In the Yellow Sea. Frith Henry
In some ports eleven hundred cash equal a dollar.[1]
The dollar and cent are the money values in China, – copper cash and paper notes. A five cent piece represents about twopence farthing. Provided with cash, and even sometimes with a purse-bearer, one can "shop" in China if you are careful to give about one-third of the value of the article demanded. Let me now resume my story in 1894.
"Jule," said the skipper to me one day, "take the belt and come with me. I want to make a few purchases and to do a little bit of business. I think we shall make money."
I accordingly procured sufficient cash, and we were passing the club of Hong Kong, which, by the bye, contains a nice library, when a gentleman accosted the captain. The stranger looked like a Japanese. He was short, intelligent, quiet, but decided in his manner, and spoke English fairly well.
"Captain Goldheugh, I believe?" he said, raising his hat in salute. It was not the salute of an inferior, though; there was no servility in the man's manner.
"Yes, sir," replied the captain, responding in kind.
"Can you favour me with five minutes conversation?" asked the young man. "Perfectly private matter."
"Certainly," was the reply; "shall I accompany you? We may talk here." They drew aside within the shelter of the house, and appeared to be in earnest conversation, which continued for some minutes. Meantime I strolled back and forwards watching the mixed assortment of people, of whom there are specimens from India and Arabia and other lands in abundance – negroes, Europeans, Parsees, Chinese, British, Portuguese, and French, coolies, and some – very few – Japanese; so the gentleman who had accosted my skipper was rather remarkable, perhaps.
When the pair had finished their chat, the skipper came back to me, and said —
"Jule, my lad, ye need not carry the cash to-day. Unless I am mistaken we are in for a fine deal. Mind now, keep your mouth shut. I think we'll make a profitable business of this."
"What is it?" I asked, as we returned to the waterside.
"Well I'm going to trust ye now, as a gentleman. What d'ye think of a war?" he asked.
"A war!" I exclaimed. "Where? In Europe do you mean, against us?"
"No, here; in China perhaps."
Such an idea had never entered my mind. The fact of impending war in China had not been presented to me; all seemed peaceful.
"Who is going to fight?" I asked.
"Perhaps no one. But ye saw that Jap there?"
"Yes; a nice fellow I thought, sir."
"Well, he has made me an offer, and if my suspicions are correct we'll make a little haul of cash. English cash – pounds – not this miserable, crawling, centipede kind of stuff which wouldn't buy a scarecrow a meal for Sunday. No, bedad, Jule, my boy, we're in luck."
"I hope so, sir. How?"
"Don't ye know I told ye about some business when we started that had reference to a mandarin chap, one of the Company's customers, for whom I had advices. Now, mind ye, this Jap has shown a hand – only a finger, I may say, but a finger points somewhere; and it just indicates the very direction in which I was going later. D'ye take me?"
"Yes, sir. It seems that the John Chinaman and the Jap have their heads in the same direction."
"Exactly. Jack and Jap is the business entirely. I have business both in Japan and China. I know the seas about here, and they both know I know them. So my friend has 'offered' me for the steamer. What d'ye think of that? But he desires secrecy – a private cruise."
"The Japanese man you mean?"
"Ay, the Jap. But I was going to-day to the Mandarin Johnny to hear his business, and if he means the same, I smell war, my lad!"
"But how will that benefit you, sir?"
"It will benefit the Company if the Government takes up any transports, and makes a contract with the Fêng Shui. See? Now let us go on board, dress, and see the mandarin later."
We went off in a sampan to the steamer, which was lying off a little, awaiting orders. The captain took me ashore, dressed in a neat uniform, and I rather fancied myself in it. We landed, chartered two "rickshas," or jinrickshas, a Japanese importation, and were trotted out to the bamboo-shaded house, amid the scent of lovely flowers of all colours and perfumes – frangipanni, jessamine, roses – which the natives arrange in tasteful bouquets in the streets.
The "ricksha," pulled rapidly by the coolies, passed along the hilly thoroughfares under the hot and stifling sunlight. It was not a very bad day either, and yet in our cool white suits, and under wide umbrellas, the heat was quite sufficient that afternoon, and we were compelled to change on our return from our "pidgin" with the "Number One Johnny" – the high-class mandarin, to wit.
This mandarin lived in a bungalow, and affected certain tastes in deference to his neighbours – the English. He spoke the language well, and though he was dressed in Chinese fashion, and was a perfect Chinaman in appearance, he had risen above his people in many ways. We entered the house, which was almost destitute of all the attributes of British houses, no curtains, nor carpets, nor rugs, nor anything to heat one to look at; on the contrary, all things were cool – bamboo chairs, high casements, wide windows, stained floor, fans and punkahs waving automatically, it seemed, but, of course, pulled outside.
We were ushered in by a Chinese "boy," and into the presence of the "Number One man." He was dressed in the usual well-known fashion – a loose robe, with trousers, long sleeves to his garment, stuff shoes, and of course a fan. His keen eyes were shaded by spectacles. His shaven head and pendant pigtail and queer eyes betokened the true Chinaman.
After salutations, by rubbing his hands over each other, he asked in what he had deserved the tremendous honour which my captain had done him in visiting his most miserable hut.
The captain in reply mentioned certain instructions he had just received, and suggested that the "Number One man" knew something of his errand. What did the mandarin think of the steamer Fêng Shui?
"It is a solid vessel, and can carry soldiers?" he asked quickly, after some other remarks had passed. The Chinaman dispensed with any compliments just then; he offered us tea, but did not taste it then.
"Yes," replied the captain with deference, "she will suit for a transport. The Japanese wish for her."
The spectacles flashed at us, the fan waved, but no irritation was otherwise expressed.
"Has the Japan Government purchased the 'inside' steamer?" (screw).
"No, highness; I declined the offer. I am awaiting yours."
"Your terms for the steamship for three months, if we wish to send it with your crew to Corea?"
The captain paused a while, then he named a sum which made me look out of the window, I nearly smiled. I did not know the value of steam transports fitted for service; it meant hundreds a day! Hundreds for that small steamer and crew – and, of course, officers.
At length the transaction was completed. The tea was drunk then, not before. We bowed ourselves out, and regained the Fêng Shui, where the mate was in charge.
"Well," said the first officer, "what's happened?"
The captain told him our experiences, and mentioned the conclusions at which he had arrived.
"Look here," he said in a low tone, "mark ye this, there's going to be a fuss between these two countries. They are both trying to get ahead of the other, and I understand that Corea has a finger in the pie. That Japanese I told ye of – the man I pointed out to ye," he continued, addressing the mate – "ye know."
"Ay, ay; but he's not a Jap!"
"Not a Jap! What d'ye mean?" exclaimed the captain angrily.
"What I say, captain; he's no Jap! He and his pal are Coreans. I can see that. Look at his sleepy face under that 'bowler' hat – a disguise! He isn't a Jap;