So there was I, at a loose end - and not before time. I didn't know when I had been so damnably bored; a cruise of wonders was all very well, but I'd had my bellyful of Solomon and his floating mansion with its immaculate appointments and unvarying luxury and everything so exactly, confoundedly right, and the finest foods and wines coming out of my ears - I was surfeited with perfection, and sick of the sight of old Morrison's ugly mug, and the sound of Elspeth's unwearying imbecile chatter, and having not a damned thing to do but stuff myself and sleep. I'd not had a scrap of vicious amusement for six months - and, for me, that's a lifetime of going hungry. Well, thinks I, if Singapore, the fleshpot of the Orient, can't supply my urgent needs, and give me enough assorted depravity in three weeks to last the long voyage home, there's some-thing amiss; just let me shave and change my shirt, and we'll stand this town on its head.
I took a long slant, to get my bearings, and then plunged in, slavering. There were eight cross-streets in the Mayfair section, where all the fine houses were, and a large upland park below Governor's Hill where Society congregated in the evening - and, by Jove, wasn't it wild work, though? Why, you might raise your hat to as many as a hundred couples in two hours, and when you were fagged out with this, there was the frantic debauch of a gig drive along Beach Road, to look at the ships, or a dance at the assembly rooms, where a married woman might even polka with you, provided your wife and her husband were on hand - unmarried ladies didn't waltz, except with each other, the daring little hussies.
Then there were dinners at Dutranquoy's Hotel, with discussions afterwards about whether the Raffles Club oughtn't to be revived, and how the building of the new Chinese Pauper Hospital was progressing, and the price of sugar, and the latest leaderette in the 'Free Press', and for the wilder spirits, a game of pyramids on the hotel billiard table - I played twice, and felt soiled at my beastly indulgence. Elspeth was indefatigable, of course, in her pursuit of pleasure, and dragged me to every soiree, ball, and junket that she could find, including church twice each Sunday, and the subscription meetings for the new theatre, and several times we even met Colonel Butterworth, the Governor - well, thinks I, this is Singapore, to be sure, but I'm shot if I can stand this pace for long.''
Once, I asked a likely-looking chap - you could tell he was a rake; he was using pomade - where the less respectable entertainments were to be found, supposing there were any, and he coloured a bit and shuffled and said:
'Well, there are the Chinese processions - but not many people would care to be seen looking at them, I dare say. They begin in the - ahem - native quarter, you know.'
'By George,' says I, 'that's bad. Perhaps we could look at 'em for just a moment, though - we needn't stay long.'
He didn't care for it, but I prevailed on him, and we hurried down to the promenade, with him muttering that it wasn't at all the thing, and what Penelope would say if she got to hear of it, he couldn't imagine. He had me in a fever of excitement, and I was palpitating by the time the procession hove in view - twenty Chinks beating gongs and letting off smoke and whistles, and half a dozen urchins dressed in Tartar costumes with umbrellas, all making a hell of a din.
'Is that it?' says I.
'That's it,' says he. 'Come along, do - or someone will see us. It's - it's not done, you know, to be seen at these native displays, my dear Flashman.'
'I'm surprised the authorities allow it,' says I, and he said the 'Free Press' was very hot against it, but the Indian processions were even worse, with chaps swinging on poles and carrying torches, and he'd even heard rumours that there were fakirs walking on hot coals, on the other side of the river.
That was what put me on the right track. I'd seen the waterfront, of course, with its great array of commercial buildings and warehouses, but the native town that lay beyond it, on the west bank, had looked pretty seedy and hardly worth exploring. Being desperate by this time, I ventured across one evening when Elspeth was at some female gathering, and it was like stepping into a brave new world.
Beyond the shanties was China Town - streets brilliantly-lit with lanterns, gaming houses and casinos roaring away on every corner, side-shows and acrobats - Hindoo fire-walkers, too, my pomaded chum had been right - pimps accosting you every other step, with promises of their sister who was, of course, every bit as voluptuous as Queen Victoria (how our sovereign lady became the carnal yardstick for the entire Orient through most of the last century, I've never been able to figure; possibly they imagined all true Britons lusted after her), and on all sides, enough popsy to satisfy an army - Chinese girls with faces like pale dolls at the windows; tall, graceful Kling tarts from the Coromandel, swaying past and smiling down their long noses; saucy Malay wenches giggling and beckoning from doorways, popping out their boobies for inspection; it was Vanity Fair come true - but it wouldn't do, of course. Poxed to a turn, most of 'em; they were all right for the drunken sailors lounging on the verandahs, who didn't care about being fleeced - and possibly knifed - but I'd have to find better quality than that. I didn't doubt that I would, and quickly, now that I knew where to begin, but for the present I was content to stroll and look about, brushing off the pimps and the more forward whores, and presently walking back to the river bridge.
And who should I run slap into but Solomon, coming late from his office. He stopped short at sight of me.
'Good God,' says he, 'you ain't been in bazaar-town, surely? My dear chap, if I'd known you wanted to see the sights, I'd have arranged an escort - it ain't the safest place on earth, you know. Not quite your style, either, I'd have thought.'
Well, he knew better than that, but if he wanted to play innocent, I didn't mind. I said it had been most interesting, like all native towns, and here I was, safe and sound, wasn't I?
'Sure enough,' says he, laughing and taking my arm. 'I was forgetting - you've seen quite a bit of local colour in your time. But Singapore's - well, quite a surprising place, even for an old hand. You've heard about our Black- faced gangs, I suppose? Chinese, you know - nothing to do with the tongs or hues, who are the secret societies who rule down yonder - but murderous villains, just the same. They've even been coming east of the river lately, I'm told - burglary, kidnapping, that sort of thing, with their faces blacked in soot. Well, an unarmed white civilian on his own - he's just their meat. If you want to go again'— he gave me a quick look and away —'let me know; there are some really fine eating-houses on the north edge of the native town - the rich Chinese go there, and it's much more genteel. The Temple of Heaven's about the best - no sharking or rooking, or anything of that kind, and first- class service. Good cabarets, native dancing … that order of thing, you know.'
Now why, I wondered, was Solomon offering to pimp for me - for that's what it struck me he was doing. To keep me sinfully amused while he paid court to Elspeth, perhaps - or just in the way of kindness, to steer me to the best brothels in town? I was pondering this when he went on:
'Speaking of rich Chinese - you and Elspeth haven't met any yet, I suppose? Now they are the most interesting folk in this settlement, altogether - people like Whampoa and Tan Tock Seng. I must arrange that - I'm afraid I've been neglecting you all shockingly, but when one's been away for three years - well, there's a great deal to do, as you can guess.' He grinned whimsically. 'Confess it - you've found our Singapore gaiety just a trifle tedious. Old Butterworth prosing - and Logan and Dyce ain't quite Hyde Park style, are they? Ne'er mind - I'll see to it that you visit one of old Whampoa's parties - that won't bore, I promise you!'
And it didn't. Solomon was as good as his word, and two nights later Elspeth and I and old Morrison were driven out to Whampoa's estate in a four-wheel palki; it was a superb place, more like a palace than a house, with the garden brilliant with lanterns, and the man himself bowing us in ceremonially at the door. He was a huge, fat Chinese, with a shaven head and a pigtail down to his heels, clad in a black silk robe embroidered with shimmering green and scarlet flowers - straight from Aladdin, except that he had a schooner of sherry in one paw; it never left him, and it was never empty either.
'Welcome to my miserable and lowly dwelling,' says he, doubling over as far as his belly would let him. 'That is what the Chinese always say, is it not? In fact, I think my home is perfectly splendid, and quite the best in Singapore - but I can truthfully say it has never entertained a more beautiful visitor.' This was to Elspeth, who was gaping round at the magnificence of lacquered panelling, gold-leafed slender columns, jade ornaments, and silk hangings, with which Whampoa's establishment appeared to be stuffed. 'You shall sit beside me at dinner, lovely golden-haired lady, and while you exclaim at the luxury of my house, I shall flatter your exquisite beauty. So we shall both be assured of a blissful evening, listening to what delights us most.'
Which he did, keeping her entranced beside him, sipping continually at his sherry, while we ate a Chinese banquet in a dining-room that made Versailles look like a garret. The food was atrocious, as Chinese grub always is - some of the soups, and the creamed walnuts, weren't bad, though - but the servants were the most delightful
