A HAZARD OF HEARTS (6 page)

God have mercy on me, she thought, feeling her
senses slipping away.

The city had fallen. All twenty-two miles
of Nanking’s great walls, bristling with wooden beams and iron spikes, were breached.
All but two of the thirteen original Ming gates had been largely destroyed. Shops,
temples, houses, all had tumbled into smoking ruins, while twenty thousand
people lay hacked or burned to death among them. With their protective walls
destroyed, the powdered women in their peacock satins no longer lolled and
gossiped the day away, for they, too, were dead or fled; and in the bare
warrens the lifeless poor lay piled high.

Pearl, crouched in a barrel amongst the rubble
of the Protestant Mission where she had taken refuge, listened to the sporadic
crackle of musketry and decided it sounded far enough away for her to creep out
down to the river. For that was the only way of escape – the highway to the sea
and a ship to take her in search of her brother. She would hide on the wharves,
scavenge for food, await her chance.

She thought, with a mixture of compassion and
derision, of her missionary hosts, buried beneath their own fallen roof. How could
they have been so stupid as to believe the Tai Ping promises of brotherhood in
Jesus? This was an army of beggars, pirates, deserters, the country’s scourings
whose only aim was ravishment and plunder. The high visionary outlook of Hung
Hsiu-ch’uan, their leader, had degenerated into fanaticism, allowing the extreme
brutality that would forever discredit the movement.

Pearl had tried to disillusion the people at the
mission, describing the sacking of her home and her mother’s murder. However,
these had been seen as isolated incidents carried out by disaffected troops. Everyone
knew the Triads were thugs, yet they formed only a part of Hung’s great army. Doubtless,
when Hung himself arrived the Church Missionary Society would make fruitful
contact, which would lead to the Christian Word being spread throughout China. With
their eyes fixed firmly on the Holy Grail of conversion, the missionaries ignored
the almost overwhelming obstacles to China’s Christianisation, putting their
trust in the Divine Will. And thus they had died in the fires set by invaders
too filled with blood-lust to differentiate between friend and foe.

Pearl had arrived in Nanking a few days earlier,
having worked her passage on a fishing boat. She headed immediately for the
House of Five Lanterns, where western friends of her foster family lived and evangelised
discreetly on sufferance, regarded more as an entertainment than a source of
trouble. Here she did obtain news of the brother she had not seen since her
babyhood. Mrs. Edna Horbury, tall, angular, self-satisfied as a wading bird in
a fish-filled pond, had broken the news in a tediously roundabout way.

 ‘I’m sorry if you hoped to find Edgar here. When
your family... er... dissipated, as you know, Edgar sold himself as a labourer.
Later he was able to come to us but he was never... well, he was never a
success, you know. Too independent, by far.’

‘Edgar?’

‘We gave him a proper Christian name, you know,
one we could pronounce.’

‘His name is Li Po,’ Pearl said firmly,
irritated by the arrogance.

‘Yes, well, as I said, he was with us for a
year, then he ran away. It was most inconvenient, you know. We had to train
another boy in his duties and it’s difficult to find a family that will sell a
male child, as you know.’

Pearl tightened her lips. ‘Li Po is not a boy,
he is a man. No wonder he ran away, if you treated him like a child.’ Her heart
had become a weight in her chest. Her brother, her last remaining relative, had
left before she could reach him.

Edna Horbury bridled. ‘You are just a little
impertinent. I’m sure my husband and I did our best for the b... for Edgar. We
were quite hurt when he left us without a word, you know.’

‘Do you know where he went? Is he still in
Nanking?’

‘I really couldn’t say.’

Pearl saw that she’d given offence, and hastened
to alter her tone. ‘Mrs Horbury, I apologise. I was too abrupt. My excuse is my
anxiety to find my brother. He is all I have left in the world.’

‘You have the Lord Jesus, my child, and are
therefore never alone.’

‘Of course.’ Pearl’s voice was smooth. ‘And if
my prayers are answered I will find my brother. Could you possibly be
instrumental in answering those prayers, Mrs Horbury? Could you?’

Edna Horbury succumbed. ‘Well, do you know, I
just might be. Thomas, our gardener, was Edgar’s friend. They may have secretly
kept in touch.’

When consulted, Thomas, a gnarled tree stump of
a man totally at home in his setting, was able to provide an answer. It was one
that, at first, added a load to Pearl’s weighted heart. Her brother had heard
about the great gold strikes in a land of the Red Hairs far to the south and
had gone to make his fortune.

‘Left China!’ Pearl sank down on her haunches
and laid her forehead on her knees.

Thomas tittered. ‘He heard that gold hung from
the trees in this land, this Ostrahleeah. He told me he would come home with a
sackful to buy the house of a mandarin and live in it and forget that he ever
bore the mark of slavery.’

Gold that hung from trees? Pearl shook her head.
Li Po would be disappointed. But at least she now knew where to find him. She
rose and thanked Thomas for his help, then turned to his mistress.

‘I will follow my brother to this Ostrahleeah. How
do I get there?’

Edna Horbury allowed herself a superior smile. ‘My
dear, the place is practically off the map, thousands of miles away. You could
never travel such a distance.’

‘Others do. Where can I find a ship to take me?’
When the woman hesitated, Pearl moved impatiently. ‘I’ll find out for myself. Could
I please stay with you for a few days until I make my arrangements? I want to
leave Nanking before the Tai Ping come.’

Hospitality being offered and accepted, Edna
Horbury set herself to explain to this half pagan child just how she had misjudged
the God-worshipping Tai Ping leader. Pearl listened, argued, then gave up in
the face of such monumental assurance. However, she had not been alone in appreciating
that the river made a swift highway. The rebels also had taken to the water,
and within three days were at the city walls. Pearl had left it too late to
leave.

~*~

By dusk the rampage had ended. Certain by
then that whatever was left of the city had quietened, Pearl picked her way
cautiously through the narrow streets blocked with clay bricks, shattered tiles
and shards of timber. These were remains of narrow houses butted hard against
one another yet not strong enough to withstand deliberate attack. The air was
thick with smoke and the sweet smell of roasted flesh, overlaid with charred
wood. Even the inevitable miasma that cloaked China in an ancient stinking pall
– decayed garbage, over-flowing sewers, faeces spread in the paddy fields, putrefied
remains floating in the canals – even this had been temporarily overcome.

Accustomed as she was to unpleasant smells,
Pearl wrinkled her small nose and covered it with her sleeve. She remembered
these streets as busy arteries leading to the markets where all the world
gathered to gossip and haggle over the produce brought in from the countryside;
where rickshaws jostled chairmen transporting high-nosed mandarins to the
palaces for audience with equally high-nosed officials; and street urchins and
beggars blocked passage to the many temples, whining, importuning.

Pearl’s eyes filled with tears, the first she
had allowed herself to shed since war swept away her world. The tears became a
torrent and, shaking too much to continue, she crept into shelter under some
fallen pillars to give way to her grief. She didn’t weep for the destruction,
or for the mass death surrounding her, but for herself and the loss of two good
people who had cared enough about their fellow men to leave home, comfort and
loved ones to bring an important gift of knowledge to a country lacking that
knowledge. It didn’t matter whether they were unwelcome, that their message had
little relevance for the people they tried to help, physically and spiritually.
They had ignored the very real risks they ran and in the end had given their
lives for their beliefs. All that Pearl knew of goodness and self- sacrifice
came from them, so she wept for her loss.

~*~

Two weeks later
HMS Hermes
, carrying
the Governor of Hong Kong, Sir George Bonham, docked at Nanking. While the representative
of Her Britannic Majesty was frustrated in his endeavour to see the self-styled
new Emperor of China in person, Pearl, now ragged and half-starved, slipped
aboard the vessel, along with a group of eager sightseers. Avoiding the crew
members trying to contain the unexpected crowd, she found a hiding place below deck
where she stayed until the ship weighed anchor for the coastal city of
Shanghai, far away to the south-east.

Of course discovery was inevitable. When a shout
of surprise was accompanied by a fierce jerk on her plait, Pearl rose
uncomplainingly from behind the crate and allowed herself to be dragged on
deck, to the accompaniment of a few kicks. She did begin to struggle when her
captor thrust her head and shoulders over the side rail and looked about to
throw her into the river, but a peremptory voice stopped his game.

‘Seaman, put that child down and explain his
presence aboard one of Her Majesty’s vessels.’

The sailor knuckled his forehead, while firmly
twisting his other hand in Pearl’s plait.‘Stowaway, sir. Just giving him a bit
of a fright, like, before taking him before the Mate.’

‘A stowaway, eh? Now, I wonder why.’ The
speaker, young and elegantly dressed, was clearly accustomed to command. He
rubbed his chin and looked amused, then beckoned to Pearl. ‘Come here, boy.’

Feeling her queue released, no doubt
reluctantly, Pearl approached the speaker. Here was authority, and she peeped warily
from beneath lowered lids, seeking evidence of his character and temperament.

His smile grew as she went down on her knees in obeisance,
hands clasped before her.

‘Rascal,’ he said in fluent Chinese. ‘There’s no
humility in you. I saw your face when you were being man-handled. My name is
Meadows, and I’m the Governor’s official representative. So, who are you?’

His brows rose as Pearl replied in perfect
English,

‘I am a fugitive from the Tai Ping, honoured
sir. I came aboard your vessel to escape the city before I was recaptured and
executed. If, from the kindness of your heart, you will give me passage to the
coast I shall remember your honourable name in my prayers.’

‘Well, I’ll be blowed. What cheek.’ The bosun,
drawn by the interested group crowding around Pearl, stood hands on hips,
glaring. ‘Give ‘im to me, sir. I’ll deal with the mudlark.’

Meadows shook his head. ‘You still have not told
me your name, boy.’

Pearl drew herself up. ‘I am Li Po, honoured
sir, the adopted son of Doctor & Mrs Morris Carter, lately of the Protestant
Mission near Pai Hu.’

‘I see.’ Meadows fingered his chin once more. ‘I’ve
heard what has been happening to the missions when the rebels pass through. You
are a fugitive indeed. Were your adoptive parents killed?’

Pearl’s lids hooded her dark eyes. She nodded.

‘Poor child. How old are you... eleven, twelve?’

Again Pearl nodded, as if choked beyond speech.

‘Too young to fend for yourself. What would you
do if I did permit you to stay with us as far as Shanghai?’

‘My brother lives there, honoured sir. He will
give me shelter.’

‘Hmn. Well, I expect you eat little enough and
you certainly don’t take up much space. You can stay aboard and make yourself
useful to the cook. Bosun, the lad is not to be interfered with. He’ll sleep on
deck, not in the foc’sle, and if any harm comes to him I’ll hold you
responsible.’

The bosun all but snarled, ‘Yessir,’ then turned
to vent his aggravation on the crew, roaring orders as they scurried to their
stations.

Pearl bowed her forehead to the deck but Meadows
pulled her up. ‘Don’t kow-tow to me, lad. A Western man stands on his two feet,
wherever he is, or with whom, and you should do the same. Now, go to the
galley. Say I sent you.’

Pearl bowed. ‘Permit me to thank you, honoured
sir. I shall make a special prayer to the Almighty for your protection.’

‘Eh? Oh, thank you.’

Once assured of safety, Pearl enjoyed the two
hundred mile trip through the fertile valley of the Yangtse. It was a broad
river, often divided by thickly wooded islands. At this season the days were
cool and dry. She spent her free time, of which she had plenty, up in the bows.
There she watched the paddies and tiny farm fields glide by, the peasants
gather the winter harvests of wheat, beans and barley, the water buffalo
working or drinking at the river’s edge where long coarse grasses grew. There
were fields of tobacco plants, orchards of lychees and mulberries and acres and
acres devoted to rice-growing. A bountiful land where none could starve, unless
ravaged by invaders.