Flashman Papers 3-Book Collection 4: Flashman and the Dragon, Flashman on the March, Flashman and the Tiger. George Fraser MacDonald

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СКАЧАТЬ cries he. “What else can you say, except that he is a poor deranged mystic, a hopeless lunatic who makes an obscene parody of Christianity? That is the truth, and that is what you will tell Mr Bruce!”

      He took a deep swig, while I stood mum and a mite apprehensive; what he’d said was a capital offence in these parts, and for all I knew, listening might be, too. He shook his head, grinning.

      “Oh, but you should have seen him once! In the old days. To know him then, my dear Sir Harry … I intend no blasphemy, but it was to understand the force that must have lived in Christ, or Buddha, or Mahomet. And now, poor soul … a mad shell, and nothing left within except that strange power that can still inspire devotion in folk like the Loyal Prince Lee.” He chuckled. “Even in people like me, sometimes. Enough to make me wish you had not seen him that night. I would have prevented it, but I learned of Lee’s intention too late – those were my men who intervened in the garden … unsuccessfully. Four of them died.” He gave an amused snort that made my skin crawl. “And, do you know – next day Lee and I greeted each other as usual, and said – nothing! We Taiping politicians are very discreet. Let me fill your glass.”

      I wasn’t liking this one bit. He’d never been this forthcoming before, and when great men wax confidential I find myself taking furtive looks over my shoulder. I just had to think of Palmerston.

      “I saw Lee’s purpose, of course,” says the pot-bellied rascal. “He hoped you would fall under our divine ruler’s spell, become a fanatical advocate of Anglo-Taiping alliance, and convince Mr Bruce likewise.” He shook his bullet head. “Poor Lee, he is such an optimist. With respect, my dear Sir Harry, soldiers should not meddle in affairs of state.” I was with him there. “For now I was in a difficulty. Until that night I had accepted, though without enthusiasm, Lee’s plan of marching on Shanghai and forcing Britain’s hand. But once you had seen the Tien Wang … well, I asked myself what must follow when you reported his deplorable condition to Mr Bruce. Alas,” he consoled himself with another hefty gulp, “it was all too plain. Whatever force we took to Shanghai, we could never persuade Britain to recognise a regime led by such a creature! Mr Bruce would only have to picture the reaction of Prince Albert and the Church of England. They would fight us, rather. No … whatever hope we had of an alliance must perish the moment you set foot in Bruce’s office.”

      If there’s one thing that can make me puke with terror, it’s having an Oriental despot tell me I’m inconvenient. “You think I’d be giving Bruce news?” I blurted. ‘Dammit, the whole world knows your Heavenly King’s a raving idiot!”

      “No, I think not,” says he mildly. “Some may suspect it, but most charitably regard the rumours as Imp propaganda and missionary gossip. They would not know the full deplorable truth … until you told them.” He looked wistfully at the bottle, now empty. “And then, we agree, Mr Bruce would reject us – and Lee would take Shanghai by storm, with all the horrors of sack and slaughter inevitable in such a victory, and we would be at war with Britain. A war we could not hope to win.” He sighed heavily. “It seemed to me that our only hope must be that your report never reached Mr Bruce, in which case, happily ignorant of the Tien Wang’s condition, he might well allow Lee to occupy Shanghai peacefully. Ah … you are not drinking, Sir Harry?”

      My reply to this was an apoplectic croak, and he brightened.

      “In that case, may I take your glass? Being fat, I am slothful, and it seems a long way to the house for another bottle. I thank you.” He drained my glass and wiped his lips contentedly. “I do like port, I confess.”

      “But … but … look here!” I interrupted, babbling. “Don’t you see, it won’t matter a bit if they know the Heavenly King’s cracked! Because I can tell ’em that you’re not, and that you’re guiding the revolution … sir … not that mad doxy-galloper! I swear that when Bruce knows you’re in charge – why, he’ll be far more inclined to accept the Taiping, knowing you have it in hand … make a treaty, even –”

      “Why, you are jolly kind!” beams the bloated Buddha. “But, alas, it would not be true. Lee is already as powerful as I, and when he succeeds at Shanghai, whether by persuasion or storm, it will be a triumph which cannot fail to enhance him and eclipse me utterly. It was while I was considering your own position that this fact burst on me with blinding force – I could see no issue at Shanghai that would not increase Lee’s power and undermine my own. And that was terrible to contemplate … no, it is no use, we must have the other bottle!”

      And he was off to the house like an obese whippet, kilting up his robe, his fat calves wobbling, while I sat alarmed and bewildered. He came back flourishing a bottle, laughing merrily as he resumed his seat and splashed port into our glasses.

      “Your good health, Sir Harry!” chortles he, damn his impudence. “Yes … terrible to contemplate. But you mustn’t think I’m jealous; if Lee were a realist, I would make way for him, for he is a splendid soldier who might win the war and establish the Heavenly Kingdom. I hoped so, once.” He shook his head again. “But of late I have seen how blind is his fanaticism, how implicitly he will obey every insane decree from that lunatic he worships. Between them they would make the Taiping a headless centipede, poisonous, clawing without direction – and there would never be an end to this abominable war of extermination. Oh, that’s what it is!” He laughed heartily, chilling my blood. “Do you know why we and the Imps never take prisoners? Because if we did, we could not hold our armies together – if they knew they could be taken prisoner, they would not fight. Consider that hideous fact, Sir Harry, and have some more port.” He reached for the bottle, and I realised he was watching me intently, his fat creased face grinning most oddly.

      “Between them, Lee and the Tien Wang will destroy the Taiping,” says he slowly, “unless I can prevent them. And that I can only do if I retain my power – and diminish that of Loyal Prince Lee. A grievous necessity,” sighs the fat hypocrite, beaming happily. “Now, Sir Harry, I wonder if you can foresee – as a strictly neutral observer – how that might be brought about?”

      Well, I’d seen where the blubbery villain was headed for some minutes past, and what between flooding relief and fury at the way he’d scared the innards out of me first, I didn’t mince words.

      “You mean if Lee falls flat on his arse at Shanghai!”

      He looked puzzled – doubtless the expression was seldom heard in the Hong Kong mission where he’d worked. “If Lee were to fail at Shanghai,” I explained. “If he tried to take the place and couldn’t.”

      He sucked in port noisily. “But is that possible? Obviously, you have a vested interest in saying that it is, but my dear Sir Harry –” he leaned forward, glittering piggily, “I have been entirely frank with you – dangerously frank – and I trust you to be equally candid with me. You know Mr Bruce’s mind; you know the position at Shanghai. Could Lee be made to fail?”

      Of course he knew the answer; he’d been studying it for weeks. “Well, in the first place,” says I, “he’ll not scare Bruce into letting him walk in. He’ll have to fight – and as I told you at our first meeting, it won’t be against a mob of useless Imps who’ll fall down if a Taiping farts at them.” I waited until his bellow of mirth had subsided. “He’ll be meeting British and French regulars for the first time – not many of ’em, but they can be reinforced, given time. We have Sikhs at Chusan, two regiments at Canton –”

      “Three,” says he. “I have information.”

      I’ll bet he had. “With the fleet lying off Peiho – oh, and this gang of Fred Ward’s for what it’s worth –”

      “Lee will have fifty thousand men, remember! СКАЧАТЬ