Such was the scene that met Charlie’s eyes when he went to the place. The Commissioner was seated in his pavilion and presently Charlie was taken there to meet him. This was the first time Charlie had been face-to-face with him and he was startled to find that the Commissioner was not at all the man his enemies had portrayed him to be: his manner was lively to the point of being vivacious, Charlie said, and he looked young for his age; he was short and rather stout, with a smooth full face, a thin black beard and sharp, black eyes. After exchanging a few pleasantries, the Commissioner asked Charlie who, amongst the Co-Hong merchants, he considered the most honest. When Charlie was unable to produce an immediate answer he burst into peals of laughter!

Is it not a most wonderful tableau, my dearest Puggly? I am of a mind to call it: ‘Commissioner Lin and the River of Opium’.

Charlie was in transports of delight to see the drug being transformed, as he said, into heaps of ashes instead of kindling the fires of lust and frenzy in the brothels of a hundred cities. But his joy is tinged with a terrible sadness for he knows that the Commissioner’s victory will not be long-lived: already several English and American battleships are on their way to China, and there can be little doubt of what the outcome will be if it comes to war. Charlie is so worried that he has written a long letter, addressed to Captain Elliot. It is, in my eyes, a most marvellous piece of writing, and being the inveterate copyist that I am, I could not refrain from noting down a few passages (I will slip them in with this letter when I send it off).

Charlie is often terribly downcast when he thinks of what lies ahead for he thinks that a great cataclysm is coming. Whether that is true or not I do not know – and nor, honestly, do I care. I am persuaded that this is a moment that should be savoured and celebrated. For it is a rare thing in this world, is it not, Puggly dear, when a couple of good men prevail against the forces arrayed against them?

As always, my dear Puggly, I have been overly prolix – it is a besetting sin. But I cannot end this letter without mentioning a very odd thing that happened last week.

One morning a bright red envelope, of the kind that is used in China for invitations, was found on the doorstep of this house. It was addressed to me, in English, and it was (or purported to be) from none other than Mr Chan (or Ah Fey or whatever you will). This is what it said:

‘Dear Mr Chinnery, I have had to leave town on some pressing business and I do not know when I will be back. It is a pity because I had put together some good flowers for you. But you should know the golden camellia was not among them. That is because this plant does NOT exist. It was invented by Mr William Kerr. Like so many things that are said about China it is a HOAX. Mr Kerr made it up so that his sponsors would send him more money, that is all. The pictures were made by a painter called Alantsae. Mr Kerr taught him about botanical paintings. I know because I was their family servant and gardener – it was Alantsae’s mother who sent me to work for Mr Kerr. I wanted to have the pleasure of telling Mr Penrose this myself, but I do not know if that will happen now.