"Malcolm, did you really really mean what you said about wanting to marry me?" She felt his arms tighten and the wince of pain.

"Of course, I've told you so many times."

"Do you think, do you think your parents, pardon, your mother, she will approve, yes? Oh I do hope so."

"Yes, oh yes she will, of course she will."

"May I write to Papa, I would like to tell him?"

"Of course, write when you wish, I will write too," he said throatily, then, swamped by her affection, his need overcoming his discretion, he kissed the silk, then again, harder and almost cursed aloud as he sensed her retreat before it happened.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"No need for "Sorry" or any Anglo-Saxon guilt, my love, not between us," she said gently. "I want you too." Then, following her plan, switched her mood, entirely in control, her happiness infectious.

"Now I will be the nurse Nightingale."

She plumped the pillows and began to make the bed neater. "Tonight is a French dinner hosted by Monsieur Seratard, tomorrow night he has arranged a soiree. Andr`e Poncin is giving a piano recital of Beethoven--I prefer him so much to Mozart--also Chopin and a piece by a young man called Brahms." A church bell began, sounding the call to early service, almost immediately to be joined by others, sweeter and more melodious from the Catholic church.

"There," she said, helping him lie back comfortably. "Now I will go for my toilette and return after Mass when you are toiletted."

He held her hand. ""Bathed." You're wonderful. I love y--" Abruptly their eyes went to the door as someone tried the handle.

But the bolt was on.

"I did it when you were asleep." She chuckled like a little girl playing a game. Again the handle moved. "Servants always come in without knocking, they need to be taught lessons!"

"Mass'er!" the servant called out, "tea-ah!"

"Tell him to go away and come back in five minutes."

Struan, caught up in her pleasure, shouted the order in Cantonese, and they heard the man go off grumbling.

She laughed. "You must teach me Chinese-speaking."

"I'll try."

"What's "I love you"?"

"They don't have a word for love, not like us."

A frown went across her face. "How sad!"

She slipped over to the door, unbolted it, blew him a kiss, and vanished into her own suite. Her bolt slid home.

He watched the door, aching. Then he heard the bells change, becoming more insistent, reminding him: Mass!

His heart twisted. Didn't think about that, that she was Catholic. Mother's diehard Church of England, twice on Sundays, Father as well, us too, in procession, along with every other decent family in Hong Kong.

Catholic?

Doesn't matter, I... I don't mind.

I've got to have her, he told himself, his healthy, hungry throbbing ache pushing the pain away. "I must."

That afternoon the four perspiring Japanese porters put down the iron-banded chest watched by three Bakufu officials of no import, Sir William, interpreters, an officer from the army accounting department, the Legation shroff, a Chinese, and Vargas, to check him.

They were in the main Legation reception room, the windows open and Sir William was hard put not to beam. Laboriously one of the officials produced an ornate key and unlocked the chest.

Within were silver Mexican dollars, a few tael bars of gold--about an ounce and a third in weight--and some of silver.

"Ask why the indemnity isn't all in gold as agreed?"

"The Official says they could not obtain the gold in time but these are clean Mex and legal currency, and will you please give him a receipt." "Clean" coins meant those that were unshaved, or unclipped, a common practice, and sloughed off on to the unwary.

"Begin counting."

Happily his shroff tipped the contents onto the carpet. At once he spotted a clipped coin, Vargas another and another. These were put to one side. Every eye stayed on the carpet, on the neatly stacked, growing piles of coins. Five thousand pounds sterling was an immense sum when the salary of a full-time interpreter was four hundred a year and pay your own lodgings, a shroff a hundred (though a good percentage of everything that passed through his hands would somehow stick there), a servant in London twenty pounds a year and all found, a soldier five pennies a day, a sailor six, an Admiral six hundred pounds a year.

The counting was quickly done. Both shroffs checked the weight of each small bar of gold twice, then the weight each of the stacks of chipped coins, then used an abacus to calculate the total against the current rate of exchange.

Vargas said, "It comes to four thousand and eighty-four pounds, six shillings and seven pence farthing, Sir William, in clean coin, five hundred and twenty pounds in gold, ninety-two pounds sixteen in clipped coins for a grand total of four thousand, six hundred and ninety-seven pounds, two shillings, and seven pence farthing."

"Sorry, eight pence, Mass'er." The Chinese bowed and nodded his head, his pigtail long and thick, making the slight, face-saving adjustment as agreed in advance with Vargas, deciding that the amount that his Portuguese counterpart had deducted for their fee, two and a half percent, or one hundred and seventeen pounds, eight shillings and sixpence between them, was less than what he would have maneuvered, but passable for half an hour's work.

Sir William said, "Vargas, put it back in the chest, give them a receipt with a note that the underpayment will be added to the last installment. Johann, thank them, and say we will expect the full amount, in gold, in nineteen days."

Johann obeyed. At once the other interpreter began a long statement. "They now ask for an extension, sir, and--"

"No extension." Sir William sighed, dismissed the others and prepared for another hour, closing his ears until he was astonished to hear Johann say, "They've suddenly come to the point, sir: it's the Yedo meeting, sir. They ask that this be delayed another thirty days to make it fifty days from now... the exact words are: the Shogun will return from Kyoto then and he has informed the Council of Elders to advise the Foreign Ministers that he would grant them an audience on that day."

To give himself time to think, Sir William called out, "Lun!" Lun appeared instantly.

"Tea!"

Within seconds the trays arrived. And cigars, snuff and pipe tobacco. Soon the room was filled with smoke and everyone coughing and all the time Sir William was considering options.

First and foremost I'm probably dealing with low-level officials, so anything agreed will be subject to further negotiation. Next, in any event the fifty days will surely extend into two months, even three, but if we have an audience with the Ultimate Power, of course under British leadership, we will have taken a lasting step forward.

Actually, I don't mind if the delay goes to three, even four months. By then I'll have Lord Russell's approval for war, reinforcements will be en route from India and Hong Kong, the Admiral will have his damned authority, and we'll have the forces to invest, hold and fortify Yedo if we have to.

I could say, let us have the meeting as planned and then the Shogun meeting. That would be best, but I feel they won't go against the mystical Shogun's wishes and somehow they'll wheedle and twist and mesh us again.

Johann said, "The spokesman says, as that's agreed, we will bid you farewell."

"Nothing is agreed. A thirty-day extension is not possible for many reasons. We have already arranged a date for the Council of Elders that will take place as planned and then, ten days later we will be pleased to meet the Shogun."

After an hour of sucked-in breaths, aghast silences, blunt Anglo-Saxonese, Sir William allowed himself to be whittled down and got his compromise position: The meeting with the Council of Elders to take place as planned, and the meeting with the Shogun twenty days after that.