There is no yell, just an almighty boom of falling body on water.

‘Man overboard!’ Wren shouts. ‘Move, then, you lazy dogs! Fish him out!’

‘Get him out my sight, Major,’ Penhaligon snarls at Cutlip.

As van Cleef is led to the companionway he fires back a statement.

‘He expressed surprise, Captain,’ Hovell translates, ‘that a British captain allows dog-shit on his quarterdeck.’

XXXII The Watchtower on Dejima

A quarter past ten o’clock on the morning of 18th October, 1800

When the Union Jack appears on the frigate’s jack-staff, Jacob de Zoet knows, The war is here. The transactions between the longboat and the greeting party puzzled him, but now the strange behaviour is explained. Chief van Cleef and Peter Fischer have been kidnapped. Below the Watchtower, Dejima is still in sweet ignorance of the turbulent events being played out across the placid water. A gang of merchants enters Arie Grote’s house and cheerful guards are opening up the long-shuttered Customs House at the Sea-Gate. Jacob looks through his telescope one last time. The greeting party is rowing back to Nagasaki as if their lives depend on it. We must steal this march, Jacob realises, on the Magistracy. He clatters down the zigzag wooden steps, dashes down the alley to Long Street, unties the rope of the fire bell and rings it with all his strength.

Around the oval table in the State Room sit Dejima’s remaining eight Europeans: the officers, Jacob de Zoet, Ponke Ouwehand, Dr Marinus and Con Twomey; and the hands, Arie Grote, Piet Baert, Wybo Gerritszoon and young Ivo Oost. Eelattu is seated beneath the engraving of the Brothers de Witt. In the last quarter-hour the men have passed from celebration through disbelief to bafflement and gloom. ‘Until we can secure the release of Chief van Cleef and Deputy Fischer,’ Jacob says, ‘I mean to assume command of Dejima. This self-appointment is most irregular, and I shall record objections in the factory’s Day Journal without resentment. But our hosts will want to deal with one officer, not all eight of us, and my rank is now the highest.’

‘Ibant qui poterant,’ pronounces Marinus, ‘qui non potuere cadebant.’

‘Acting-Chief de Zoet,’ Grote clears his throat, ‘has a pleasin’ ’nough ring.’

‘Thank you, Mr Grote. And the ring of “Acting-Deputy Ouwehand”?’

Glances and nods from around the table confirm the appointment.

‘It’s the oddest promotion of my life,’ says Ouwehand, ‘but I accept.’

‘We must pray that these posts are temporary, but for now, before the Magistrate’s inspectors come pounding up those stairs, I wish to establish one guiding principle: namely, that we resist the occupation of Dejima.’

The Europeans nod, some defiantly, others more conditionally.

‘Is it for to seize the factory,’ Ivo Oost asks, ‘they’ve come here?’

‘We can only speculate, Mr Oost. Perhaps they expected a merchantman full of copper. Perhaps they aim to ransack our warehouses. Perhaps they want a fat ransom for their hostages. We suffer from a shortage of hard facts.’

‘It’s our shortage of arms,’ says Arie Grote, ‘what worries me. To say “resist the occupation o’ Dejima” is well an’ good, but how? My kitchen knives? The doctor’s lancets? What’s our weapons?’

Jacob looks at the cook. ‘Dutch guile.’

Con Twomey raises his hand in objection.

‘I beg your pardon. Dutch and Irish guile – and preparedness. And so, Mr Twomey, please ensure the fire-engines are working properly. Mr Ouwehand, please draw up an hourly roster for the Watchtower during the-’

Urgent footsteps can be heard on the main stairs.

Interpreter Kobayashi enters the State Room and glares at the assembly.

A corpulent inspector stands behind him in the doorway.

‘Magistrate Shiroyama sends inspector,’ says Kobayashi, unsure who to address, ‘on business of serious thing… happen in bay: Magistrate must discuss this thing, no delay. Magistrate sends to higher-ranking foreigner, now.’ The interpreter swallows. ‘So inspector need know, who is higher-ranking foreigner?’

Six Dutchmen and one Irishman look in Jacob’s direction.

Tea is cool lush green in a smooth pale bowl. Interpreters Kobayashi and Yonekizu, Acting-Chief Resident Jacob de Zoet’s escorts to the Magistracy this morning, left him in the vestibule to be watched by a pair of officials. Not realising that the Dutchman can understand, the officials speculate that the foreigner’s eyes are green because his pregnant mother ate too many vegetables. The dignified atmosphere Jacob remembers from last year’s visit to the Magistracy with Vorstenbosch is overturned by the morning’s events: soldiers shout from the barracks wing; blades are being sharpened on fly-wheels; and servants hurry by, whispering about what might happen. Interpreter Yonekizu appears. ‘Magistrate is ready, Mr de Zoet.’

‘As am I, Mr Yonekizu, but has any fresh news arrived?’

The interpreter shakes his head ambiguously, and leads de Zoet into the Hall of Sixty Mats. A council of around thirty advisers sits in a horseshoe shape, two or three rows deep, around Magistrate Shiroyama, who occupies a one-mat-high dais. Jacob is ushered into the centre. Chamberlain Kôda, Inspector Suruga and Iwase Banri – the three sent to accompany van Cleef and Fischer to the Dutch ship – kneel in a row to one side. All three look pale and worried.

A sergeant-at-arms announces, ‘Dejima no Dazûto-sama.’ Jacob bows.

Shiroyama says, in Japanese, ‘Thank you for attending us so quickly.’

Jacob meets the clear eyes of the grim man and bows once more.

‘I am told,’ says the Magistrate, ‘that you now understand some Japanese.’

To acknowledge the remark would advertise his clandestine studies, and may forfeit a tactical advantage. But to pretend not to understand, Jacob thinks, would be deceitful. ‘Somehow I understand a little of the Magistrate’s mother tongue, yes.’

The horseshoe of advisers murmurs in surprise at hearing a foreigner speak.

‘Moreover,’ the Magistrate continues, ‘I am told you are an honest man.’

Jacob receives the compliment with a noncommittal bow.

‘I enjoyed dealings,’ says a voice that chills Jacob’s neck, ‘with the Acting-Chief Resident during last year’s trading season…’

Jacob does not want to look at Enomoto, but his eyes are drawn.

‘… and believe that no better leader could be found on Dejima.’

Gaoler, Jacob swallows as he bows, murderer, liar, madman…

Enomoto tilts his head in apparent amusement.

‘The opinion of the Lord of Kyôga carries much weight,’ says Magistrate Shiroyama. ‘And we make a solemn oath to Acting-Chief de Zoet: your countrymen shall be saved from your enemies…’

This unconditional support surpasses Jacob’s hopes. ‘Thank you, Your-’

‘… or the chamberlain, inspector and interpreter shall die in the attempt.’ Shiroyama looks at the three disgraced men. ‘Men of honour,’ the Magistrate states, ‘do not permit their charges to be stolen. To make amends, they shall be rowed to the intruders’ ship. Iwase will win permission for the three men to board and pay a’ – Shiroyama’s next word must mean ‘ransom’ – ‘to release the two…’ the word must be ‘hostages’. ‘Once aboard, they will cut the English Captain down with concealed knives. This is not the Way of the Bushidô, but these pirates deserve to die like dogs.’

‘But Kôda-sama, Suruga-sama and Iwase-sama shall be killed, and-’

‘Death shall cleanse them of -’ The next word may be ‘cowardice’.

How shall the de facto suicides of these three men, Jacob groans inwardly, resolve anything? He turns to Yonekizu and asks, ‘Please tell His Honour that the English are a vicious race. Inform him that they would kill not only Your Honour’s three servants, but also Chief van Cleef and Deputy Fischer.’