China by Edward Rutherfurd (historical books to read TXT) 📕

“We need patience,” Trader ventured.

“We need tea,” Tully growled. He was silent for a moment. “You saw a letter came aboard for me this morning? It was from my father in London.” He took the letter out of his pocket. “You’d better read it.”

Ebenezer Odstock’s handwriting was still bold, but it seemed that old age was beginning to take its toll.

“I am sorry his teeth are so bad,” said Trader. Tully greeted this with a snort. “And his leg: He says he can hardly get into the office, even with a stick.” Another snort. Trader started reading aloud. “ ‘And I fear my brain is becoming dull.’ ”

“The old devil,” said Tully.

“ ‘Given the uncertainty of the China trade at present,’ ” Trader continued to read, “ ‘it is anticipated that tea will be in short supply, and the price may rise very high. I should be grateful, my dear son, if you would send me all the tea you can, at your earliest convenience.’ ”

“And I can’t,” Tully almost wailed. It seemed strange to Trader that the gruff middle-aged merchant should still be so afraid of his father. “The spring harvest from the backcountry, the best damn crop, is coming into Canton as we speak. Joker will sell me as much as I can take. I can pay in silver. I’ve even got a vessel I could use. But I can’t get upriver because I’m not allowed to sign Lin’s bond.”

“We can’t contract with an American merchant?”

“I’ve tried. All committed. All loaded to the gills with cotton to sell, and they’ll come out with tea. And none of it for me.”

“I suppose we couldn’t just sign Lin’s damned bond, could we? Promise not to carry opium? I mean, not just at the moment, of course.”

Tully shook his head. “I don’t like Elliot, but he’s right about one thing. Got to stick together. We’ve told Lin that no British merchant can sign any bond that places him under Chinese law. Can’t be done. But if so much as one us breaks ranks…Case falls to the ground. Not a leg to stand on. And once we submit to Chinese law, we’re under their thumb forever. Any Chinese judge can torture and hang us at will.” He shook his head glumly. “Nothing for it. I’ll have to tell the old man I can’t get him any tea.”

“I’m sure he’ll understand,” Trader offered.

“You don’t know him.”

“I think,” said Trader after a brief pause, “that I may have an idea.”

—

The little ship, having no cargo, rode high in the water as it emerged the next morning from under the shadow of the soaring Peak of Hong Kong and headed across the gulf.

Halfway across, Trader saw a Chinese war junk in the distance; an hour later a dragon boat appeared. But neither approached his little ship. As he gazed across the waters towards the hills of Macao, he wondered: Was he going to see Marissa again?

He remembered the vague awkwardness in his manner when he’d parted from her—a lover who made no promise to return. Perhaps she had another man by now. But if she hadn’t? Memories came back: the texture of her skin, her hair in his hands, the smell of her. How would it be if they met again? What would happen?

Before noon, he could see the empty facade of the cathedral, high on top of the hill, gleaming in the sun. He’d have to go up there anyway, to find Read, assuming the American was still on the island—which he surely must be. His kindly friend wouldn’t have vanished over the horizon without letting him know.

By the time they anchored in the Macao Roads, a jolly boat was already on its way to greet them. In less than half an hour Trader was on the quay and about to walk up the hill when, to his surprise, he saw the burly American not fifty yards away.

“Why, it’s young Trader.” Read came towards him, hand outstretched. “What brings you here, my friend?”

“I came to see you. I was just going up to Mrs. Willems’s house.”

“Ah.” Did a tiny shadow pass across Read’s face? If so, it was dispelled almost instantly by a big grin. “Well, you already found me.”

“Is Mrs. Willems well?”

“She is.”

“And Marissa?”

“Not on the island just now. She went away to see her family.”

—

They sat together in a Portuguese taverna while Trader explained what he needed.

“So you want me to act as an American merchant, take over your contracts with this Chinese merchant you call Joker, ship the tea out of Whampoa in that vessel out in the Roads, and bring it to Hong Kong? For which Odstocks will pay me.”

“Generously.”

“You supply the ship, pay for all the goods.”

“Correct.”

Read took a pull on his cigar. “The fact is,” he said, “I could do with a little action.” He grinned. “Macao’s a good place. But I was getting a little bored.”

“You should do it, then,” Trader encouraged.

“I could get papers from the governor here, to say I’m a bona fide American merchant. That wouldn’t be a problem. I did him a favor the other day. We’d need to fly an American flag, of course. Maybe change the ship’s name.” He considered. “Yankee Lady. How’s that? You got a crew and skipper?”

“A good Chinese crew. The mate can handle the ship. And he knows the waters.”

Read shook his head. “You need a skipper. But don’t worry. I’ve got one for you.”

“Where?”

“Right here, looking at you.”

“You’ve actually been a ship’s captain?”

“Many times. Pay me the going rate as skipper, in addition to the rest, and you have a deal.”

“Agreed.”

“Let’s get those papers from the governor right away, then.”

—

The governor’s offices were on the Praia Grande. It felt good to be walking along the handsome curve of the great esplanade again. Trader half expected Tully Odstock to appear on his afternoon constitutional along the seafront.

When they got to the Portuguese governor’s office, Read explained his mission to an assistant, who ushered them into a waiting room. But they