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‘How on earth?’

‘I told him that I had kept all your letters and in the event of my death they would be found among my effects — in other words, that you would be ruined. This had a rather touching effect — you could even say that it was a tribute to his attachment to you.’

Mrs Burnham brushed a hand across her eyes. ‘Why? What happened?’

‘Oh, the bluster leaked out of him like air from a puffed-up bladder. He was evidently quite stricken at the thought that you might suffer harm. I saw then that it would be easy to take him in hand. I told him that it was in order to protect you that he should accept my offer; that he should think of it as a small sacrifice on the altar of love.’

‘And then?’ The sunlight had faded now and her face had turned an ashen grey.

‘I gave him a few weeks to think the matter over — since his brain is scarcely his swiftest organ I thought he would need the time. I will not conceal from you that I rather doubted that he would come to a sensible decision. But I must confess that he surprised me; the last time I saw him he was perfectly amenable, quite docile in fact. His words, as I remember them, were “What do you require of me?”‘

‘Oh no!’ Mrs Burnham’s hands flew to her cheeks. ‘Mr Reid, I cannot believe that you would be so ruthless, so cruel.’

‘Oh but it is you who deserves all the credit, Mrs Burnham,’ he shot back. ‘It was you who taught me cruelty — and as you know I am a quick learner.’

She put a hand on the gunwale, to steady herself, and looked at him with imploring eyes. ‘Please, Mr Reid,’ she said, ‘you must release him from this dreadful bargain.’

‘I am sorry, Mrs Burnham,’ said Zachary. ‘I am afraid the matter is not in my hands any more. It is your husband who is dealing with Captain Mee now. My part was only to reel him in.’

Mrs Burnham bit back a sob. ‘Poor, poor Neville,’ she said. ‘He prizes his honour above all things. For him there could be no worse fate.’

‘Oh but there could, Mrs Burnham,’ said Zachary. ‘I think his fate — and yours too — would be far worse if your husband were to twig on to the history of your little dalliance.’ He paused to scratch his cheek. ‘And all it would take, you know, is a brief chat with the captain’s havildar — that is how I myself found out. I’m sure it would not be difficult to arrange for your husband to meet him too.’

‘But you wouldn’t!’

‘Well, Mrs Burnham, that depends,’ said Zachary, studying his fingernails. ‘It depends on you really.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I expect,’ said Zachary softly, ‘that you have forgotten a promise you once made to me — that when it came time for us to part, we would have one last night together. I think the time has come for you to redeem your pledge.’

‘But Mr Reid’ — she whispered the syllables slowly, as though his name belonged to someone she did not know — ‘how can you possibly ask that of me now? After everything you have said? It is unthinkable, unimaginable. I cannot do it.’

‘Oh but you can, Mrs Burnham! And you shall. If Captain Mee can make a small sacrifice on the altar of love, why shouldn’t you?’

Mrs Burnham was now clutching the gunwale with both hands, as if to prevent herself from falling over. ‘Oh Mr Reid,’ she whispered. ‘What has become of you? What have you become?’

He was not slow to retort. ‘I have become what you wanted, Mrs Burnham,’ he said. ‘You wanted me to be a man of the times, did you not? And that is what I am now; I am a man who wants more and more and more; a man who does not know the meaning of “enough”. Anyone who tries to thwart my desires is the enemy of my liberty and must expect to be treated as such.’

Mrs Burnham began to sob, quietly. ‘Mr Reid — Zachary — you cannot do this. What you’re asking of me is utterly inhuman. Only a monster or demon could contemplate such a thing. I cannot believe that you are those things.’

‘It is yourself you have to thank, Mrs Burnham,’ said Zachary. ‘It was all your own doing, wasn’t it? It was you who decided that I needed to be re-made in a more enlightened mould. It might have been better for both of us if you had left me to languish where you found me. But you chose instead to rescue me from that dark, unnameable continent — and now it is too late.’

Zachary broke off to look up at the darkening sky; it was still cloudless but the wind had strengthened a little.

‘There is a storm coming, as you probably know. I will arrange our rendezvous once it blows over. And you need not worry, Mrs Burnham; everything will be done with the utmost discretion. But until then I’d advise you to be careful — it looks as though we’re in for quite a blow. I’m glad you’re going ashore. A ship is no place for landlubbers during a storm: you’ll be safer in the godown.’

‘You need not concern yourself with my safety, Mr Reid,’ she said, turning her back on him. ‘As I’m sure you know, I am perfectly capable of looking after myself.’

*

That night, word was received that six million silver dollars had finally been handed over by the Chinese authorities; the money had been transferred to the Blenheim for safekeeping.

In the four fortresses there was great relief: for the first time in many days, Kesri fell into a deep sleep.

But all too soon someone was shouting into his ears: Havildar-sah’b, utho! Wake up!

It was a little after daybreak and an orderly had brought an urgent message: Kesri was wanted by Captain Mee, up in the turret of the fortress.

Kesri dressed quickly, putting on a freshly washed vest before pulling on his red koortee. But once again the weather was hot and steamy: sweat poured off him as he climbed up the turret’s stairs and by the time he reached Captain Mee the vest was plastered clammily against his skin.

Captain Mee was sweating too. ‘It’s going to be another teakettle day,’ he said, mopping his face — but to Kesri it seemed that there was something different about the heat of that morning. The air was so still and heavy that even the birds and insects had fallen silent. And along the southern horizon there was a broad smudge of blue-black cloud. Kesri looked at it with foreboding: ‘I think today the storm will come, sir.’

‘You think so?’

‘Yes, sir — looks like a real tufaan.’

‘Well, it couldn’t have picked a worse time.’

The captain pointed to the rice-fields at the foot of the hill. ‘Look over there.’

Looking down, Kesri saw that the rice-fields were once again swarming with people, but these were not the refuge-seekers of the last few days: they were armed men, and instead of fleeing northwards they were heading towards the four fortresses.

How had so many men materialized in the fields overnight? ‘You think they are soldiers, sir?’

‘No, havildar — they could be irregulars, but they’re certainly not soldiers.’

Kesri took a closer look with the captain’s spyglass: he had the impression that the crowd was composed largely of youths like those who had been gathering in the villages over the last few days — except that their numbers had suddenly swelled a hundredfold or more.

Soon afterwards Captain Mee was summoned to a meeting at headquarters. On his return Kesri learnt that the general and his aides had taken notice of the crowds as well; they had concluded that something would have to be done to disperse them. As a first step Mr Thorn, the translator, had been sent to the mandarins, to demand that measures be taken to break up the gatherings.

But nothing had come of it: the mandarins had protested that they had nothing to do with the uprising and were themselves thoroughly alarmed; the crowds had gathered of their own accord, they had insisted, and for all they knew they might well turn against them too.