinese you are concealing here must leave. At once.'

‘Well, that's unacceptable. Is there any more?'

‘You will undertake to obey the law that has been imposed in this emergency, and therefore will stay in this building—which is being protected—until further notice.'

‘That's all?'

‘That's all. My men will bring you provisions on a weekly basis. You may use the well in the garden once a day under supervision of my soldiers.'

‘And if we do not accept your terms?'

‘Then you will be treated like malefactors and any infringement of our emergency laws will be punished.'

‘I see,' said Airton. ‘Well, your terms are not acceptable—and as you have noticed, we have guns and you have guns so it seems as if there is to be a stand-off. At least I can undertake that any attempts you make to enforce your so-called emergency laws will be costly to you. Thank you, Major Lin, but we prefer to protect ourselves.'

Lin raised his arm in a signal to his men. After a moment Airton and the others saw the Boxers by the gate step aside. ‘Oh, my God,' whispered Tom, ‘he's brought his old cannons from the walls.'

They watched in shocked silence as the string of mules drawing the heavy field guns were whipped and pulled up the slope.

‘I think that my guns are bigger than yours, Doctor,' said Major Lin. ‘Do you wish me to give you a demonstration?'

‘Checkmate,' muttered Fielding.

‘No, Fielding,' hissed the doctor. ‘He wants us to hand over Ah Lee and Ah Sun. We can't do that.'

‘We can't fight artillery.'

‘We'll have to. I will not … I will not … I cannot hand over my servants to be slaughtered. Let me talk to him. Major Lin,' he reverted to Chinese, ‘we agree to all your conditions except one. We will not hand over our Chinese servants to you.'

Major Lin made a pretence of yawning. ‘Then I withdraw my offer of protection,' he said. ‘Good evening.' He drew up his reins.

‘Listen, Major Lin. Please, I beg you. I have a memorial here, yes, here, you see.' With fumbling fingers he pulled from his jacket pocket the letter for the Mandarin. ‘Please. Please give this to the Mandarin and let us—let us for the moment leave this matter of the Chinese in our house until he has made a considered decision. All the other terms we agree to. Even the weapons, but please consider. In the name of humanity.'

Major Lin examined the envelope uninterestedly, then slid it into his saddlebag. ‘I already have my orders from the Mandarin,' he said.

‘I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll pay you for them. A ransom. Yes, a ransom. I have money. Here.' Airton fumbled for his pocketbook. With his other hand he grasped at Lin's bridle in a desperate attempt to keep him from going. Suddenly he heard a familiar voice behind him. ‘Master, please let us pass.' Ah Lee and Ah Sun were standing on the porch, bundles of possessions under their arms.

‘Ah Lee.' He had tried to put anger into his voice, but it cracked. ‘Get back into the house. That's an order. Ah Sun. Tell him.'

Ah Lee was smiling, although tears were running down his cheeks as they were also shining on Ah Sun's wrinkled features. ‘Master velly stubborn,' he said, in his pidgin English. ‘Think he velly good to poor Ah Lee and Ah Sun. But Master also velly mean man.' He shook his head comically. ‘Velly low wages. Scottishman, always mean. Ah Lee belong better job, better master. Maybe find cook job in Heaven hiyah? Makee bacon flied egg for Jesus. He velly good master. Ah Lee Ah Sun velly, velly happy belong Jesus.'

Ah Lee put down his bundle and embraced Airton. ‘Lemember ol' fliend sometime?' he said simply. ‘Better this way,' he added in Chinese. ‘Look after Missy Nellie and Master George and Miss Jenny,' he continued, in pidgin. ‘You have velly good children. Ah Sun and I, we think they like own glandchildren. Goodbye, dear Master.'

Ah Sun, sobbing, clasped Airton's hands. She was too moved to speak, as was the doctor, who stood indecisively as the two servants left him and made their way slowly towards the gate. ‘No,' he roared, attempting to run after them but Fielding held him and Major Lin moved his horse to block his way.

One of the Boxers stepped forward as the two old servants approached. With shock Airton recognised the features of his major-domo, Zhang Erhao, although he was now wearing a turban and full Boxer regalia. He made an elaborate bow to Ah Lee, as if welcoming him to their throng. Ah Lee spat in his face. The Boxer ranks closed round them and Airton could see them no more.

Lin's soldiers searched the house efficiently and gathered their weapons—there was only a minor disturbance when Nellie barred the door to Helen Frances's room and had to be pushed aside. Shortly afterwards the troop left, leaving sentries at the doors. The Boxers also dispersed, although the drumbeats thumped on into the night. The foreigners gathered in the Airtons' sitting room, sinking into the armchairs and sofas as if they wanted to hide from themselves. No one had anything to say. After a while Septimus Millward came into the room, followed by his wife and children. He surveyed the others quietly. ‘Gentlemen,' he said. ‘We're in the hands of the Lord. Don't you think that it's time for a prayer?' In his fine baritone he began to sing: ‘Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of Creation…'