Residential.”
Bell-Fairfax said nothing. Ludbridge took a last pull on his cigar.
“The reason is all, you see,” he said meditatively. “I’d killed before; I’ve killed since. But that wanton slaughter, all to make a point in what was after all an unjust war . . . no, by God. I’ve never regretted refusing that order.”
“I set fire to houses,” said Bell-Fairfax, in a faraway voice. “I was serving aboard the
Repulsion
. We went ashore in the gig with Mr. Hastleigh, our lieutenant. Jermyn and Shawe and I, all midshipmen. We had kegs of oil and matches and tow and oakum, to start the fires . . . we were to creep in amongst the houses of this little village, and set them alight. They were only fishermen’s huts. We were laughing, because we didn’t know anything. We thought it would be some sort of grand Guy Fawkes prank.
“We followed our orders. The little huts went up in flames. People ran out of them. I saw a woman carrying a baby, with her clothing afire. I tried to help her; Mr. Hastleigh stopped me and boxed my ears. He ordered me back to the boat. We all ran . . . he told me I might have gotten us all killed, and all I could think of was that poor woman beating at her rags, and the baby screaming.
“We rowed like madmen. As we came alongside the
Repulsion
, her guns began firing on the village. We cowered in the boat, with the guns roaring out over our heads. I had to hold my hands over my ears.
“When we’d given them three or four good broadsides, we pulled up anchor and sailed out of the harbor, and sat just offshore. I heard the screaming a long while after. I could see the fires burning for hours.
“In the morning, the smoke lay heavy as fog, in big rifts. We couldn’t see where the village had been, or what had happened to the people there. The captain called us before him and commended us on a job well done.”
Bell-Fairfax fell silent. Ludbridge shook his head.
“Wretched business,” he said. “All of it. We really must make a better world, don’t you think?”
Bell-Fairfax nodded. He looked down at the third portrait once more.
Stepping down from their railway carriage, they beheld Rosherville Gardens. It was a genteel place, green and well kept, and solidly genteel folk strolled amid the trees. They admired the Greek temples and statuary, or practiced at the archery range, or lost themselves in the shrubbery maze, or took refreshments at the various pavilions provided for that purpose. All the lower middle classes were dressed in their very best and on their best behavior.
“I expect you’re thinking we ought to have changed our costumes before coming,” remarked Ludbridge. “Rather conspicuous, aren’t we?”
“No help for it now,” said Bell-Fairfax shortly. He took a last glance at the portrait. “Perhaps they’ll think we’re gardeners.
He
looks as though he must be a waiter. We ought to go somewhere and order tea.”
“If you like,” said Ludbridge. He put his hands in his pockets and strolled along beside Bell-Fairfax, who glowered rather as they made their way through the crowds of children bowling hoops and shopgirls on the arms of tailors. “You might at least attempt to look as though you’re enjoying your outing. I know what it is; you’re making a comparison between all these happy Britons and the memory of those poor wretched Chinese. Do you find yourself despising us all? I did, at first.”
“Rubbish,” Bell-Fairfax muttered.
“Ah! I see you’re particularly affected. But you mustn’t allow it to distract you from the job at hand, you know.”
Bell-Fairfax looked at him sidelong. Ludbridge only smiled.
“One can’t despise whole nations,” said Bell-Fairfax, with some heat. “There are innocents everywhere.”
“Really? Point to one of these smug, comfortable people and tell me which has a pure heart.”
“You don’t know them. Any one of them might be a saint. Shall I feel contempt for them because you use words
Bell-Fairfax said nothing. Ludbridge took a last pull on his cigar.
“The reason is all, you see,” he said meditatively. “I’d killed before; I’ve killed since. But that wanton slaughter, all to make a point in what was after all an unjust war . . . no, by God. I’ve never regretted refusing that order.”
“I set fire to houses,” said Bell-Fairfax, in a faraway voice. “I was serving aboard the
Repulsion
. We went ashore in the gig with Mr. Hastleigh, our lieutenant. Jermyn and Shawe and I, all midshipmen. We had kegs of oil and matches and tow and oakum, to start the fires . . . we were to creep in amongst the houses of this little village, and set them alight. They were only fishermen’s huts. We were laughing, because we didn’t know anything. We thought it would be some sort of grand Guy Fawkes prank.
“We followed our orders. The little huts went up in flames. People ran out of them. I saw a woman carrying a baby, with her clothing afire. I tried to help her; Mr. Hastleigh stopped me and boxed my ears. He ordered me back to the boat. We all ran . . . he told me I might have gotten us all killed, and all I could think of was that poor woman beating at her rags, and the baby screaming.
“We rowed like madmen. As we came alongside the
Repulsion
, her guns began firing on the village. We cowered in the boat, with the guns roaring out over our heads. I had to hold my hands over my ears.
“When we’d given them three or four good broadsides, we pulled up anchor and sailed out of the harbor, and sat just offshore. I heard the screaming a long while after. I could see the fires burning for hours.
“In the morning, the smoke lay heavy as fog, in big rifts. We couldn’t see where the village had been, or what had happened to the people there. The captain called us before him and commended us on a job well done.”
Bell-Fairfax fell silent. Ludbridge shook his head.
“Wretched business,” he said. “All of it. We really must make a better world, don’t you think?”
Bell-Fairfax nodded. He looked down at the third portrait once more.
Stepping down from their railway carriage, they beheld Rosherville Gardens. It was a genteel place, green and well kept, and solidly genteel folk strolled amid the trees. They admired the Greek temples and statuary, or practiced at the archery range, or lost themselves in the shrubbery maze, or took refreshments at the various pavilions provided for that purpose. All the lower middle classes were dressed in their very best and on their best behavior.
“I expect you’re thinking we ought to have changed our costumes before coming,” remarked Ludbridge. “Rather conspicuous, aren’t we?”
“No help for it now,” said Bell-Fairfax shortly. He took a last glance at the portrait. “Perhaps they’ll think we’re gardeners.
He
looks as though he must be a waiter. We ought to go somewhere and order tea.”
“If you like,” said Ludbridge. He put his hands in his pockets and strolled along beside Bell-Fairfax, who glowered rather as they made their way through the crowds of children bowling hoops and shopgirls on the arms of tailors. “You might at least attempt to look as though you’re enjoying your outing. I know what it is; you’re making a comparison between all these happy Britons and the memory of those poor wretched Chinese. Do you find yourself despising us all? I did, at first.”
“Rubbish,” Bell-Fairfax muttered.
“Ah! I see you’re particularly affected. But you mustn’t allow it to distract you from the job at hand, you know.”
Bell-Fairfax looked at him sidelong. Ludbridge only smiled.
“One can’t despise whole nations,” said Bell-Fairfax, with some heat. “There are innocents everywhere.”
“Really? Point to one of these smug, comfortable people and tell me which has a pure heart.”
“You don’t know them. Any one of them might be a saint. Shall I feel contempt for them because you use words
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