Guns to the Far East by V. A. Stuart Page A

managed to patch him up—and God knows, when I first saw the state he was in, I had my doubts. So maybe I’ll be equally lucky with this arm of yours. We’ll give it a damned good try, anyway. Hang on, now—this will hurt but I’ll be as quick as I can.”
    His probe bit deep and Phillip winced involuntarily. But it was a small price to pay, he thought—a very small part of the butcher’s bill of which his Chief had spoken with so much feeling. And they had won a victory which might well bring the treacherous Yeh to terms, they … even the double tot of whisky he had swallowed could not dull the pain of the cuts Crawford was making but he gritted his teeth and bore it somehow, the sweat streaming in rivulets from every pore in his tortured body. For God’s sake, he …
    â€œHe’s fainted, Doctor,” the assistant said.
    â€œGood,” Dr Crawford grunted. “Now we can set the broken bone.” He worked swiftly and expertly, head on one side and eyes narrowed as he studied the position of the fractured arm. “Just a wee stretch will do it, I think … this lad’s been wounded before. D’you see his other arm?” Bone grated on bone and both surgeons were sweating now. “That’s enough, Andy … hold it so while I get the splints on … fine. He’ll do. Mind, I’m not saying that either he or Spurrier will be as good as new—that would be too much to hope for. But given time and the devil of a lot of luck and by heaven, they won’t be far off it!”

CHAPTER THREE
    P hillip’s arm healed slowly but, until the splints were removed, no one could forecast the degree of mobility with which he was likely to be left. Dr Crawford’s warning that it would take time and patience had, he came to realise, been no idle one and he fretted increasingly at his continued and enforced inaction.
    Following the successful attack on the Chinese war junks in Fatshan Creek, Commodore Keppel consolidated his position by taking the fort at Chuenpee. With seventeen ships, the Royal Navy now controlled the Canton River from the Macao Fort to the newly captured stronghold—a distance of forty miles—with all intervening forts disarmed or destroyed. Apart from the occasional chase after isolated junks, there was little to be done until such time as operations could be undertaken against Canton itself. Of this, Phillip was repeatedly told by his various visitors, there was no prospect until the arrival of Lord Elgin, the British Plenipotentiary, which was expected early in July.
    â€œYou’re not missing anything,” Jim Goodenough assured him. “Except heat and flies. We had a brush with a pirate the other day—she was a beautiful fast boat, with twenty-six oars, mounting two 32-pounders and gingalls on swivels. But she only put up a token resistance and when young Montagu boarded her, with six men, her entire crew bolted! Still, that was fun while it lasted and I won’t pretend I’m not enjoying being in command of the Hong Kong in your absence.” The Raleigh ’s former First Lieutenant grinned at him happily. “Although Chuenpee was a washout. The Chief was hoping for a good scrap but the Chinese just let us walk in. They’ve learnt their lesson, I suppose, after the drubbing we gave them at Fatshan and in Escape Creek. Perhaps they’ll defend Canton, though— if we ever attack the place.”
    â€œDon’t you think we will?” Phillip asked eagerly.
    Goodenough shrugged. “The Chief’s afraid we won’t for political reasons, unless the other Treaty Powers back us up. You’ll have heard, no doubt, that he and the Master stood trial for the loss of Raleigh— last Friday, on board the Sybille? They were both honourably acquitted, of course, and the Chief put up a capital show … attended in immaculate full dress, wearing every Order and medal he