Hammond at length broke the silence with polite thanks for the comfort of their residence, and the attentions which they had received. “The tour of the city, in particular, was a great kindness; may I ask, sir, if it was your doing?”
Yongxing said, “It was the Emperor’s wish. Perhaps, Captain,” he added, “you were favorably impressed?”
It was very little a question, and Laurence said, shortly, “I was, sir; your city is remarkable.” Yongxing smiled, a small dry twist of the lips, and did not say anything more, but then he scarcely needed to; Laurence looked away, all the memory of the coverts in England and the bitter contrast fresh in his mind.
They sat in dumb-show a while longer; Hammond ventured again, “May I inquire as to the Emperor’s health? We are most eager, sir, as you can imagine, to pay the King’s respects to His Imperial Majesty, and to convey the letters which I bear.”
“The Emperor is in Chengde,” Yongxing said dismissively. “He will not return to Peking soon; you will have to be patient.”
Laurence was increasingly angry. Yongxing’s attempt to insinuate the boy into Temeraire’s company was as blatant as any of the previous attempts to separate the two of them, and yet now Hammond was making not the least objection, and still trying to make polite conversation in the face of insulting rudeness. Pointedly, Laurence said, “Your Highness’s companion seems a very likely young man; may I inquire if he is your son?”
Yongxing frowned at the question and said only, “No,” coldly.
Hammond, sensing Laurence’s impatience, hastily intervened before Laurence could say anything more. “We are of course only too happy to attend the Emperor’s convenience; but I hope we may be granted some additional liberty, if the wait is likely to be long; at least as much as has been given the French ambassador. I am sure, sir, you have not forgotten their murderous attack upon us, at the outset of our journey, and I hope you will allow me to say, once again, that the interests of our nations march far more closely together than yours with theirs.”
Unchecked by any reply, Hammond went on; he spoke passionately and at length about the dangers of Napoleon’s domination of Europe, the stifling of the trade which should otherwise bring great wealth to China, and the threat of an insatiable conqueror spreading his empire ever wider—perhaps, he added, ending on their very doorstep, “For Napoleon has already made one attempt, sir, to come at us in India, and he makes no secret that his ambition is to exceed Alexander. If he should ever be successful, you must realize his rapacity will not be satisfied there.”
The idea that Napoleon should subdue Europe, conquer the Russian and the Ottoman Empires both, cross the Himalayas, establish himself in India, and still have energy left to wage war on China, was to Laurence a piece of exaggeration that would hardly convince anyone; and as for trade, he knew that argument carried no weight at all with Yongxing, who had so fervently spoken of China’s self-sufficiency. Nevertheless the prince did not interrupt Hammond at all from beginning to end, listened to the entire long speech frowning, and then at the end of it, when Hammond concluded with a renewed plea to be granted the same freedoms as De Guignes, Yongxing received it in silence, sat a long time, and then said only, “You have as much liberty as he does; anything more would be unsuitable.”
“Sir,” Hammond said, “perhaps you are unaware that we have not been permitted to leave the island, nor to communicate with any official even by letter.”
“Neither is he permitted,” Yongxing said. “It is not proper for foreigners to wander through Peking, disrupting the affairs of the magistrates and the ministers: they have much to occupy them.”
Hammond was left baffled by this reply, confusion writ plain on his face, and Laurence, for his part, had sat through enough; plainly Yongxing meant nothing but to waste their time, while the boy flattered and fawned over Temeraire. As the child was not his own son, Yongxing had surely chosen him from his relations especially for great charm of personality and instructed him to be as insinuating as ever he might. Laurence did not truly fear that Temeraire would take a preference to the boy, but he had no intention of sitting here playing the fool for the benefit of Yongxing’s scheming.
“We cannot be leaving the children unattended this way,” he said abruptly. “You will excuse me, sir,” and rose from the table already bowing.
As Laurence had suspected, Yongxing had no desire to sit and make conversation with Hammond except to provide the boy an open field, and he rose also to take his leave of them. They returned all together to the courtyard, where Laurence found, to his private satisfaction, that the boy had climbed down from Temeraire’s arm and was engaged in a game of jacks with Roland and Dyer, all of them munching on ship’s biscuit, and Temeraire had wandered out to the pier, to enjoy the breeze coming off the lake.
Yongxing spoke sharply, and the boy sprang up with a guilty expression; Roland and Dyer looked equally abashed, with glances towards their abandoned books. “We thought it was only polite to be hospitable,” Roland said hurriedly, looking to see how Laurence would take this.
“I hope he has enjoyed the visit,” Laurence said, mildly, to their relief. “Back to your work, now.” They hurried back to their books, and, the boy called to heel, Yongxing swept away with a dissatisfied mien, exchanging a few words with Hammond in Chinese; Laurence gladly watched him go.
“At least we may be grateful that De Guignes is as restricted in his movements as we are,” Hammond said after a moment. “I cannot think Yongxing would bother to lie on the subject, though I cannot understand how—” He stopped in puzzlement and shook his head. “Well, perhaps I may learn a little more tomorrow.”
“I beg your pardon?” Laurence said, and Hammond absently said, “He said he would come again, at the same time; he means to make a regular visit of it.”
“He may mean whatever he likes,” Laurence said, angrily, at finding Hammond had thus meekly accepted further intrusions on his behalf, “but I will not be playing attendance on him; and why you should choose to waste your time cultivating a man you know very well has not the least sympathy for us is beyond me.”
Hammond, answered with some heat, “Of course Yongxing has no natural sympathy for us; why should he or any other man here? Our work is to win them over, and if he is willing to give us the chance to persuade him, it is our duty to try, sir; I am surprised that the effort of remaining civil and drinking a little tea should so try your patience.”
Laurence snapped, “And I am surprised to find you so unconcerned over this attempt at supplanting me, after all your earlier protests.”
“What, with a twelve-year-old boy?” Hammond said, so very incredulous it was nearly offensive. “I, sir, in my turn, am astonished at your taking alarm now; and perhaps if you had not been so quick to dismiss my advice before, you should not have so much need to fear.”
“I do not fear in the least,” Laurence said, “but neither am I disposed to tolerate so blatant an attempt, or to have us submit tamely to a daily invasion whose only purpose is to give offense.”
“I will remind you, Captain, as you did me not so very long ago, that just as you are not under my authority, I am not under yours,” Hammond said. “The conduct of our diplomacy has very clearly been placed in my hands, and thank Heaven: if we were relying upon you, by now I dare say you would be blithely flying back to England, with half our trade in the Pacific sinking to the bottom of the ocean behind you.”
“Very well; you may do as you like, sir,” Laurence said, “but you had best make plain to him that I do not mean to leave this protégé of his alone with Temeraire anymore, and I think you will find him less eager to be persuaded afterwards; and do not imagine,” he added, “that I will tolerate having the boy let in when my back is turned, either.”