River of Smoke - Amitav Ghosh [194]
A great cheer went up, and one young man was so carried away by the passions of the moment that he jumped on a bench and proposed a toast to ‘Free Trade, Universal Free Trade, the extinction of all monopolies, and especially the most odious one, the Hong monopoly!’
This was received with tumultuous acclaim, and nowhere more so than in the corner of the hall where Dent and his friends were seated. ‘To Free Trade, gentlemen!’ said Dent, raising his glass. ‘It is the cleansing stream that will sweep away all tyrants, great and small!’
The ceremonies now being concluded, the stewards rushed in to clear a space for dancing. The band struck up a waltz and the crowd parted to allow Mr Jardine and Mr Wetmore to walk through the hall, arm-in-arm. On no one was it lost that these two old friends, who had grown grey in each other’s company, might be dancing together for the last time. When they took their first turns on the floor there was scarcely a dry eye in the room.
Even Mr Slade was moved to shed a tear. ‘Oh poor Jardine,’ he cried. ‘He does not yet understand how much he will miss our little Bulgaria.’
Seldom had Bahram been in such a mood for dancing, so he had already bespoken Dent’s hand for the waltz. But what should have been the perfect conclusion to the evening, turned instead into a cause for confusion and embarrassment. Just as Bahram was about to seize Dent by the waist, an altercation broke out in a corner of the hall. Bahram turned around to discover that the Bombay contingent was embroiled in some kind of quarrel. Hurrying over, he saw that some of them were about to come to blows with a half-dozen young Englishmen. Fortunately Dinyar was not among the disputants. Between the two of them they were able to restore order. But seeing that feelings were still running high, Bahram decided it would be best to lead his contingent out of the hall.
Only when they were outside did Bahram stop to ask: What happened? What was going on in there?
Seth, those haramzadas were calling us all kinds of names. They said this was no place for monkeys and we should leave.
They were drunk, na? Why didn’t you just ignore them?
How to ignore them, Seth? We gave all that money for the dinner and then they call us monkeys and niggers?
Fourteen
February 20, 1839, Markwick’s Hotel
My dear Maharanee of Pugglenagore – your servant Robin is proud to announce a Discovery! A most astonishing discovery – or perhaps it is only a conjecture, I cannot tell, and it does not matter, for along with it I also have some news – at last! – of your pictures. But I must start at the beginning …
The first part of this month flew by because of the Chinese New Year – for a fortnight nothing was done: the city was convulsed with celebrations and the lanes rang to the cry of ‘Gong hei fa-tsai!’ Scarcely had the festivities ceased when who should appear but Ah-med! You will remember him as the emissary who took me to Fa-Tee to meet Mr Chan (or Lynchong or Ah Fey or whatever you wish to call him). It had been so long since I last heard from Mr Chan that I had almost given up hope of seeing him again. That is why I was quite inordinately pleased to see Ah-med. I will not conceal from you, Puggly dear, that all my hopes in regard to the task Mr Penrose has entrusted to me are invested in Mr Chan – other than him I have not met a soul who has anything enlightening to offer on the subject of this mysterious golden camellia; no one has seen it, no one has heard of it; no one understands why anyone should think it worth a smidgeon of their attention. Indeed, so fruitless have my inquiries been that I had begun to wonder whether I ought not to consider returning the money Mr Penrose so generously advanced to me (but it really would not suit, dear, for it is already spent – a few weeks ago Mr Wong, the tailor, showed me an exquisite cloud-collar, trimmed with fur, and no sooner had I set eyes on it than I knew it would