The pavilion was in the throes of a flitting. The halls and passage-ways were cluttered with luggage, servants were staggering out under boxes and bundles, eunuchs fussed everywhere, maids were fluttering in silken confusion, and a stalwart young Manchoo Guards officer was barking orders and cuffing heads in an effort to bring them to order (I recognised the peremptory voice from the garden; although I didn't know it yet, this was Jung Lu, Yehonala's old flame and now Imperial Guards commander). Only in the ivory saloon was there comparative peace, with Yehonala looking uncommon fetching in a magnificent snow-leopard robe with a gigantic collar, sitting at ease while Little An fussed about her, and half a dozen of her ladies waited in a respectful semi-circle at the far end, all dressed for the road. She indicated that I should stand by her table, and the Mongol fell in beside me, breathing garlic.
"Why don't they come?" Little An was squeaking; his face was bright with sweat. "If their soldiers are north of the city, we may be cut off here! How could we escape their devil-cavalry, who speed like flying dragons? Should we not send another messenger, Orchid? What can be keeping them?"
Yehonala stifled a yawn. "The Empress Dowager will have mislaid her eyebrow tweezers. Stop fussing, Little An—the barbarians are intent on Pekin; they won't come here. Even if they did, Jung Lu has men on the road to bring word."
Little An glanced round as though he expected to see Elgin climbing in the window, and stooped to whisper. "And if Sang should come? Have you thought of that? We know who he's after, don't we? Suppose he were to come with riders—what case are we in to resist him, with only a handful of Guards?"
"Sang has enough to do with the barbarians, fool! Besides, he wouldn't dare lay hands on the Empress … or on him." But I saw the silver nails were drumming gently on the arm of her chair.
"You think there's anything that madman would not dare?" An shrilled. "I tell you, Orchid Lady—the barbarians can have Pekin for him, so long as he can get his claws on —"
"That will do, Eunuch An-te-hai." The lovely voice had a dangerous edge. "You're alarming my ladies, which is bad for their digestions. Another word, and you'll stand on that table and repeat a hundred times: `I beg the ladies' pardon for my unmannerly cowardice, and humbly entreat the Empress of the Western Palace to sentence me to a hundred lashes on my fat little bottom'. And she'll do it, too."
That sent her ladies into great giggles, and Little An fell sullenly silent. The noises of exodus were dying away in the pavilion; a door slammed, and then there was silence. I strained my ears—if our fellows were north of the city they couldn't be more than five miles away. Yehonala was right; they wouldn't bother with the Summer Palace until Pekin was secure, but if I could make a break, perhaps when we set off … it would be dark …
Brisk footsteps sounded, and the young Guards Commander strode in, halting smartly and bowing his pagoda helmet to his waist. "The Prince Kung and the Lady Dowager have decided to remain, Concubine Yi, but the others will be here in a few minutes."
"What can have happened to those tweezers?" says Yehonala. "And probably the sleeping pantaloons, too. Ah, well. Are the litters ready, Colonel Jung?"
"Three horse palanquins in the court, Orchid, with the carriage for your ladies." He was breathing hard. "I've sent the servants' carts ahead, so that they won't delay us, and had all the gates locked. It will be necessary to reach the court by the garden passage —" he pointed to the narrow arch at the far end of the room, where the ladies stood "- and from the court the Avenue of Dawn Enchantment is walled as far as the Jehol road, where I have a troop waiting." He paused for breath, and Little An cried:
"Why these precautions? Are the barbarians so close?"
Jung ignored him, speaking direct to Yehonala. He was a good-looking lad, in a dense, resolute sort of way; Guards officers much the same the world over, I suppose.
"Not the barbarians, Orchid … no. My rider at the Anting Gate has not reported. But it would be best to leave quickly, as soon as the Empress arrives. There may be … some danger in delay."
Little An absolutely farted in agitation and was beginning to squeal, but Yehonala cut in. "Be quiet! What is it, Jung?"
"Perhaps nothing." He hesitated. "I stationed my sergeant on the Pekin road, half-way. His horse came in just now—without a rider." There was silence for a moment, then:
"Sang!" shrills Little An. "I knew it! What did I say? Lady, there is no time to lose! We must go at once! We must—"
"Without my son?" She was on her feet. "Jung—go and meet them. Bring them yourself—bring them, Jung, you understand?"
He saluted and strode out, and Yehonala turned to the palpitating An and said quietly: "Every shadow is not Prince Sang, Little An. Even sergeants fall off their horses sometimes. No, be silent. Whatever has happened, your bleatings will do nothing to help." She adjusted her fur collar. "It's cold. Lady Willow, have them put the screen' across the window."
As her woman pattered to obey, she paced the floor slowly, humming to herself. Outside the sound of Jung's hoof-beats had faded, and we waited in the stillness, the air heavy with suspense. She may have found it cold, but I was sweating—whatever the possible danger, I reckoned Jung was a good judge, and he'd been a sight more worried than he let on. Little An was visibly bursting with silent terrors, in which Sang presumably had the lead role. Well, that was one I could do without … if he bowled in, I could see a pretty little scene ensuing when he recognised one of his star prisoners. Suppose I broke for it now … a bolt for the door, downstairs and into the garden … ? My skin roughened at the thought … the Mongol was at my elbow, stinking to high heaven, never taking his eyes off me -
"Ho-hum, cheer up, Little An," says Yehonala, pausing in her walk, and prodding him playfully in the stomach. "You need some exercise, my lad. I know—where's my cup and ball?"
It was lying on the table beside me, a priceless little toy of solid gold stem with a jade cup, and a gold chain attaching to the ball, which was a black pearl. She was expert in its use, but Little An was a hopeless duffer, and it was a standing joke with her to make him sweat away at it, fumbling and squealing, while her ladies went into fits.
I picked it up and handed it to her.
Very well, I was off-guard, preoccupied with the thought of bolting for safety, and my action was purely automatic—so much so, that she had actually taken it, with a little smile at me, and it was only the horrified realisation dawning on my own face that made her stare. Without that, my blunder might have passed unnoticed, or I might have bluffed it out … but now her eyes were blazing, Little An was shrieking—and I lunged headlong for the door, slipped on a rug on the polished floor, and came down with a crash that shook the building. The Mongol was on me before I could roll away, snarling like a bear, his great hands reaching for my throat; I thumped him once, and then like a clever lad he had his knife-point under my chin, climbing off me nimbly and bringing me up like a hooked fish, his free hand locked in my collar. He shot a glance at Yehonala, and asked for instructions.
"Kill him! Kill him!" squealed Little An. "He's a spy—a barbarian spy!" A brilliant thought struck him. "Gods! He was Sang's prisoner! He's a spy of Sang's! He —"
"Put him yonder," says Yehonala, and the Mongol thrust me down in her chair, taking his stand behind it with his knife prodding the angle of my neck and shoulder—it beats handcuffs any day.
"Why?" yelps Little An. "Kill him now! Aiee, Orchid, why do you hesitate? He has heard all—he knows! He must die at once, before the Empress comes! Please, Orchid! Kill him—quickly!"