Flood of Fire (59 page)

Startled by the intensity of her tone, Zachary said: ‘What is it, Mrs Burnham? Tell me.'

‘It is about Paulette: I know you have written to her, to sever your connection. She has told me about your chitty.'

‘What did she say?'

‘She did not say much but I could tell that she was deeply, deeply wounded.'

‘Well I am sorry about that, Mrs Burnham,' said Zachary. ‘I tried to be polite but the truth is that I too was deeply hurt by the things she had said about me.'

‘But that's just the cheez!' Mrs Burnham caught her breath with a muted sob. ‘Paulette didn't mean what I thought she had! It was all a terrible misunderstanding on my part.'

‘I don't understand, Mrs Burnham.' Zachary's voice fell to a whisper. ‘Do you mean that she never implied that she was “with child”?'

‘Not intentionally. No.'

‘But what of her relations with your husband? They were not entirely innocent surely?'

‘Well Mr Reid, I do believe they were, at least on Paulette's part. I am sure her stories of the beatings were true; I am sure also that she did it without knowing what she was doing – and when she realized what it signified, she fled our house immediately, before things could go any further.'

Over the last many months Zachary had come to be convinced that Paulette had wilfully and maliciously deceived both himself and Mrs Burnham; that his suspicions might be unfounded was hard to accept. ‘How do you know all this?' he demanded. ‘Did you ask her about it?'

‘No,' said Mrs Burnham. ‘I did not ask her directly. But one day when my husband and I were in Macau we ran into her unexpectedly. I watched the two of them closely and you can take my word for it that she behaved in a way that entirely gave the lie to the conjectures that you and I had nurtured. She was completely natural and unafraid – it was my husband who seemed sheepish and apprehensive. I am convinced now that she told you the truth about what had passed between them – it was only that and nothing more.'

Still unconvinced, Zachary persisted: ‘I don't see how you can be so sure.'

‘But I am indeed sure, Mr Reid,' she said. ‘I realize now that I had let my imagination run away with me. I was at a loss to understand why Paulette had fled our house and the only explanation I could think of was that you had puckrowed and impregnated her. When you came to ask for that job, this suspicion weighed heavily upon me; I thought that if I had you within my grasp, I could make you repent of your loocherism and cure you of it forever. But then something changed; against my own will I found myself drawn to you and was powerless to resist. That was why, perhaps, I was willing to believe the worst of Paulette – yet she was utterly without blame. The fault was entirely mine.'

Now, at last Zachary began to give ground. ‘The fault was as much mine as yours, Mrs Burnham,' he said grudgingly. ‘What you have owned of yourself is true for both of us. I too was prepared to believe the worst of Paulette – perhaps because it seemed to lessen our own guilt.'

‘Yes, we are both guilty—'

She cut herself short as a skiff appeared in the distance, pulling away from the
Wellesley
and heading towards the
Anahita
.

‘Oh there is my husband's boat!' said Mrs Burnham breathlessly. ‘He will be here in a matter of minutes and after that I must go into town, to make a few calls. We have very little time left, so please, Mr Reid, you must listen jaldee.'

‘Yes, Mrs Burnham?'

‘We – or rather I – have done Paulette a terrible injustice, Mr Reid. I would have liked to make amends myself, but I dare not, for fear of revealing too much, about us – you and I.'

‘So Paulette doesn't know about us?'

‘No, of course not,' said Mrs Burnham. ‘I told her nothing for fear that it might put an end to the possibility of a future for you and her.'

Zachary's eyebrows rose: ‘What do you mean by “future”, Mrs Burnham?'

‘I mean your happiness, Mr Reid.' Mrs Burnham raised a hand to brush away a tear. ‘You were destined to be together, you and Paulette – I can see that now. And so you might have been, if not for me.'

She looked him in the face, eyes glistening. ‘I am a vile, selfish, weak creature, Mr Reid. I succumbed to temptation with you and have been the cause of much unhappiness for yourself and for Paulette, for whom I have nothing but affection. I know all too well what it is to have one's love destroyed and I am tormented by the thought that I may myself have been the cause of it, for the two of you. You cannot let me go to my grave with that weighing upon my soul. I will have no peace until I know that you have been reunited with her.'

‘But there is nothing to be done, Mrs Burnham,' protested Zachary. ‘Paulette still has my letter – I cannot take it back.'

‘Yes you can, Mr Reid. You can apologize to her; you can explain
that you had been deceived by salacious gossip. You can beg forgiveness. You must do it for my sake if not for your own – if ever I meant anything to you, you must do it for me.'

Such was the urgency in her voice that Zachary could not refuse. ‘But Mrs Burnham, how am I to meet with her? I doubt that she would receive me.'

‘Oh do not worry about that, Mr Reid; I have already thought of a way to bring the two of you together.'

Mrs Burnham's voice grew increasingly hurried now, seeing that the skiff had pulled abreast of the
Anahita
.

‘You will have an opportunity very soon. On New Year's Day, we are holding a sunset levée on the
Anahita
. Mr Burnham wants to receive and entertain some of the expedition's officers. There will be some ladies too, and I have invited Paulette as well. She has accepted – perhaps because she does not know that you are here. You must come – you can speak to her then.'

With that Mrs Burnham turned around and made her way down to the maindeck, with her parasol on her shoulder. Zachary followed a few steps behind and stood in the shadows, watching as her posture grew more erect. By the time Mr Burnham stepped on deck she had completely regained her usual air of regal indifference. Watching the couple together, as they exchanged a brisk kiss and a few quiet words, Zachary was seized with admiration, not just for her but also for her husband, who was the picture of calm mastery.

‘May I take the skiff now, dear?' said Mrs Burnham. ‘I thought I would go to Macau to make a few calls.'

‘Yes of course, dear,' said Mr Burnham. ‘And if I may, I will charge you with an errand.'

‘Certainly,' said Mrs Burnham. ‘What is it?'

‘You will perhaps remember Mrs Moddie, who we had once met in Bombay? I think I mentioned to you, didn't I, that she would be travelling to Macau on the
Hind
? Her late husband was my colleague on the Select Committee – a most remarkable man. Indeed, this expeditionary force might not be here today if not for Mr Moddie; at a crucial meeting of the committee, it was Mr Moddie who helped carry the day by standing fast in the defence of freedom.'

‘Yes, I remember, dear,' said Mrs Burnham. ‘You told me about it.'

‘Well, I gather Mrs Moddie is now at the Villa Nova, her nephew's house on the Praya Grande. I was thinking that we should invite her to our New Year's levée.'

‘Yes of course we must, dear,' said Mrs Burnham. ‘I'll be sure to call on her.'

‘Thank you, my dear.' Mr Burnham bent down to kiss his wife on the cheek.

*

Only after the skiff had departed did Mr Burnham turn to Zachary. ‘Come, Reid,' he said, leading the way to the quarter-deck. ‘I'm sure you have a lot to tell me.' ‘Yes, sir.'

For the next half-hour they paced the deck together as Zachary talked about his voyages, on the
Hind
and the
Ibis
, and his sales of opium, in Singapore and along the China coast. Mr Burnham listened carefully but said very little, only nodding from time to time to indicate his approval. But he broke his silence when Zachary mentioned Lenny Chan.

‘Mr Chan's a very useful man to know, Reid; very useful indeed!'

Mr Burnham's approbation became even more animated when Zachary showed him the accounts and explained that he had netted a profit of close to a million dollars on this one voyage: from these figures alone it was evident, that despite the best efforts of the Chinese government, the hunger for opium was only growing stronger and stronger, especially among the young.

‘Shahbash, Reid! Splendid!' cried Mr Burnham. ‘The rise in prices is proof of the power of the marketplace; a demonstration of the folly of those who would try to thwart the workings of nature's divinely ordained laws. To confound the tyrants is to do the Lord's work – a day will surely come when young Free-Traders such as yourself will be regarded as Apostles of Liberty.'

‘Thank you, sir,' said Zachary gratefully. ‘It was a pleasure to be of service. If there is anything else I can do I hope you will let me know.'

At this Mr Burnham's expression turned pensive and he seemed to experience a rare moment of uncertainty. ‘Well, Reid,' he said
at last, ‘although you've done very well so far you're still young. I am not sure you are ready for other challenges.'

‘Oh but please, sir,' said Zachary earnestly, ‘I do hope you will give me a chance to prove myself!'

Mr Burnham turned aside, as though to weigh conflicting considerations. Then, coming to a decision, he put an arm around Zachary's shoulder and led him across the deck.

‘Your hunger for self-improvement is most impressive, Reid. But you do understand, don't you, that certain matters must be kept in the strictest confidence?'

‘Oh yes indeed, sir. I shall not breathe a word.'

‘Well then, Reid, look ahead of you.'

Leading Zachary to the bulwark, Mr Burnham raised a hand to point to the
Wellesley
and the
Druid
, which were anchored a short distance away.

‘Assembled in these waters are thousands of soldiers and sailors from many parts of the British Empire. Every one of them must be fed, several times a day, according to their tastes and prejudices. Of all those men the hardest to feed are sepoys, especially Bengal sepoys, because they adhere to a great variety of dietary rules. They will eat nothing but their familiar provisions: grains, lentils, dried vegetables, spices and the like. Fortunately these foods are cheap and easily available in their own country – but overseas they are often difficult to find. This sometimes results in a situation that is very well suited to the operation of the first law of commerce.'

‘I'm not sure I understand, sir.'

‘To buy cheap and sell dear,' said Mr Burnham, ‘is the first law of commerce, is it not?'

‘Oh I see, sir!' said Zachary. ‘What you mean is that those foods are cheap in India but dear over here?'

‘Exactly! And if someone happens to possess a ship that is loaded with such provisions – and I will not conceal from you that the
Annahita
is one such – the opportunity for profit is boundless. But in order to dispose of cargoes like these the co-operation of one or two officers is almost always necessary. And that is the trouble – to obtain the co-operation of military men is not always easy, for many of them harbour a perverse suspicion of commerce. Indeed it could be said that as a class they are no less benighted than the
Celestials in their hostility to the God-given laws of the market.' ‘Really, sir?'

‘Yes – regrettably it is all too true. But fortunately there are always a few who understand that God would not have endowed Man with a love of profit if it were not for his own good. If assured a share of the gains, they are often very helpful. Many are able to exert great influence on the purchasing officers of their commissariats.'

‘But how are such men to be found, sir?'

‘Through careful observation and hard work, Reid. The most important task is to collect information: to find out, for example, which officers are living above their means and are being dunned by tradesmen. On an expedition like this one you can be sure that there are many such – they volunteer precisely in the hope of gaining enough prize money to satisfy their creditors.'

Now Mr Burnham began to drum his fingertips on the deck-rail.

‘I do not mind telling you, Reid, that I have my eye on an officer who may be just the man we need. I met him on the
Wellesley
a few days ago and was able to observe him at cards. He is exactly the kind of headstrong, free-spending fellow who is likely to be mired in debt. But I suspect he is hot-tempered too so he may not be easy to approach. It is sure to be a challenge.'

Mr Burnham paused to turn a speculative eye on Zachary. ‘I am of a mind, Reid, to let you handle him. Do you think you are up for it?'

Answering on impulse Zachary said: ‘Why of course, sir! You can count on me.'

‘Good,' said Mr Burnham. ‘I will leave him to you then. He will be attending our New Year's levée – his name is Captain Neville Mee.'

That he would name the one officer with whom he had almost come to blows was the last thing that Zachary had expected: an exclamation of alarm rose to his lips but he was able to bite it back in time.

Fortunately Mr Burnham did not seem to have noticed his discomfiture. ‘Do you happen to know Captain Mee?'

‘A little,' said Zachary hesitantly. ‘He was on the
Hind
too.'

‘Oh yes, of course,' said Mr Burnham. ‘I'd forgotten about that. It's certainly propitious that you are already acquainted with him. Do you think you might be able to obtain his co-operation?'

To bribe Captain Mee would be no easy thing, Zachary knew, but now that he had committed himself he could not bring himself to recant. ‘I can certainly try, sir. I will do my best.'

*

Outside the gates of Dinyar Ferdoonjee's villa was a bench, facing the Praya Grande: often, when Captain Mee was invited to a tiffin or luncheon at the villa, Kesri would wait there so that they could return to Saw Chow Island together.