Who Speaks for the Damned (Sebastian St. Cyr #15) - C. S. Harris Page 0,61

he did.”

Sebastian found himself thinking about the worn prayer beads he’d seen in Hayes’s room at the Red Lion. “He became a Buddhist?”

“He never called himself one. But he befriended a man who’d been a monk in Tibet and who taught him many things. I think you could say he eventually found a measure of peace.”

“So why come back here, to England?”

“He said he had his reasons. I didn’t ask what they were.”

Abbasi’s open acknowledgment of their recent meeting was unexpectedly frank. Sebastian said, “When exactly did you see him?”

“Last week sometime. Perhaps two or three days before he died.”

“Here?”

Abbasi nodded. “We ate kofta and rice. Smoked the hubble-bubble. Talked of old times. I showed him that example of the tokens I’m planning to have made, and he said I should put the bath’s name and address on the back rather than have both sides the same. I laughed, said he was right, and gave it to him as a souvenir.”

“Was the boy with him?”

Abbasi looked puzzled. “What boy?”

“Hayes brought a boy of eight or nine with him from China. His name is Ji.”

“No, he came here alone.” Abbasi leaned back against his pile of pillows. “When I knew Nicholas in Canton, he had a little girl. But she would be older now—as much as twelve or thirteen. He made no mention of her, and I assumed she must have died.”

Sebastian thought about the miniature painting of the young woman he’d seen at the Red Lion. “Did you know the little girl’s mother?”

“No. She died before I ever met Nicholas.”

“Who was she?”

“He told me she’d been a bondmaid, sold into slavery when her father fell out of favor with the Emperor and was executed. Her owner was getting ready to give her to some old man as a concubine, and Hayes offered double what the man was going to pay for her. He said once that his love for her was the only thing that got him through that first year after Botany Bay—that and her love for him. And then she died in childbirth.”

“Was there another woman after her?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Although to be honest, I’m not certain the woman he told me about was his child’s mother. I may simply have assumed it.”

Sebastian was silent for a moment, overwhelmed by the relentless tragedy of Nicholas Hayes’s life. He said, “I was under the impression foreigners aren’t welcome in China.”

“They’re not. They’re confined to their own quarter outside Canton and officially forbidden to set foot within the city walls. But exceptions are sometimes made.”

“And exceptions were made for Hayes?”

“To a certain extent. I don’t know how it came about, but he was quite close to one of the Hong merchants there, a fellow by the name of Chen Shouguan.” He paused. “How much do you know about Canton?”

“Not much,” Sebastian admitted.

Abbasi nodded. “The Hong merchants are the only ones permitted by the Emperor to trade with foreigners, and they are required to deal with the Westerners through one of five officially licensed linguists. All the linguists are Chinese, and despite being called ‘linguists,’ they don’t actually speak English, just pidgin English. Most of the merchants don’t really care. It’s the linguists who negotiate terms with the foreigners and keep track of all the duties and fees required of their ships, so the emphasis is on their skills at negotiating and making deals rather than on their language abilities.”

“But Chen was different?”

“Very. He wanted someone who could listen to the foreigners talk amongst themselves and know exactly what they were saying. That and understand how Europeans think.”

“Wise man,” said Sebastian. “Maybe that’s why Hayes left China. Maybe something happened to Chen?”

Abbasi shook his head. “I asked Nicholas how the tough old bastard was doing, and he said Chen had just bought a new concubine. The man must be at least eighty.”

“Charming.”

Abbasi’s teeth flashed in a grin. “It’s a different world.”

“So I’m told,” said Sebastian. “Could Hayes speak Chinese?”

“He could, yes. It’s forbidden by Imperial decree for foreigners to learn the Chinese languages, but . . .” He shrugged. “There are always exceptions. Nicholas learned both Mandarin and Cantonese.”

“Impressive.”

“He was a smart man. Very smart.”

“I’m surprised he wasn’t worried one of the Englishmen he interacted with in Canton might recognize him.”

“But that’s just it: He didn’t interact with them directly. The official linguists were the ones who handled the actual negotiations. Nicholas’s role was more to quietly watch and listen from the sidelines. Plus, he wore a thick, full