There is no reason why he should find out, said Baboo Nob Kissin. I am the only one who knows and you can be sure I will not tell him.

But what if he recognizes me?

Oh you should have no fear of that, said Baboo Nob Kissin with a laugh. Your appearance is so much changed even I did not recognize you in the beginning. As for Mr Burnham, he cannot tell one native from another – unless you give yourself away he will not recognize you.

You are sure?

Yes, quite sure.

Neel breathed a sigh of relief: Achha to aro bolun – tell me more, Baboo Nob Kissin, tell me about my wife, my son …

*

In the latter part of January, as the date of William Jardine’s embarkation for England approached, a consensus emerged amongst Jardine’s friends and followers that his departure could not be allowed to look like a defeat, or worse still, an admission of guilt (for it was no secret that the ‘Iron-Headed Rat’ was regarded as an arch-criminal by the Chinese authorities). As a result, the preparations for his farewell dinner took on a defiant exuberance: long before the date arrived it was evident to all that it would be the most magnificent event ever seen in Fanqui-town.

The dinner was to be held in Company Hall, the largest and grandest venue in the foreign enclave. The hall was in the ‘Consulate’ which was the name by which House No. 1, in the British Factory, was known to foreigners.

The Accha Hong was separated from the British Factory only by the width of Hog Lane, and the approaches to the Consulate were clearly visible from Bahram’s daftar. Although Bahram was not an intimate of Jardine’s, he was by no means immune to the excitement caused by the upcoming dinner: so noisy and visible were the preparations that they even helped him overcome his growing aversion to the view from his window. Looking out again now he spotted, on several occasions, long lines of coolies, winding their way through the Maidan with buckets of vegetables and sacks of grain. One afternoon, hearing a sudden outburst of grunting and squealing, he rushed to the window and saw a herd of pigs racing through: the animals disappeared into the British Hong and were never seen again. The next day he was privy to an even more extraordinary sight: a long line of ducks was waddling through the Maidan, bringing all foot traffic to a halt; before the last bird had stepped off the duck-boat, at Jackass Point, the first had already reached the Consulate.

The very appearance of the British Hong began to change. Attached to Company Hall was an enormous, colonnaded veranda that extended over the entrance, overlooking ‘Respondentia Walk’ – the fenced-in garden in front of the factory. For the purposes of the dinner the veranda was to be turned into a temporary ‘withdrawing-room’: a team of decorators went to work, covering its sides with huge sheets of white canvas. After nightfall, with dozens of lamps glowing inside, the veranda became a gigantic lantern, glowing in the dark.