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HANGMAN'S
POINT: A NOVEL OF HONG KONG
-by-
Dean
Barrett
BOOK I
Chapter
1
HONG KONG
31 December 1856 Wednesday Morning
ANDREW
ADAMS banged open the front door of the Bee Hive Tavern by employing
the drunk and dis- orderly French sailor as a battering ram, and,
planting a foot firmly on the seat of his duck trousers, sent the
man sailing out into the street. By stretching out his legs
and flapping his arms, the Frenchman just managed to keep his
balance, but the motion made him appear ridiculous. Sailors,
whores, ship chandlers and boarding-house owners spilled out
into the street, hoping to be entertained by yet another Hong Kong
street brawl. Passing Chinese policemen in conical hats and
filthy uniforms laughed and pointed, infuriating the sailor still
further.
As the man reached for his sheath knife, he spun around to see Adams
withdrawing his own knife from his boot. Adams spoke in the
calm, steady manner he used on all drunks who began fights inside
the tavern; a tone of voice perfectly balanced between threat and
empathy. "You're addled with ale, mate, but there's no
need for trouble; go back to your ship and sleep it off."
Adams pointed the tip of his razor-sharp blade to the nearby White
Swan Tavern. "Or try your luck there."
The sailor hesitated. He looked at Adams for several seconds,
sizing him up as an opponent. Something he saw made him move
his hand away from the hilt of his knife. He gave Adams a mock
salute and spat out something in French which Adams didn't
understand. Ignoring the taunts of the disappointed crowd, the man
disappeared down a lane in the direction of Thieves Hamlet.
As the crowd dispersed, Adams replaced his knife and turned back
toward the tavern. He stared for a moment at the large wooden
sign above the door. He read the lines just below the colorful
bee hive swarm- ing with bees.
Within this hive, we're all alive
And pleasant is our honey;
If you are dry, step in and try
We sell for ready money.
The week before, drunken soldiers from the 59th Regiment had used
the sign for target practice and, as Anne had reminded him more than
once, the several bullet holes dotting the tavern's motto would have
to be patched.
Adams pulled his monkey jacket tighter against the morning cold and
walked down the lane to the harbor. He balanced himself upon a large
stone and shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun. Amid
the Western frigates and brigs and sloops-of-war and clipper ships,
the huge Chinese junk was still there. Adams estimated its
length at over two-hundred-and-twenty feet and its beam at nearly
forty-five feet. A Chinese admiral had commanded her at the
head of a fleet of over two hundred imperial war junks. It was
far more majestic than any junk Adams had ever seen and was the
special prize of Rear-Admiral Sir Michael Seymour, K.C.B., highly
decorated Commander of British Naval Forces in the China Seas, who
had just recently returned from having given the defiant city of
Canton a useless and inconsequential shelling. Not having
enough troops to attack by land, Seymour had with- drawn his
squadron and returned to Hong Kong to await reinforcements; but his
"retreat" had been reported to the Dragon Throne in Peking
as a great victory against the "long-nosed barbarians"
occupying Hong Kong Island.
The junk was a five-masted, black-and-red vessel with square stern
and square bow. T he battened sails had been lowered and they clung
to the lower reaches of the masts like spiked insects fluttering
helplessly in the breeze. Colorful flags still draped the
foremast and a pennant with an angry, five-clawed dragon against a
background of imperial yellow clung to the mainmast.
Adams squinted to examine the deck cannon. If his plan
succeeded, before the day was over, he and Captain Weslien would put
those cannon to good use.
Adams glanced at his cheap mosaic pocket watch. It was just
before noon. He looked across the harbor at Kowloon, then
glanced to the west, where, several hours from now, Weslien would be
sailing the mail steamer into the harbor. Weslien was a friend
and a courageous man but, in his stubborn way, even more foolhardy
than Adams. Chinese were seeking revenge on
"foreign-devils" any way they could get it, and, to Adam's
way of thinking, sailing a mail steamer from Canton's port of
Whampoa to Hong Kong wasn't worth risking one's head.
On the main deck of the nearest clipper, wealthy men in top hats and
frock coats strode about with a proprietary air, and as Adams
observed them, he reflected on the irony of his position. He
was one of the few people living in Hong Kong who actually liked
Hong Kong. Yet he disliked most of the people in it. The
snobbish merchants and traders and their equally
snobbish wives treated the place like a kind of whore, a variety of
low-class prostitute, which was to be exploited but never respected;
a convenient place in which to revel in a life cushioned by punkah-pullers
and servants and stables and carriages; while grabbing as much money
in any way they could. After which they would scamper off to
England or to some other foreign shore with their ill-gotten profits
to live the lives of cultured ladies and gentlemen. Despite
his lack of financial success, Adams was staying; there was an
excitement in Hong Kong, a bustling atmosphere and a feeling in the
air that almost anything was possible, a mood he had found in no
other place in Asia. Since the first day he'd arrived, he'd
felt as if an unspoken promise of success had been made to anyone
willing to remain in good times and bad. Thus far, the
fulfillment of the promise had been well out of his reach, but as
long as he could live in Hong Kong on his own terms, this often
endangered and always peevish, petulant, gossipy little island
community was exactly where he wanted to be.
But that didn't mean an obnoxious Yank couldn't have some fun at the
expense of a pompous limey admiral and haughty British
merchants. And, tonight, on board the most magnificent Chinese
war junk Adams had ever seen, he and Weslien would provide the town
of Victoria with a bit of excitement. Right in the middle of
Hong Kong Harbor and at the center of the most
powerful naval fleet ever assembled in the East.
HANGMAN'S
POINT Author Interview
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