"Thank God for that, Dmitri."
"The first thing she said was, Jami-san okay? I said yes and she gave me a hug for you. Then I gave her your message, that you'd find her as soon as possible."
"Thanks, that's a load off my mind. I was afraid she was a goner. Eventually I found her Inn but it was a heap of ash, our house included.
Never did find anyone... Thank God."
"You remember what I--"' "I remember, but first I've got to talk to her. She's not a piece of furniture, for God's sake."
"Hey, easy old buddy, perish the thought, didn't mean to imply anything..."
Jamie sighed, picking his way through the wreckage of a sak`e still, now not far from the promenade. Dmitri's a good enough fellow, he thought, but Nemi was special and... "Oh my God, look!" He pointed. A group of weary samurai fire fighters were squatting around a bonfire beside the jetty, brewing tea. Quickly he weighed the alternatives. There were none. "Can't help it, come on."
As they reached the promenade Lunkchurch reeled out of the darkness. "Jamie," he said dully, "wot you going to do? You're wiped out like me..." He glanced at Phillip, hardly noticing the other two. They looked like ordinary Asian seamen of a type abundant in the merchant fleet. "It's a bastard..."
"Maybe it won't be so bad, Barnaby, I've a few ideas, I'll find you tomorrow."
Jamie brushed past and walked for the jetty, raised his hat politely to the fire fighters and their officer who absently acknowledged them. The rickety jetty pilings and its wooden walkway went fifty metres into the sea. His heart sank. No waiting cutter, and none approaching from the Struan jetty, to the north. Out in the bay Atlanta Belle was alight, swarming with rowboats arriving and leaving.
Earlier this afternoon Jamie had asked MacStruan if he could borrow the cutter for a quick trip this evening to see the captain of the Belle, Johnny Twomast, an old friend.
Phillip, after leaving Sir William who had confirmed Hiraga's supposed death, had rushed over to see him. Stumbling over his words with excitement, Phillip told him, to his delight, that Hiraga was alive, hidden in a Drunk Town well, how the man had saved his life last night, laying out his scheme to save him. "We just sneak him aboard the Belle and no one's the wiser."
"He's alive? I'd heard about him dying in the fire--he's alive?"' "Yes. All we have to do is sneak him aboard."
"I'll ask Johnny Twomast to hide them but only if you get Willie's approval.
Hiraga is still a murd--"' "Hiraga's dead, Nakama, Hiraga, it's all the same, officially. Willie said it, the Sergeant confirmed his death in the fire.
Nakama's dead and gone forever, so's Hiraga.
Getting him out on a ship is the perfect solution and he's worth saving! We're only helping two samurai students to see the world, our world, for a year or so, one of them called Otami."
"If we get caught, Willie will spit blood, our blood."
"There's no reason we should. Otami is Otami, it's his real name and he's told me about you and the shoya cooking up all sorts of business deals, you'll be the winner when he comes back, we all will. We've got to help him!"
Finally Jamie had agreed and had seen the shoya to arrange the loan that he had also guaranteed. By then it was sunset. At sunset Tyrer had gone to the well to prepare Hiraga and Akimoto and now they waited on the jetty.
"Where's the cutter Jamie?" Tyrer said nervously.
"It'll arrive." Feeling highly exposed, the four men waited at the end of the jetty near the wobbly, seaweed slicked steps, all too aware of the nearby samurai, their captain idly swaggering up and down.
Hiraga whispered, "Taira-sama, that captain, remember? He Enforcer. Remember him, captain at gate?"
"What gate?"
"In Yedo. At your Big House in Yedo.
When first meet."
"Oh my God!" Now it poured back--the tough samurai who had insisted on searching the Legation when they had been surrounded and locked in before the evacuation, Hiraga escaping on a stretcher disguised as a smallpox sufferer.
"What's up now?" Jamie said. Tyrer told him. Over Tyrer's shoulder he could see the officer glance at them. His anxiety increased.
"He's too bloody curious."
"I recognize him now," Tyrer was saying.
"We'd better... Look, there she is!" The cutter was chugging out of the dark, her riding lights on but dim. The Bosun waved, they waved back. Waves against the pilings threw shards of spray at them.
"Get aboard, quick as you can," Jamie said, his excitement increasing. Phillip had convinced him Hiraga was not an assassin but a fighter for freedom and, for himself, he already had seen how useful Hiraga had been. Now he was even more sure how valuable an English-speaking shishi and friend would be in the future, particularly one who had been guided and helped by him--he had prepared a dossier of people to meet in England and Scotland, where to go, what to see that he was going to explain before the ship sailed.
Phillip's a genius, he chortled, glanced back at him and drew in breath sharply. Behind Tyrer he saw the Japanese officer strolling towards their jetty. "My God, the bugger's coming for us!" They gaped at the man, took a quick look at the cutter. No way could she arrive before he did. "We're done for."
Hiraga had already decided the same. He tore at the kimonos covering their swords.
"Akimoto, we kill him."
"Wait! Here!" Urgently Tyrer handed Hiraga a large envelope that contained letters of introduction to his father and uncle, also a solicitor, and to the dean of his university. "I was going to explain them on the cutter," he said hurriedly, "no time now, Jamie, you do it for me." He looked at Hiraga deeply a last time and stuck out his hand. "Thanks, I'll always be your friend, come back safely." He felt the strong grip, saw for an instant a smile, then turned and in a cold sweat went to meet the enemy.
The captain had already covered half the jetty when Tyrer planted himself in the middle of the planks and bowed with great formality. A grunt, the man hesitated, his hand on his long sword, then bowed back. When he tried to pass Tyrer bowed again and said in his best Japanese, deliberately ponderous, "Ah Sir Officer, I want say you how samurai men good fight fire.
Remembering from Yedo, yes? Please excuse me, on behalf my Master, Head Gai-jin in Nippon, accept great thank for help save all houses ours."
"Yes, thank you, now I want to see th--"
"See? Look there, Sir Officer!" Tyrer pointed at the town and all around, his Japanese dissolving more and more into gibberish as each time the man tried to walk around him he moved into his path.
"See what fire h--"
"Out of the way!" the samurai said angrily, his breath heavy with the stench of daikon, horseradish. "Move!"
But Tyrer pretended not to understand and flailed his arms to block him, trying to make it appear unintentional and careful not to touch him, saying how awful the devastation was and how well the samurai had performed--Jamie and the others were behind him so he had no way of judging how much time he had, then the officer snarled, "Baka!" he saw his face twist with rage and readied for the blow but at that second he heard Jamie call out, "Cast off, for Christ's sake!" and he was roughly shoved aside as the man ran for the boat.
Panting, Tyrer picked himself up and, wet with relief, saw the cutter swerving off at full throttle, the other three ducking into the cabin, bosun in the wheelhouse, seaman at the prow, the cabin lights doused the instant the samurai reached the jetty's head, his bellowing shout, calling them back, drowned by the engine. The moment before the lights went out and Hiraga and Akimoto turned their backs, Tyrer thought he saw their faces clearly--if he did the officer must have done.