No one noticed when the man in black on the third floor left. [Read the latest chapter] The crowd was immersed in a frenzied uproar, and a minor riot ensued. The white captain was so excited that he broke the seat plank and rolled down from the balcony. Fortunately, he was not injured physically, but he lay straight on the ground, moaning in pain together with those who were crushed by him.
An hour later, the captain staggered into a tavern in the Pasig River dock area and ordered a large glass of Tuba wine made from coconut water. This is almost the cheapest alcoholic drink in the Philippines. While drinking, he cursed his fate. of ruthlessness.
"Captain Fernando," someone greeted him. The captain found a young Chinese man standing in front of him, wearing a straw hat, a small double-breasted coat common to Chinese people, and a pair of European-style sailor trousers. He seemed to deliberately push his pottery glass in front of the captain. Fernand's eyes widened and his nose twitched, greedily inhaling the aroma of rhubarb liqueur. An ordinary-looking Chinese can actually afford to drink the “Princess of the Tang Dynasty” liqueur, which sells for a lot of money in Manila!
"My master is in the private room next door. He wants to treat Mr. Fernando to a few drinks. Please come with me." The Chinese turned around and stood up. He picked up the wine glass very slowly. The captain's eyelids twitched: in the Chinese man's hand, there was something shining golden exposed under the ordinary pottery cup. The other party had turned around, and Fernand reached out to hold the gold coin and slowly put it into his sleeve.
"Never mind it," the captain said to himself, "nothing is left after all." He dropped the glass and grabbed his hat. Follow the Chinese man's back and walk towards the back of the tavern.
Fernando squinted his eyes. The change in light from the bright outside of the tavern to the dark booth at the back made his eyes uncomfortable. There are no windows in the cubicle. The door closed behind him, and the only light source inside came from a simple coconut oil lamp on the dining table. The flame swayed like a struggle and could only illuminate half of the table. After the captain's eyes gradually adapted to the dim light in the private room, he saw a somewhat hunched man sitting behind the table. His seat seemed to be deliberately avoiding the faint light of the oil lamp.
"Please take a seat, De Fernando." The hunchback, half of his body hidden in the darkness, spoke in a hoarse voice that was deliberately changed. Captain Fernand sat down on the chair opposite. I was slightly surprised: not many people in Manila knew their home country, but this mysterious man spoke French.
The Chinese brought cups and plates to Fernando and filled them with sweet wine. Then he retreated to the door, seemingly uninterested in all conversation.
"De Fernando, there is a question about you that has been bothering me," if anything could make Fernando stop guzzling liqueur. That's the problem with this mysterious figure. "Which God do you believe in? The Vatican or the Huguenot?"
The captain's hand trembled and he didn't notice that his wine spilled on the table. Breaking out of the siege at La Rochelle, he worked for the Muslim pashas in the Barbary Islands and was almost killed by a Portuguese cannon; he was transporting goods for the British in Surat, but was attacked by the Dutch East India Company, and both the cargo and the ship were lost. He never mentioned these experiences to anyone, at least when he was not drunk. In the territory ruled by the Spanish, there would be no other ending for a Huguenot than being burned at the stake.
"God is the only true God," the captain said slowly.
The body in the darkness moved in the chair. The captain now saw that most of the man in front of him was wrapped in a black cloak, with a black half mask on his face. Revealing a perfectly trimmed beard.
"Captain Fernando, I know you are a businessman," the man in black spoke in Spanish, "A businessman always has only one God."
He raised his right hand, and the black sheepskin glove made Fernand tremble: It was as if sitting in front of him was a non-human ghost wrapped in a black body. The black hand let go, and a handful of ducats rolled. When they reached the table, several wine glasses hit the captain's wine glasses before they fell, making a golden crunch. "The gospel of God is indispensable, my friend, especially after a great gamble."
Fernand's eager eyes were focused on these gold coins. Under the flickering and dim light, it seemed as if the entire table was dancing with brilliant golden light.
"Sir, you won't make up for my loss for free, right?" He desperately tried to swallow some saliva to lubricate his dry throat, and even forgot about the wine in front of him.
"What kind of ship is there under the shed of the Manila Shipyard? Why does the Governor value it so much? Mr. de Fernando?"
The private room suddenly became quiet, and only Fernando's heavy breathing could be heard: "That is the secret of His Highness the Governor——"
"Mr. Salamanca hired you to command the boat under construction because you are a brave enough captain and because you are always short of money." The man in black squeezed out a chuckle from between his teeth, "I want to know , what kind of ship is this? It needs a captain like you who dares to risk his life to control it? "
"The Brave Captain" Mr. de Fernando was sweating on his forehead. This was the governor's big secret. There were only four people in Manila who knew the true situation of the ship. Once leaked, the consequences would be disastrous.
"You need money, my friend. I have nothing to do with Mr. Salamanca, the priests in Manila, and I don't like their paranoid fanaticism. I want to know what's going on with the ship and the shipyard." What?" The man in black put a money bag on the table, untied the ribbon, grabbed a handful of gold coins, and let them fall one after another from his fingers. With each crisp jingle, Fernando's pupils shrank, "I am also a businessman, dear Fernando. This is just a business, just a business."
When the man in black left the tavern with his Chinese attendant, the sun was almost setting. They walked out of the tavern and boarded an ox cart with a cloth tent. There are hundreds if not thousands of these bullock carts in and around Manila. The bullock cart finally stopped in front of a warehouse surrounded by a wall. After the two people got off the car, they walked away. There are many simple warehouses with log and thatched roofs in the dock area along the Pasig River. The man in black walked through the back door of the courtyard, took out the key, opened the padlock, and walked into the warehouse with the Chinese. The warehouse door closed behind them, and when it was opened again a quarter of an hour later, the black cloak and mask were gone, the beard stuck to the chin was torn off, and Pulpovan, who had a lot of cotton stuffed on his back to disguise his hunchback, was also taken off. Count Vananova mounted a horse tied in the yard and left through the front gate. After a while, Jimid put on a Chinese gown and replaced the sailor's straw hat with a melon-pipe hat, and hurried to the next contact point in Parian District.
Mr. Genolino Panio has been suffering from severe headaches lately, and it seems that all the turbid energy in his body has poured into his brain. But even if his head exploded, he didn't want to see a doctor. Those doctors only knew how to bleed people, and he didn't dare ask the barber who was drunk all day long to cut open his arm.
The priest who is proficient in medical skills is not keen on bleeding people, or he can try a Chinese doctor. However, Genolino Panio knew that his headaches did not belong to the category of medicine; as the director of the Royal Shipyard, his pain all stemmed from a damn contract: to build 12 new patrol ships for the East Indies Colony. Clippers.
In the final analysis, everything should be blamed on the bastard Japanese guy, the evil Paul Takayama. It is said that the drawings and models of the dhow clipper were made by him, and he also encouraged the governor to use them to replace the outdated galley warships and simple rowing boats, which would give the colonial fleet a completely new look. Of course, as long as you see Gaoshan's boat, you will know that this so-called patrol speedboat is based on his boat.
Genolino Panio was also one of the few extremely enthusiastic proponents at the time. No one could be indifferent to the money that such a large order would bring and the rewards that would be received upon completion. It was only after he took over all the shipbuilding orders and couldn't wait to order the work to start that he realized that he had fallen into a big pit.
Paul Takayama's requirements for this seemingly simple boat are unbelievable: strange rigging, all kinds of pickyness about the size and quality of the ship's materials aside; he actually requires that the bottom of the ship be covered with copper sheets below the waterline. Genolino, who has been working as a shipwright for more than 20 years, has never heard of such a ridiculous thing. Even the big Galen ships that crossed the Pacific had only a layer of tarred canvas on the bottom, covered with a little lead. Just skin. Genolino decided to give the new patrol boats two coats of wood tar to at least ensure they were durable enough. As for the copper, hell, all the copper in Manila was collected for the Japanese genius to build his precious cannon.
This is not the most outrageous thing. Mr. Salamanca didn't know what nonsense he had heard from the Japanese bastard, but he actually asked Genolino Panio in person whether the keel and ribs of the new ship could be made of iron. If it weren't for the noble status of the Governor, he, Genolino Panio, would probably burst out laughing. No one in the world has the ability to bend pig iron into the shape of ship ribs. Moreover, even if it is cast, its brittleness is not suitable for use as keels and ribs. As for wrought iron, let’s not talk about where so much wrought iron comes from in Manila. How to process such large forgings is a big problem.
The shipyard director interpreted this as a sign that the Governor was concerned about whether his product was strong enough. We had to double the material used in key parts of the ship. Fortunately, there is no shortage of good shipbuilding hardwood here. But now the dry wood that has been in stock for many years is about to be used up, but not even one-third of the project has been completed. (To be continued...)
