"We close in an hour. I live in the house," says she, looking at the table, and shot me a reproachful pout—my, she was a little stunner. "You do very wrong to compel me. If you were a gentleman …"
"I'd shop you like a worthy citizen. If you were a lady, you wouldn't hocus fellows into running guns. So we're well suited—and I ain't compelling you one bit; you're all for it." I gave her a wink and a squeeze. "Now, then, where can I spend the next hour? Got a billiard table, have you? Capital. Just pass me the word when you've got the dishes washed—oh, and see we have a couple of bottles, iced, upstairs, will you? Come on, goose—we'll have the jolliest time, you know!"
She gave her head a little toss, going pink, and glanced at me slantendicular. "And you promise faithfully not to tell … anything? Oh, if only I could be sure!"
"Well, you can't. Oh, come … why should I peach on a little darling like you, eh?" As we stood up, close together, I squeezed the satin unseen, and her mouth opened on a little gasp. "See? Two hours from now, you won't care."
I ambled down to the empty billiard room, in prime fettle, calling "Kya-hai!" and ordering up another bottle of bubbly. I tickled the pills until it arrived, and then wandered, glass in hand, to the verandah to look out into the tropic dark; it had started to rain with great force, as it does in Singapore, straight down in stair-rods, battering the leaves and gurgling in the monsoon ditch, bringing that heavy, earthy smell that is the East. I stood reflecting in great content: homeward bound, champagne, good Burma cheroot, and lissom little Phoebe under starter's orders. What more could a happy warrior ask? After the second glass I tried a few combination shots, but my eye wasn't in any longer, and after a while I left off, yawning and wishing impatiently that Phoebe would hurry the mateys along, beginning to feel sleepy as well as monstrous randy.
The door opened abruptly and a chap stuck his head in, rain glistening on his hat and cape. He gave me a cheery nod.
"Evenin', sport. Seen Joss about, have you?"
"Joss?"
"The guv'nor. You know, Carpenter. Or maybe you don't know. Ne'er mind, I daresay he's upstairs." He was withdrawing.
"Hold on! D'you mean … the Rev. Josiah Carpenter?"
"The one and only," says he, grinning. "Our esteemed proprietor."
I gaped at him. "Proprietor? You mean he owns this place? He's not … in Sumatra?"
"Well, he wasn't this afternoon. I say, are you all right?" "But Mrs Carpenter distinctly … told me …"
"Oh, she's about, is she? Good, I'll see her. Chin-chin."
The door slammed, leaving me standing bewildered—and angry. What was the little bitch playing at? She'd said … hold on … she had said … I turned sharply at a step on the verandah, lurching heavily against the table and catching hold to steady myself.
The big blond-bearded chap who'd been in the restaurant was standing in the open screen; he was wearing a pilot-cap now, and there seemed to be another fellow in a sou'wester, just behind him in the shadows … why was I so dizzy all of a sudden?
"Hollo," says the blond chap, and his glance went to the bottle and glass on the side-table. He grinned at me. "Enjoying your drink?"
[With words apparently failing their author for once, the eighth packet of the Flashman Papers ends here.]
APPENDIX I: The Taiping Rebellion
The Taiping Rebellion was the worst civil war in history, and the second bloodiest war of any kind, being exceeded in casual-ties only by the Second World War, with its estimated 60 million dead. How many died during the fourteen years of the Taiping Rising can only be guessed; the lowest estimate is 20 million, but 30 million is considered more probable (three times the total for the First World War). When it is remembered that the Taiping struggle was fought largely with small arms and only primitive artillery, some idea may be gained of the scale of the land fighting, with its attendant horrors of massacre and starvation. Again, the word "battle" nowadays is frequently applied to struggles lasting over months (Ypres, Stalingrad, etc). Using the more traditional sense of the term, which covers only days, it can be said that the bloodiest battle ever fought on earth was the Third Battle of Nanking in 1864, when in three days the dead exceeded a hundred thousand.
So far as his account goes, up to the summer of 1860, Flashman gives an accurate, if necessarily condensed version of the Taiping movement and its astonishing leader, the Cantonese clerk Hung Hsiu-chuan, who fell into a trance after failing his civil service examinations, saw visions of Heaven, and became inspired to overthrow the Manchus, cast the idols out of China, and establish the Taiping Tien-kwo, the Heavenly Dynasty of Perfect Peace, based on his own notions of Christianity. He is said to have been much influenced by a missionary tract, "Good Words to Admonish the Age".
That Hung was a leader of extraordinary magnetism is not to be doubted, and he was materially assisted by the corruption and decadence of Manchu government; China was ripe for revolution. At first his small movement concentrated on attacking idolatry, but with the persecution of the sect for heresy, magic, and conspiracy, his crusade developed into guerrilla warfare, and the first rising in Kwangsi in 1850 spread into other provinces. With able generals such as Loyal Prince Lee, the Taiping armies fought with increasing success; their organisation and discipline far outmatched the Imperials, and after the capture of Nanking in 1853 they threatened Pekin and controlled more than a third of China, establishing capitals in provinces which they had devastated. Flashman saw them when they were at their peak and might still have accomplished their revolution, but the seeds of defeat were already apparent. For all their zeal and military discipline, the Taipings were poor social organisers and administrators; their rule was oppressive and haphazard, and they failed to attract either foreign support (although their apparent Christianity gained them some European sympathy at first) or the Chinese middle and upper classes. They also suffered from internal feuds and the degeneration of the once inspirational Hung, who after 1853 went into almost complete seclusion with his women and mystical meditations. Strategically, the Taipings made the mistake of never securing a major port through which they might have made contact with the outside world, and failing to concentrate their thrust at Pekin, the seat of Imperial power.
After the events of 1860, their decline was rapid. Tseng Kuo-fan organised the Imperial reconquest, aided by the Ever-Victorious Army under Ward and Gordon, and after Hung's suicide by poison in June 1864, Nanking fell, and the greatest rebellion ever seen in the world was over; six hundred towns had been destroyed, whole provinces devastated, billions of pounds worth of property lost, and countless millions were dead, including all the rebel leaders. Loyal Prince Lee and Hung Jen-kan were both executed in 1864. Other notable Wangs were:
The East King (Tung Wang), Yang Hsiu-ching, a charcoal burner who became a shrewd and ruthless general; also known as God's Holy Ghost. He was murdered in 1856 by
The North King (Pei Wang), Wei Chiang-hui, pawnbroker, who in turn was executed with twenty thousand followers by the Heavenly King in 1856.
The West King (Si Wang), and the South King (Nan Wang) were both killed in action in 1852.
Apart from these early Wangs ("The Princes of the Four Quarters") the principal leaders included the young and formidable General Chen Yu-cheng, who with Lee raised the siege of Nanking, and died in 1862; the redoubtable Shih Ta-kai, also known as the Assistant King (I Wang), executed in 1863; Hung Jen-ta (Fu Wang), elder brother of the Heavenly King, executed 1864; the Ying Wang (Heroic King), executed 1862; and most pathetic of all, Tien Kuei, the Junior Lord (Hung Fu), son of the Heavenly King, executed by the Imperialists in 1864; he was fifteen.