If such a daring plan succeeds, he thinks, the lack of guards shall be forgotten the lack of guards shall be forgotten.

'Many sailors,' de Zoet is saying, 'aboard the Phoebus Phoebus are not Englishmen.' are not Englishmen.'

This victory, Shiroyama foresees, could win me a seat on the Council of Elders could win me a seat on the Council of Elders.

'The captives,' de Zoet is anxious, 'must be allowed to surrender with honour.'

'Surrender with honour.' Shiroyama frowns. 'We are in Japan, Acting-Chief.'

XXXVII.

From Captain Penhaligon's Cabin

Around six o'clock in the evening of the 19th October, 1800 Dark clouds clot and the dusk is silted with insects and bats. The Captain recognises the European sitting in the prow of the guard-boat and lowers his telescope. 'Envoy Fischer is being rowed back to us, Mr Talbot.'

The Third Lieutenant searches for the right reply. 'Good news, sir.'

The evening breeze, rain-scented, rustles the pages of the Pay Book.

' "Good news" is what I hope Envoy Fischer brings us.'

A mile over calm water, Nagasaki lights its candles and closes its shutters.

Midshipman Malouf knocks and puts his head around the door. 'Lieutenant Hovell's compliments, sir, and Mr Fischer is being ferried back to us.'

'Yes, I know. Tell Lieutenant Hovell to bring Mr Fischer to my cabin once he is safe on board. Mr Talbot, send word to Major Cutlip: I want a clutch of marines ready with guns primed, just in case . . .'

'Aye, sir.' Talbot and Malouf leave on their agile young feet.

The Captain is left alone with his gout, his telescope and the fading light.

Torches are lit at the guard-posts on shore, a quarter-mile astern.

After a minute or two, Surgeon Nash knocks his particular knock.

'Come, Surgeon,' says the Captain, 'and not before time.'

Nash enters, wheezing tonight like broken bellows. 'Podagra is an ingravescent cross for sufferers to bear, Captain.'

' "Ingravescent"? Deal in plain English in this cabin, Mr Nash.'

Nash sits by the window-bench and helps Penhaligon's leg up. 'Gout grows worse before it grows better, sir.' His fingers are gentle but their touch still scalds.

'You think I don't know know that? Double the dosage of the remedy.' that? Double the dosage of the remedy.'

'The wisdom of doubling the quantity of opiates so soon after--'

'Until our treaty is won, double my damned Dover's!'

Surgeon Nash unwraps the bandages and puffs out his cheeks at what he finds. 'Yes, Captain, but I shall add henna and aloes before all traffic in your alimentary canal comes to a dead stop . . .'

Fischer greets the Captain in English, shakes his hand, and nods around the table at Hovell, Wren, Talbot and Cutlip. Penhaligon clears his throat. 'Well, be seated, Envoy. We all know why we are here.'

'Sir, one small preliminary matter,' says Hovell. 'Mr Snitker has just accosted us, as drunk as Old Noah, demanding to attend our meeting with Envoy Fischer, and vowing he'd never allow an interloper to "siphon off what's rightfully mine".'

'What's rightfully his,' interjects Wren, 'is a sharp clog up his arse.'

'I told him he'd be called when needed, Captain, and trust I did right.'

'You did. It is Envoy Fischer -' he makes a gracious gesture '- who is the man of this hour. Please ask our friend to distil his day's work.'

Penhaligon studies the tone of Fischer's replies as Hovell takes notes. The Dutch sentences sound polished. 'Well, as per his orders, sir, Envoy Fischer spent the day in consultation with the Dutchmen on Dejima and Japanese officials at the Magistracy. He reminds us that Rome was not built in a day, but believes the foundation stones of British Dejima are in place.'

'We are pleased to learn it - "British Dejima" is a fine phrase.'

Jones the servant brings in a brass lamp. Chigwin provides beer and tankards.

'Begin with the Dutch: do they, in principle, agree to co-operate?'

Hovell translates Fischer's reply as, ' "Dejima is as good as ours." '

This 'as good as', thinks the Captain, is the first sour note is the first sour note.

'Do they recognise the legitimacy of the Kew Memorandum?'

The long reply makes Penhaligon wonder about Fischer's 'foundation stones'. Hovell makes further notes as Fischer speaks. 'Envoy Fischer reports that news of the VOC's collapse caused dismay amongst Dutch and Japanese alike, and without the edition of the Courant Courant, the Dutch would not have believed it. He used this dismay to present the Phoebus Phoebus as the Dutchmen's only hope of a profitable homecoming, but one dissenter, a clerk by the name of -' Hovell checks the name with Fischer, who repeats it with distaste '- Jacob de Zoet, dubbed the British Race to be "the cockroaches of Europe" and swore to cut down any "vermin collaborators". Objecting to this language, Mr Fischer challenged him to a duel. De Zoet retreated to his rat-hole.' as the Dutchmen's only hope of a profitable homecoming, but one dissenter, a clerk by the name of -' Hovell checks the name with Fischer, who repeats it with distaste '- Jacob de Zoet, dubbed the British Race to be "the cockroaches of Europe" and swore to cut down any "vermin collaborators". Objecting to this language, Mr Fischer challenged him to a duel. De Zoet retreated to his rat-hole.'

Fischer wipes his mouth and adds a coda for Hovell to translate.

'De Zoet was a lackey of both Chief Vorstenbosch and ex-Chief van Cleef, whose murder he accuses you of, sir. Envoy Fischer recommends his removal, in chains.'

Some settling of old scores, Penhaligon nods, is to be expected is to be expected. 'Very well.'

The Prussian next produces a sealed envelope and a chequered box. These he slides across the table with a lengthy explanation. 'Mr Fischer says, sir,' explains Hovell, 'that thoroughness demanded he tell you of de Zoet's opposition, but assures us that the clerk is "neutered". Whilst on Dejima, Mr Fischer was visited by Dr Marinus, the physician. Marinus had been deputised by all ashore, saving the blackguard de Zoet, to tell Mr Fischer that the merits of the British olive-branch were plain as day, and to entrust him with this sealed letter addressed to you. It contains "the unified will of Dejima's Europeans." '

'Please congratulate our envoy, Lieutenant. We are pleased.'

Peter Fischer's slight smile replies, Of course you are pleased . . . Of course you are pleased . . .

'Now ask Mr Fischer about his tete-a-tete with the Magistrate?'

Fischer and Hovell exchange several sentences.

'The Dutch tongue,' Cutlip tells Wren, 'is the noise of mating pigs.'

Insects encrust the cabin's window, drawn by the bright lamp.

Hovell is ready. 'Before his return to the Phoebus Phoebus this evening, Envoy Fischer enjoyed a long audience with Magistrate Shiroyama's highest adviser, one Chamberlain Tomine.' this evening, Envoy Fischer enjoyed a long audience with Magistrate Shiroyama's highest adviser, one Chamberlain Tomine.'

'What about his warm relationship with Magistrate Shiroyama?' asks Wren.

Hovell explains, 'Envoy Fischer says that Shiroyama is, in fact, a "lofty castrato" - a figurehead - and that real power lies with this chamberlain.'

I prefer a fibbing underling, Penhaligon worries, to fib consistently to fib consistently.

'According to Envoy Fischer,' Hovell continues, 'this powerful chamberlain viewed our proposal for a commercial treaty with great sympathy. Edo is frustrated by Batavia's unreliability as a trading partner. Chamberlain Tomine was astonished at the dismemberment of the Dutch Empire, and Envoy Fischer sowed many seeds of doubt in his mind.'

Penhaligon touches the chequered box. 'This is the chamberlain's message?'

Fischer understands and speaks to Hovell. He says, sir, that this historic letter was dictated by Chamberlain Tomine, approved by Magistrate Shiroyama, and translated into Dutch by an Interpreter of the First Rank. He was not shown its contents, but has every confidence that it shall please.'

Penhaligon examines the box. 'Fine workmanship, but how to get inside?'

'There'll be a hidden spring, sir,' says Wren. 'May I?' The Second Lieutenant wastes a minute failing. 'How damnably Asiatic.'

'It would be no match,' Cutlip snorts snuff, 'for a good English hammer.'

Wren passes it to Hovell. 'Picking Oriental locks is your forte, Lieutenant.'

Hovell slides one end panel and a lid slips off. Inside is a sheet of parchment, folded twice and sealed at the front.

A man's life is made, Penhaligon thinks, by such letters . . . or unmade by such letters . . . or unmade.

The Captain slices the seal with his paper-knife and unfolds the page.

The script inside is Dutch. 'I impose once again, Lieutenant Hovell.'

'Not at all, sir.' Hovell uses a taper to light a second lamp.

' "To the Captain of the English vessel, Phoebus Phoebus. Magistrate Shiroyama informs the 'Englanders' that changes . . ." ' Hovell pauses, frowning '. . . pardon, sir, the grammar is home-spun ". . . changes to the rules governing trade with foreigners lie not within the remit of the Magistrate of Nagasaki. These matters are the preserve of the Shogun's Council of Elders in Edo. The English Captain is therefore -" the word is "commanded" "- commanded to remain at anchor for sixty days whilst the possibility of a treaty with Great Britain is discussed by the proper authorities in Edo." '

Hostile silence settles over the table.

'The jaundiced pygmies,' declares Wren, 'take us for a gaggle of heyducks!'

Fischer, sensing something badly amiss, asks to see the chamberlain's letter.

Hovell's palm tells him, Wait Wait. 'There is worse, sir. "The English Captain is commanded to send ashore all gunpowder -" '

'They'll have our lives lives, by all that's Holy,' swears Cutlip, 'before our powder!'

I was a fool, thinks Penhaligon, to forget that diplomacy is never simple to forget that diplomacy is never simple.

Hovell continues: ' "- all gunpowder and and admit inspectors on to his ship to ensure compliancy. The English must not attempt a landing." That was underlined, sir. "Doing so without the Magistrate's written permission shall be an act of war. Finally, the English Captain is warned that the Shogun's laws punish smugglers with crucifixion." The letter is signed by Magistrate Shiroyama.' admit inspectors on to his ship to ensure compliancy. The English must not attempt a landing." That was underlined, sir. "Doing so without the Magistrate's written permission shall be an act of war. Finally, the English Captain is warned that the Shogun's laws punish smugglers with crucifixion." The letter is signed by Magistrate Shiroyama.'

Penhaligon rubs his eyes. His gout hurts. 'Show our "Envoy" the fruits of his cleverness.'

Peter Fischer reads the letter with rising incredulity, and stammers high-pitched protests at Hovell. 'Fischer denies, Captain, that the chamberlain mentioned these sixty days, or the gunpowder.'

'One doesn't doubt,' says the Captain, 'Fischer was told what was expedient.' Penhaligon slits open the envelope containing the letter from the doctor. He is expecting Dutch, but finds neatly written English. 'There is a capable linguist ashore. "To Captain Penhaligon of the Royal Navy: Sir, I, Jacob de Zoet, elected on this day President of the Provisional Dejima Republic -" '

'A "Republic"!' Wren snorts. 'That walled-in hamlet of warehouses?'

' "- beg to inform you that we, the undersigned, reject the Kew Memorandum; oppose your goal of illegitimately seizing Dutch trading interests in Nagasaki; reject your bait of gain under the English East India Company; demand the return of Chief Resident van Cleef; and inform Mr Peter Fischer of Brunswick that he is henceforth exiled from our territory." '

The four officers look at ex-Envoy Fischer, who swallows and asks for a translation.

'To continue: "Howsoever Messrs Snitker, Fischer et al et al assure you otherwise, yesterday's kidnappings are seen by Japan's authorities as a breach of sovereignty. Swift retaliation is to be expected, which I am powerless to prevent. Consider not only your ship's company, innocents in these machinations of states, but also their wives, parents and children. One appreciates that a captain of the Royal Navy has orders to follow, but assure you otherwise, yesterday's kidnappings are seen by Japan's authorities as a breach of sovereignty. Swift retaliation is to be expected, which I am powerless to prevent. Consider not only your ship's company, innocents in these machinations of states, but also their wives, parents and children. One appreciates that a captain of the Royal Navy has orders to follow, but a l'impossible nul n'est tenu a l'impossible nul n'est tenu. Your respectful servant, Jacob de Zoet." It is signed by all the Dutchmen.'

Laughter, rakish and rookish, fills the wardroom below.

'Pray share the bones of the matter with Fischer, Mr Hovell.'

As Hovell translates the letter into Dutch, Major Cutlip lights his pipe. 'Why did this Marinus feed our Prussian all that donkey manure?'

'To cast him,' sighs Penhaligon, 'in the role of a prize jackass.'

'What was that frog-croak,' asks Wren, 'at the end of the letter, sir?'

Talbot clears his throat. ' "No one is bound to do the impossible." '

'How I hate a man,' says Wren, 'who farts in French and expects applause.'

'And what is is this -' Cutlip snorts '- "Republic" buffoonery about?' this -' Cutlip snorts '- "Republic" buffoonery about?'

'Morale. Fellow-citizens make braver fighters than jumpy underlings. This de Zoet is not the fool that Fischer would have us believe.'

The Prussian is subjecting Hovell to a volley of outraged denials. 'He claims, Captain, that de Zoet and Marinus cooked up the mischief between them - that the signatures must be forged. He says that Gerritszoon and Baert can't even write.'

'Hence they inked in their thumbprints!' Penhaligon resists an urge to hurl his whale's-tooth paperweight at Fischer's pasty, sweaty, desperate face. 'Show him, Hovell! Show him the thumbprints! Thumb Thumbprints, Fischer! Thumbprints! Thumbprints!'

Timbers creak, men snore, rats chew, lamps hiss. Sitting at the fold-down desk in the lamp-lit wooden womb of his sleeping cabin, Penhaligon scratches an itch between the knuckles of his left hand and listens to the twelve sentries relaying the message 'Three bells, all well,' around the bulwarks. No, it is not, by damn No, it is not, by damn, thinks the Captain. Two blank sheets of paper are waiting to be turned into letters: one to Mr - never never, he thinks, 'President' - Jacob de Zoet of Dejima, and the other to His August Personage, Magistrate Shiroyama of Nagasaki. The uninspired correspondent scratches his scalp, but dandruff and lice, not words, fall on to the blotter.

A wait of sixty days, he tips the detritus into the lamp, may be justifiable . . . may be justifiable . . .

Crossing the China Sea in December, Wetz worried, would be a battering voyage.

. . . but to surrender our gunpowder would see me court-martialled but to surrender our gunpowder would see me court-martialled.

A cockchafer twitches its twin whiskers in the shadow of his inkwell.

He looks at the old man in his shaving mirror and reads an imaginary article buried deep in the next year's The Times of London The Times of London.