‘The rumour’, added Wetmore, ‘is that the Commissioner has asked that a cook, specializing in European food, be provided by the Co-Hong.’
‘What does it mean?’ said Bahram. ‘Are they planning to keep Dent? Put him in jail?’
‘Perhaps,’ said Burnham with a grim smile. ‘Or it could be something worse still – maybe they’re planning to throw him a Last Supper.’
‘Oh please, Benjamin,’ said Dent, wringing his hands. ‘Must you speak of that?’
‘Sir!’
Mr Fearon was back now. ‘The Weiyuen says it is clearly stated in the Emperor’s decrees that all foreign residents in China must abide by Chinese law.’
‘But that has not been the custom,’ said Wetmore. ‘In Canton, it has always been understood that foreigners would conduct their affairs according to their own laws. Please explain that to the Weiyuen, Mr Fearon.’
‘Very well, sir.’
Mr Fearon was hardly gone before he was back. ‘The Weiyuen asks that you approach him. He wishes to address you directly.’
‘Approach him?’ cried Slade indignantly. ‘So he may rub in our faces the degradation he has inflicted on Howqua and Punhyqua? Why, it is the most abominable impudence!’
‘He insists, sir.’
‘We had better go,’ said Dent, ‘there’s no need to provoke him.’
The others followed him across the room and positioned themselves so they could address the Weiyuen without being directly confronted with the two chained Hongists.
‘The Weiyuen asks if in your country foreigners are exempted from observing the laws of the land.’
‘No,’ said Mr Wetmore. ‘They are not.’
‘Why then should you consider yourselves exempt from Chinese law?’
‘Because it has been the custom for the foreign community in Canton to regulate itself.’
‘The Weiyuen says: this custom holds only so long as you do not flout the laws of the land. We have given you warning after warning, issued edicts and proclamations, and yet you have continued to bring opium ships to our coast, in defiance of the law. Why then should you not be treated as criminals?’
‘Please explain to the Weiyuen,’ said Mr Wetmore, ‘that as Englishmen and Americans, we enjoy certain freedoms under the laws of our own countries. These require us to be subject, in the first instance, to our own laws.’
This took a while to explain.
‘The Weiyuen says he cannot believe that any country would be so barbaric as to allow its merchants the freedom to harm and despoil the people of a foreign realm. This is not freedom – it is akin to piracy. No government could possibly condone it.’
Mr Slade’s patience had worn thin by now, and he had begun to tap his cane loudly on the floor. ‘Oh for heaven’s sake!’ he cried. ‘Can we not dispense with this mealy-mouthed cant? Please tell him, Mr Fearon, that he will know what freedom means when he sees it coming at him from the barrel of a sixteen-pounder.’
‘Oh I cannot say that to him, sir,’ said Mr Fearon.
‘No, of course not,’ said Dent. ‘But I do believe Slade has a point. The time has come when we must seek Captain Elliott’s intervention.’
Mr King had been listening to this exchange with a wry smile, and he broke in now: ‘But Mr Dent! It is you and Mr Slade who have always wanted to keep Captain Elliott at a distance from Canton. Am I wrong to think that it was you who said that the involvement of a government representative would be a perversion of the laws of Free Trade?’
‘This is no longer a matter of trade, Mr King,’ said Dent coldly. ‘As you can see, it now concerns our persons, our safety.’
‘Oh I see!’ said Mr King with a laugh. ‘The government is to you what God is to agnostics – only to be invoked when your own wellbeing is at stake!’
‘Please, sir,’ Mr Fearon broke in. ‘The Weiyuen is waiting. What am I to say to him?’
The answer was provided by Mr Wetmore. ‘Tell him that it is impossible for us to do anything without consulting with the English Representative, Captain Elliott, who is currently in Macau. Please inform him that we have sent word to him. He will be here soon.’
Absorbed in this exchange, Bahram had become totally oblivious to everything else that was going on around him: he was startled when he heard Zadig’s voice in his ear.
Please Bahram-bhai, can I have a word with you?
Yes. Of course.
They retreated to a quiet corner, behind a huge armoire.
There’s something I must tell you, Bahram-bhai.
Yes. What is it?
Zadig leant closer. I have it on good authority that your name was also on the arrest warrant.
What warrant? What are you talking about?
The same warrant that has been served on Dent. I have it on good authority that your name was on it this morning. You too were to be arrested. I believe your name was removed just before the Weiyuen set off to fetch Dent.
Bahram’s eyes opened wide in disbelief: But why would they want to arrest me? What have I done?
They are evidently well informed about what has been going on at the Chamber. Clearly they know that Dent has been opposing the surrender of the opium. Perhaps they have learnt of your opposition too.
But how could they know? said Bahram. And if they do, then why did they remove my name?
Perhaps they felt the Chamber might give you up in exchange for Dent.
Bahram’s voice fell to a whisper. But the commitee would not allow it surely? he said. Would they?
Listen, Bahram-bhai, you are not an American or an Englishman. You don’t have any warships behind you. If the Chamber had to surrender you or Dent, who do you think they would pick?
Bahram stared at him: his throat had gone dry but he managed to say: What shall I do then, Zadig Bey? Tell me?
You had better go back to your hong, Bahram-bhai. And maybe you should stay out of sight for a while.
Although not entirely persuaded, Bahram decided to follow Zadig’s advice. He slipped away and on the way back he had the distinct impression that the guardsmen were scrutinizing him with special care; while crossing the Maidan his instinct told him he was being watched. Everywhere he looked, eyes seemed to be following him: although he strode along as fast as he could, the two-minute walk seemed to last an hour.
Even the safety of his daftar brought little comfort to Bahram: it was as if the familiar surroundings had become a cage. When he looked out of the window, squads of guardsmen seemed to appear out of nowhere, to return his gaze; when he sat at his desk, he began to wonder what would have happened if his name had remained on the warrant. What if Howqua and Mowqua had come to the Achha Hong, with chains draped around their necks, to beg him to give himself up to the Yum-chae? He could almost hear Dinyar and the other Parsis clicking their tongues and whispering at a safe distance: Poor Shireenbai… husband in the chokey… just imagine the shame…
That night even laudanum failed to have its usual effect: the draught he took was strong enough that he was able to shut his eyes, but the sleep that came from it was neither continuous nor untroubled. At one point he imagined that his fravashi, his guardian spirit, was taking leave of him, abandoning him to make his way alone through the rest of his days on earth. He sat up to find the room plunged into a funereal darkness: even the lamp in his altar had gone out. He got groggily out of bed and kept striking matches until the divo lit up again. Barely had he closed his eyes – or so it seemed – when he was visited by another, even more disturbing vision: he saw himself stepping on to the bridge of heaven, Chinvat-pul; he saw that his way was barred by the angel of judgement, Meher Davar; he heard himself mouthing the words Kam nemon zam, kuthra nemon ayem? – ‘To which land shall I turn, where shall I go?’ – he saw the angel’s hand turning to point to the darkness under the bridge; he saw himself tumbling off the edge, falling into the fathomless chasm below.