Patrick O’Brian 3-Book Adventure Collection: The Road to Samarcand, The Golden Ocean, The Unknown Shore. Patrick O’Brian
was well away, the Professor sat down on the ground by the first machine-gun. It looked very unlike the blue-print.
‘I believe the locking-pin and the tension nut are under this casing,’ he said. ‘Of course, they would not leave such delicate parts exposed. Pass me that spanner.’ He worked at the nuts. ‘Yes, here we are,’ he said, removing the casing. ‘Now we turn to the left here, and again here, and the deed is done.’ He looked up with a smile, wiping his forehead with a greasy hand.
‘Don’t look round, sir,’ murmured Derrick, ‘but there’s something rather odd behind. The Russians are standing by their hut, and they are watching you through their binoculars.’
‘Are they, indeed? Confound their impertinence. I am very much afraid that that fellow who was here is growing suspicious. I could not altogether avoid his technical questions, and I probably answered stupidly. However, I have a petard on which to hoist them if they provoke me.’ He seemed to Derrick extraordinarily calm.
‘They are getting excited,’ said Derrick. ‘One is coming our way now.’
‘I suppose I have done something very unprofessional with this machine,’ said the Professor, peering thoughtfully at a piece of metal.
The Russian came up, affecting to stroll idly. ‘It is getting very hot, comrade,’ he remarked, looking sharply at the dismantled gun.
‘I don’t find it so,’ snapped the Professor. ‘Have you prepared your report?’
The Russian did not reply directly. He said, ‘You seem to be having some difficulty with that interruptor.’ There was a false, cunning note in his voice.
The Professor threw down his spanner and stared menacingly at the Russian, who dropped his eyes and muttered, ‘Don’t be offended, Ivan Petrovitch, I’m not criticising … I will go and write my report at once.’
‘They are not quite sure yet,’ said the Professor, when he was out of earshot. ‘If I knew a few technical terms in Russian – or, indeed, in any language – I could probably keep them off for the few hours that are necessary. But I am very much afraid,’ he paused to tighten a nut, ‘I am very much afraid that they will force me to hoist them before long. Are they still watching?’
‘Yes. All of them.’
‘Humph,’ said the Professor, moving on to the next gun.
‘What do you mean by hoisting them?’ asked Derrick, in a worried murmur. He could not understand how the Professor could remain so cool right under the gaze of their enemies.
‘I mean hoisting them on their own petard. You have read of the engineer being blasted at the pale-faced moon, have you not? No? Then you must agree with me that school is quite certainly imperative.’ He was working steadily on the fourth gun. ‘I mean that I will double-cross the bum galoots. They suppose themselves to be very wise guys: but they will find that they are deceived, and that we are wiser.’
‘How do you mean?’ asked Derrick, hardly able to control his own nervousness.
‘Keep a cool head, my dear boy. I know that this is very trying for you, but endeavour to be calm. I will tell you – it is a scheme worthy of a Greek hero, and it is not wholly un-Greek in its element of treachery. But I will condense it into four or five words. They do not speak Chinese: I do. I hope very much that I shall be able to accomplish my design without bloodshed, but if I cannot, then I must regretfully sacrifice the knaves. Are they still there?’
‘Yes.’
‘When you are speaking to an older man, Derrick, it is better to say “sir.” Even in times like these one should try to keep one’s self-command, and the little civilities are like so many bulwarks, as I believe the nautical term goes. Now just help me fasten this disagreeably oily piece, and I will go and pay a call on Shun Chi. They are still watching?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Then there is no hope for them, the unfortunate knaves. Now the next screw …’ It seemed that he would never finish: Derrick watched him go on and on, patiently adjusting the scattered parts, until he could hardly bear it any longer. But at last the Professor straightened his long and bony frame, wiped his face and said, ‘Now, Derrick, I want you to stand where you can watch the Tu-chun’s tent. If you see anything unpleasant happening to me, you must give me your word to escape at once, without trying to do anything to help me. I want your word, and I will not go otherwise.’ He spoke gently, but Derrick knew that he was in deadly earnest. He gave his word, and the Professor said, ‘There is, in point of fact, no danger at all. All this is only to make me feel a little more confident.’ He smiled, and turned away.
Derrick watched him walk to the left, out of the Russians’ sight, and then turn sharply to the Tu-chun’s tent.
The rebel leader was in a black mood, but he greeted the Professor with as much courtesy as he could manage, which was not a great deal, for he was an ill-conditioned, brutish fellow, who had risen from the gutters of Hu Wan through the various stages of petty thievery, brigandage and banditry to his present position. He was a false, treacherous man, of the kind who can be relied upon to turn against his friends and allies at a moment’s notice if it serves his ambition, or if his fears are aroused.
‘I have some disturbing news for you, Tu-chun,’ said Professor Ayrton. ‘There is treachery in your camp.’
‘What?’ cried Shun Chi, grasping his revolver. ‘Who?’
‘You have had no suspicions?’
‘The sentries this morning?’
‘Worse.’
Shun Chi went pale. He had been a traitor all his life and he felt treachery all around him.
‘Tell me at once,’ he begged. ‘I will give you …’ – he looked wildly round the tent – ‘I will give you a thousand taels of gold.’
‘I want no gold, Shun Chi. The cause I serve needs no gold. When I came here I was told to expect to find four Russians. I found one. He is dead. The others are foreign devils hired by Hsien Lu. They knew that I had detected them, or at least that I suspected them – their papers were stolen or forged – and they were certain that as soon as I inspected the machine-guns and the bombs I should be certain of their treachery, so they hatched a plot with the prisoners – who were almost certainly confederates – to have Dimitri Mihailovitch and me murdered. You had better have them arrested at once, before they bribe the sentries and escape too. But they must not be killed: my chiefs will want to see them. I cannot promise any further support for your army if these men are killed. Now you must excuse me, Tu-chun: if I am to repair the sabotaged machine-guns and the bombs in time for tomorrow’s attack I shall need every minute. Just have them tied and gagged, and let no one near them – they have too many accomplices here already.’
For a moment it seemed as if Shun Chi were going to have an apoplectic fit. The veins stood out on his forehead and he gasped for breath. But by a violent effort he mastered himself enough to scream for his guards and to rush out of the tent.
The Russians were standing by the machine-guns, peering into their works. They started guiltily when they saw the Professor. If the rebel leader had not already been wholly convinced, he would have condemned them in that moment, for they looked like men detected in a crime. ‘Sons of pigs,’ he shouted, ‘you are at it even now. You are dead men.’ He screamed orders to his guards, and in spite of his greed for more tanks and guns his fury overcame him, and in a moment the Russians rolled headless on the ground.
‘This is a foretaste of victory,’ said Shun Chi, with an evil smile. ‘Tomorrow I shall do the same to Hsien Lu and every prisoner we take, if only you can get the guns ready in time.’
‘Rest assured, Tu-chun: I shall have them fully prepared for you by the hour of the Rat,’ said the Professor, ‘and the bombs, too.’
‘Well,’ said Derrick. ‘I never thought it would come off quite like that.’
‘I