We hovered near his residence unsure what to do. We had no other friendly name to hand and no recommendation to secure us lodgings. Mr Thom’s Chinese housekeeper, apparently left alone in the Consulate, did not know when her master might return and had the surly manner of one haughty from being left in charge. Then Wang brought us news of another European who lived in the town’s Catholic Mission and we decided to call upon him for advice. It was not far away. When we arrived at the address we found a rather grand house with a European-style front gate, clustered around which there was a crowd, highly charged with anticipation. We pushed our way through, struck the huge, brass knocker and were welcomed inside by a servant. He showed us into a large, pleasant drawing room. After a minute or two a figure appeared in the doorway. Father Allan was clearly an eccentric. A small man, he had adopted the Chinese way, or so it seemed at first, though quickly I realised that his outfit was, in fact, highly comical.
