The Flashman Papers: The Complete 12-Book Collection. George Fraser MacDonald
Merest Trifle, because he threw the coffee pot against the wall and kicked the servant – which was no more than that minion deserved, for his bearing had been Careless and Familiar, and he would not clean his nails before waiting upon us. And I, sullen Wretch that I was, reproved my Dearest One, and took that Bad Servant’s part, so that we were at odds over breakfast, and exchanged only the most Brief Remarks for the better part of the day, with Pouting and Missishness on my unworthy part, and Dark Looks and Exclamations from my Darling – but I see now how forbearing he was with such a Perverse and Contrary creature as me I. Oh, Unhappy, unworthy woman that I am, for it was in Cruel Huff that I accompanied Don S., that Viper, on his proposed excursion, thinking to Punish my dear, patient, sweet Protector – oh, it is I who am punished for my selfish and spiteful conduct!
All went well until our picnic ashore, although I believe the champagne was flat, and made me feel strangely drowsy, so that I must go aboard the vessel to lie down. With no thought of Peril, I slept, and awoke to find we were under way, with Don S. upon deck instructing his people to make all speed. “Where is Papa?” I cried, “and why are we sailing away from land? See, Don Solomon, the sun is sinking; we must return!” His face was Pale, despite his warm complection, and his look was Wild. With brutal frankness, yet in a Moderate Tone, he told me I should Resign myself, for I should never see my dear Papa again.
“What do you mean, Don Solomon?” I cried. “We are bidden to Mrs Alec Middleton’s for dinner!” It was then, in a voice which shook with Feeling, so unlike his usual Controll’d form of address, although I could see he was striving to master his Emotion, that he told me there could be no going back; that he was subject to an Overmastering Passion for me, and had been from our Moment of First Meeting. “The die is cast,” he declared. “I cannot live without you, so I must make you my own, in the face of the world and your husband, tho’ it means I must cut all my ties with civilized life, and take you beyond pursuit, to my own distant kingdom, where, I assure you, you will rule as Queen not only over my Possessions, but over my Heart.”
“This is madness, Don Solomon,” I cried. “I have no clothes with me. Besides, I am a married woman, with a Position in Society.” He said it was no matter for that, and Seizing me suddenly in his Powerful Embrace, which took my breath away, he vowed that I loved him too – that he had known it from Encouraging Signs he had detected in me – which, of course, was the Odious Construction which his Fever’d Brain had placed on the common civilities and little pleasantries which a Lady is accustomed to bestow on a Gentleman.
I was quite overcome at the fearful position in which I found myself, so unexpectedly, but not so much that I lost my capacity for Careful Consideration. For having pleaded with him to repent this madness, which could lead only to shame for myself, and Ruin for him, and even having demeaned myself to the extent of struggling vainly in his crushing embrace, so Brutally Strong and inflexible, as well as calling loudly for assistance and kicking his shins, I became calmer, and feigned to Swoon. I recollected that there is no Emergency beyond the Power of a Resolute Englishwoman, especially if she is Scotch, and took heart from the lesson enjoined by our dominie, Mr Buchanan, at the Renfrew Academy for Young Ladies and Gentlewomen – ah, dear home, am I parted forever from the Scenes of Childhood? – that in Moments of Danger, it is of the first importance to take Accurate Measurements and then act with boldness and dispatch.
Accordingly, I fell limp in my Captor’s cruel – altho’ no doubt he meant it to be Affectionate – clasp, and he relaxing his vigilance, I broke free and sped to the rail, intending to cast myself upon the mercy of the waves, and swim ashore – for I was a Strong Swimmer, and hold the West of Scotland Physical Improvement Society’s certificate for Saving Life from Drowning, having been among the First to receive it when that Institution was founded in 1835, or it may have been 1836, when I was still a child. It was not very far to the shore, either, but before I could fling myself into the sea, in the Trust of Almighty God, I was seized by one of Don S.’s Hideous and Smelling natives, and despite my struggles, I was carried below, at Don S.’s orders, and am confined in the saloon, where I write this melancholy account.
What shall I do? Oh, Harry, Harry, darling Harry, come and save me! Forgive my Thoughtless and Wayward behaviour, and Rescue me from the Clutches of this Improper Person. I think he must be mad – and yet, such Passionate Obsessions are not uncommon, I believe, and I am not insensible of the Regard that I have been shown by others of his sex, who have praised my attractions, so I must not pretend that I do not understand the reason for his Horrid and Ungallant Conduct. My dread is that before Aid can reach me, his Beast may overpower his Finer Feelings – and even now I cannot suppose that he is altogether Dead to Propriety, though how long such Restraint will continue I cannot say.
So come quickly, quickly, my own love, for how can I, weak and defenceless as I am, resist him unaided? I am in terror and distraction at 9 p.m. The weather continues fine.
[End of extract – this is what comes of forward and immodest behaviour – G. de R.]
a Travelling on an East Indiaman.
“I blame myself,” says Whampoa, sipping his sherry. “For years one does business with a man, and if his credit is good and his merchandise sound, one clicks the abacus and sets aside the doubts one feels on looking into his eyes.” He was enthroned behind his great desk, impassive as Buddha, with one of his little tarts beside him holding the Amontillado bottle. “I knew he was not safe, but I let it go, even when I saw how he watched your golden lady two evenings since. It disturbed me, but I am a lazy, stupid and selfish fool, so I did nothing. You shall tell me so, Mr Flashman, and I shall bow my unworthy head beneath your deserved censure.”
He nodded towards me while his glass was refilled, and Catchick Moses burst out:
“Not as stupid as I, for G-d’s sake, and I’m a man of business, they say! Yeh! Haven’t I for the past week been watching him liquidate his assets, closing his warehouses, selling his stock to my committee, auctioning his lighters?” He spread his hands. “Who cared? He was a cash-on-the-table man, so did I mind where he came from, or that nobody knew him before ten years back? He was in spice, they said, and silk, and antimony, and G-d-knows-what, with plantations up the coast and something-or-other in the Islands – and now you tell us, Whampoa, that no one has ever seen these estates of his?”
“That is my information in the past few hours,” says Whampoa gravely. “It amounts to this: he has great riches, but no one knows where they come from. He is a Singapore middle-man, but he is not alone in that. His name was good, because he did good business—”
“And now he has done us!” cries Catchick. “This, in Singapore! Under our very noses, in the most respectable community in Asia, he steals a great English lady – what will they say in the world, hey? Where’s our reputation, our good name, I should like to know. It’s gone out yonder, heaven knows where, aboard his accursed brig! Pirates, they’ll call us – thieves and kidnappers! I tell you, Whampoa, this could ruin trade for five years—”
“In G-d’s name, man!” cries Brooke. “It could ruin Mrs Flashman for ever!”
“Oi-hoi!” cries Catchick, clutching his head with his hands, and then he came trotting across to me and dropped his hand on my shoulder, kneading away at me. “Oh, my poor friend, forgive me!” he groans. “My poor friend!”
It was just on dawn, and we had been engaged in such useful conversation for two hours past. At least, they had; I had been sitting in silence, sick with shock and pain, while Catchick Moses apostrophized and tore his whiskers, Whampoa reviled himself in precise, grammatical terms and sank half a gallon of Manzanilla, Balestier, the American consul, who had been summoned, d----d Solomon to Hades and beyond, and two or three other leading citizens shook their heads and exclaimed from time to time. Brooke just listened,